a lock of broken, silver hair,
a curse spell in a temptress' stare,
I go within to be nowhere
The rock within a looking glass,
the kind of love to kick your ass
the kind of truth to set you free
the kind of hate to keep you captive...
such thoughts and words of frantic noise,
if it's not God, then it's boys,
if it's not God, then it's boys,
if it's not real, is it not
the truth you remembered,
you thought you forgot?
The ego, dismembered,
you thought you forgot?
The ego, dismembered,
is still a lot to carry,
when it's all that you've got.
Thank you my friends,
my stardust tribe,
if love was a statue
I would inscribe such truth unto you-
"You're handsome, you're true,
as strong as Grandmother,
as sturdy as blue"
Your hands are the tools by which pleasure is carved,
your kiss, the food and the drink of the starved,
the sight of your eyes,
an eternal ravine,
with breadth and deep breath
in a sigh, so serene,
as I gaze through windows,
you are the seen,
the promise of yellow,
the power of green,
the power of green,
I'm pregnant with Purple,
you know what I mean....
Each day I choose, and find you, the One,
I wake to partake in the work and the fun,
we've laughed out a cosmos, and only begun
to sit in reflection, sisters so long,
the drum brings to voice
Good Mother's song,
the heron and leopard
have known all along,
This traveler has will,
blessed with animal skill,
she learns not to kill,
but to build,
to disperse and to wield,
to splatter thought matter
through poetry fields,
climb the great ladder
stand with the bull,
howl at your brother, the moon,
white and full,
give grace to Other
with Good Mother's song,
The Healer's chant, words of true men,
to sing and be heard, then forgotten again,
but still to have healed,
though most unbeknownst,
few have presence in moments of instance,
observing as if from such a great distance,
the word goes unheard-
and suddenly isn't.
And the story of Earth becomes such a tale,
as tall as a mountain, as deep as a whale,
thousands of fathoms of feelings of real,
sheaths upon seeds of truth,
so we peel, and we peel to the center,
daring enter,
to find there, plenty,
free of calamitous madness of money,
here in the clear,
there are both milk and honey,
(and cinnamon too)...
This seamless life dream,
gives a good taste of You~
(July, 2012)
daring enter,
to find there, plenty,
free of calamitous madness of money,
here in the clear,
there are both milk and honey,
(and cinnamon too)...
This seamless life dream,
gives a good taste of You~
(July, 2012)
