Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Nov 7, 2016

Poem: Grounded

If anyone knew how many times I've been knocked down
They'd be amazed to see me not splattered on the ground 

My heart has been hamburger served for lunch. 
But my spirit stands strong and it keeps walking on. 

All I know of my destiny is one day the earth will swallow me.  I'm only here if I breathe and it's not because I believe!

My bones have all broke from the weight of the sea.
The waves rain down, on top of me they pound. 

Your judgement is lost when found, sticks to the ground. 
Find me in the trees because this is where I am free to be. 

Jan 29, 2015

I die for a sunny place




show me your face
i crave
flowers and gardens
open your lips
i crave
the taste of honey
come out from
behind the clouds
i desire a sunny face
your voice echoed
saying "leave me alone"
i wish to hear your voice
again saying "leave me alone"
i swear this city without you
is a prison
i am dying to get out
to roam in deserts and mountains
i am tired of
flimsy friends and
submissive companions
i die to walk with the brave
am blue hearing
nagging voices and meek cries
i desire loud music
drunken parties and
wild dance
one hand holding
a cup of wine
one hand caressing your hair
then dancing in orbital circle
that is what i yearn for
i can sing better than any nightingale
but because of
this city's freaks
i seal my lips
while my heart weeps
yesterday the wisest man
holding a lit lantern
in daylight
was searching around town saying
i am tired of
all these beasts and brutes
i seek
a true human
we have all looked
for one but
no one could be found
they said
yes he replied
but my search is
for the one
who cannot be found


~ Rumi




Dec 27, 2010

spirit lust

As the dancer whirls, she chants in a strange, slow voice, quickening as she goes: Lo! I gather up every spirit that is pure, and weave him into my vesture of flame. I lick up the lives of men, and their souls sparkle from mine eyes. I am the mighty sorceress, the lust of the spirit. And by my dancing I gather for my mother Nuit the heads of all them that are baptized in the waters of life. I am the lust of the spirit that eateth up the soul of man. I have prepared a feast for the adepts, and they that partake thereof shall see God.

Dec 15, 2010

for my grandmother

My mom's mother, Christine Mercer, has lived the past 16 years with Alzheimer's disease (life expectancy following diagnosis is approx 7 years, less than 3% live more than 14) and is in the final advanced stage and will hopefully slip away in her sleep very soon. Technically she most likely will die of starvation/dehydration as she is unbelievably healthy otherwise but has now forgotten how to swallow and feeding intravenously at this point is practically inhumane (many in this stage often die of infected bed sores etc.. to no fault of any caregiver, anyone who is willing to offer care is purely a saint)


WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.


Taken from the book ~ When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
Edited by Sandra Martz Papier Mache Press--Watsonville, California 1987

Feb 22, 2010

ryleigh ia! ia!

my playlist on pandora.com ... iz pretty :)




be sure ya hit the visualizer k

Feb 5, 2010

the sleeping lion

I am turning
Turn around face me
As we shuffle
Cards like stars
Like pinholes to heaven
Peeking through
This veiled bankrupt world
Like angels light in dungeons
Hopeful and hungry
As burning torches
A rainbow from a lizard head
Arches over chimney rock
The quiet thunders
In some old canyon
Virtue is on the move
Life and time changing shape
I think to call you out
But I wait
For desert rain is good
Loneliness is strength
Stand with my face to the sky
There is no why
Just life
The passing of moments
I am parched but fine
Cruel is kind
Curse is blessed
I don’t know about the rest
However it is best
Awake the sleeping lion!

-Freedom

Dialogue be damned

Whenever I reflect upon my short comings, paranoid thinking due to incidents of abuse in my formative years that shattered my trust, and the...