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visionary arts and minds on Google+

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The Earth screams
People die before their time
or never get much life
Species die, their music silenced
Crazy theories of wealth
belie obligation or simply seeing
the laws of consequence
Scream Earth!
Pierce the cosmos with your
terrible cry
Acid rain burning through gold
falls



night blooms


Come, say I
Enjoy the desert night blooms --
rare, exquisite, alive.
Quiet, the primeval cold,
parched, freeze-dried.
No purposeful future
divined.
The stories I spin ...
Old, alien
unmarked steps upon the Earth.
no meaning
no warmth
I walk primeval, exquisite landscape
dry, old, eternal
to enjoy the blooming.



Sacred Geology


Rich earth
decomposing life
imbuing myriad layers
of sacred spirit
Memories upon memories
scarred into the land
making it holy
a bounty of beauty
irrigated by tears
and less voluntary bodily fluids
living loam
revitalizing
luscious fruits
giving back what was taken
Partaking of the feast
we are blessed
renewed in holy essence
in the fullness of time
the cycle reclaims
all that we are
that we may become
yet more richly
layered



Sun greets Earth
a hearty slap
hot and sassy



Mothers' Night


cascading shards
uneasy
echoes falling
"It's our calling."
Rape of Earth,
hot spurts of words
savage knives
Abiding Mothers,
sacred and mundane
twist into harridan
cold stars
wail, hurtling waves
Sad, old, crust of ages
sliced, screwed, carved up for profit
"It's not the color of the skin,
the culture of the smile"
the scent of danger,
the inborn stranger --
all excuses for Us (superior)
and Them (inferior)
"They are not like we;
but lower curs."
we may harm with unfettered glee
Cursed to be cut to our requirement.
Borders clear
"Here, fear fences in
our livelihood and wives."
Leave THEM to putrid pits
cunning jabs,
our pleasure.
Thus, all treasure that might regale,
heal, reveal true worth,
of man and Earth
sold for pittance of potash
to dance a weary jig



Earth’s Sign


Under the Wesak Moon
Where the Buddha crossed the quarters,
graciously approached liminal wisdom
Our Lady Goddess guides
We who dance in shadow
We who turn the Earth,
bless the seed,
feel awakened in darkness,
feel the turning sacred, consecrated
to the between air of transformation
where enlightenment,
eternal bliss
encounter life
Burst of joy quietly encountered
Fly my eyes into such belief
Where sweet Earth heroically replies
to my pleas for splendorous relief
just over the border
moving through the periphery
pattern-seeking epicenter runs within
swirling cosmos fire, flood, cerebral hemorrhage,
tsunami
herded into healing net
The love of love
The hope for blinding light that bathes
all cares with caring


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The Earth screams
People die before their time
or never get much life
Species die, their music silenced
Crazy theories of wealth
belie obligation or simply seeing
the laws of consequence
Scream Earth!
Pierce the cosmos with your
terrible cry
Acid rain burning through gold
falls



night blooms


Come, say I
Enjoy the desert night blooms --
rare, exquisite, alive.
Quiet, the primeval cold,
parched, freeze-dried.
No purposeful future
divined.
The stories I spin ...
Old, alien
unmarked steps upon the Earth.
no meaning
no warmth
I walk primeval, exquisite landscape
dry, old, eternal
to enjoy the blooming.



Sacred Geology


Rich earth
decomposing life
imbuing myriad layers
of sacred spirit
Memories upon memories
scarred into the land
making it holy
a bounty of beauty
irrigated by tears
and less voluntary bodily fluids
living loam
revitalizing
luscious fruits
giving back what was taken
Partaking of the feast
we are blessed
renewed in holy essence
in the fullness of time
the cycle reclaims
all that we are
that we may become
yet more richly
layered



Sun greets Earth
a hearty slap
hot and sassy



Mothers' Night


cascading shards
uneasy
echoes falling
"It's our calling."
Rape of Earth,
hot spurts of words
savage knives
Abiding Mothers,
sacred and mundane
twist into harridan
cold stars
wail, hurtling waves
Sad, old, crust of ages
sliced, screwed, carved up for profit
"It's not the color of the skin,
the culture of the smile"
the scent of danger,
the inborn stranger --
all excuses for Us (superior)
and Them (inferior)
"They are not like we;
but lower curs."
we may harm with unfettered glee
Cursed to be cut to our requirement.
Borders clear
"Here, fear fences in
our livelihood and wives."
Leave THEM to putrid pits
cunning jabs,
our pleasure.
Thus, all treasure that might regale,
heal, reveal true worth,
of man and Earth
sold for pittance of potash
to dance a weary jig



Earth’s Sign


Under the Wesak Moon
Where the Buddha crossed the quarters,
graciously approached liminal wisdom
Our Lady Goddess guides
We who dance in shadow
We who turn the Earth,
bless the seed,
feel awakened in darkness,
feel the turning sacred, consecrated
to the between air of transformation
where enlightenment,
eternal bliss
encounter life
Burst of joy quietly encountered
Fly my eyes into such belief
Where sweet Earth heroically replies
to my pleas for splendorous relief
just over the border
moving through the periphery
pattern-seeking epicenter runs within
swirling cosmos fire, flood, cerebral hemorrhage,
tsunami
herded into healing net
The love of love
The hope for blinding light that bathes
all cares with caring


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Why are drugs part of common culture?
Why is weed part of youth culture?
Kids aren’t held down and force fed pot smoke until they are hooked. It’s a great deal more than the simplistic label “peer pressure” implies.
It is what we do, cultural norms.
People want to get high together. If we saw that not a sin but a normal desire, why not educate ourselves, our kids in what these chemicals do?
Not “no-no” negative emphasis, but useful information so we could best enjoy the sought for pleasure with the least to no unwanted consequences.
Why not be honest about what we want, who we are, rather than playing these horrific games of virtuous denial?
We are safest, sanest, happiest, truly dealing with these realities.

4/20/13

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"state-shifting myth shapers"!!! holy flying fuck i love that lololol

brought to you by


hOLy CHaoS ~ Emerging Visions #17 ~ April 1
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Why suffer fools at all? They can certainly suffer just fine for themselves.


A Fool I've been
walking behind visions
cringing from derision
seeking solace from a merry Moon
too soon gone old
Laughing back on follies
sticking pins in pain -- jolly?
Morose, cold ...
harridan crone
Have my wanderings sown
no happy harvest, raised no cozy home?
Snuggling into punishing remorse
"You knew you should have run a better course!"
"You know you deserve to be alone."
Is that true? Am I the Fool careening
down the precipice,
broken, no meaning;
is this my hapless fate?
Or self-hate insisting I mistake
a journey for a goal?
A Fool can be a cherished, merry soul
dancing the golden mountain trail
reveling in freezing rain and snow
tasting the bite without bitterness
This I know

Memories, they weave a silken web in silence
We talk of times past in gently measured tones,
sometimes bitter humor.
We watch a bird circling in the distance,
and build patterns in the clouds.
Last year I spied a mole burrowing in
the unmelted snow of early spring.
Today I tend to think of you
smiling as you did last night
when you first saw me after parting.



Spring Medley


Air clear as a free-running stream
tumbling over country rocks and minty greenery
Clear soft air of early spring
Breathing satsang, reeling eternity,
While running 'cross the straight-lined highway
-- shouting
"Hey sky, embrace me!" shouting
I embrace the air and call it Love.
I love you, love you, love you, love you
I
Form, Words, Action
I in motion
I in tumbling, stumbling, crazy image
kaleidoscope
over 'n' over
love you, love you, love you, love you
Capture the essence for an almost noninstant
Capture the image of groping, grabbing, grasping
gazing heartfelt on release, but
love you, love you, love you, love you
insane, insatiable
cannot touch release of
love you, love you, love you, love you
Smothering in the too pure air.


Hey, Springtime,
Got some time to be wasting
So I tracked a songbird
on a still bare treebranch
and joined it in song.
What wonder the woods bring
I can't contain it.
Thistle and briar weeds
Capture my imagination
Grow wild and tangly
All through my mind.


Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying.
Spring is for being born
(or maybe sometimes Winter --
something has to take you through
those long cold months of snow and ice).
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying
(when the leaves change colors
and fall and blow
into the frost and first fall snow).
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying.
(Why do you weep for me, sister,
long heartfelt sobs of dismay?
Why do you weep as I drift off to sleep
for many and many a day?
Today I shall die so tonight I may fly
-- with the leaves I'll be scattered away.)
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying.
(But I only die today that I may be reborn
tomorrow, when the warm kiss of Spring
touches the earth,
bringing promise of joyous rebirth
and months of summer sun,
when leaves turn green again.)
Spring is for being born;
Autumn for dying.




Renewal


Faded jackolantern,
darkened eyes obscured;
blooming trees
branches swaying,
picking up the tempo
dancing 'n' jivin'
in merry celebration
of Spring.
Look at us flounce our skirts
rolling our hips
licking our lips
ready to rollick,
enticing pregnant play.
Let the goodtimes roll
on down the verdant hillside
winter's sorrows
spilling out like seed
cleansed free
singing in the
flowing rain
recombinant flowers and wildlife.
Stories hidden,
tangled and mired in
tired decades of dust and gloom
swept into light by chance,
unobscured in the gently falling rain,
taken up, given honoured place
singing now in the ritual chorus.
Timeless chanting,
calling in vibrant winds.
Moving, re- and un- engaging,
ever changing,
never wholly new.





When All Fails


And it’s always on to the next adventure.
Random leaves flicker roads of desolate
neglect
trod and cried
over, fallen quicksand depths demanding
flight
for survival.
Frozen wings, sudden sparkling cold
commanding
damp unforgiven. Bent below, tramps
expecting handouts,
bankers expecting deeds,
women expecting hollow forcomings.
There is no easy fantasy. Tales of fates and
magics
lie on quantum desperation, haunted nights.
Winter always lurks on Spring’s horizon.
Keep moving; keep life singing, gyrating for
warmth.
The road long saturated with evil, rise above.
Learn, grieve, abandon.
Envision a grander hope, shining spire
beckoning.



healing balm of Spring
washing winter sorrows
in hope of warm tomorrows
the flowering they bring

woman's worlds
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