It Must Be Taken to The Trees

The Eagle is hunting far a field for Dove and Mouse as Snake has now made it’s way deep into holes where warmth can coo and coil it in a widdershins dance until the Beltane fires awaken the passions stolen from the fire in man’s belly …
 
If you want a bride of the Lord and Lady, it must be taken to the trees, Good Puck led through thorn blaze thicket to the Queen of Oberon her ire sworn be if not in phaery trust comes he for mortal and half Changeling is she …
 
Though time may steal what life cannot see, together we shame it for naught, the Earth bed and Sky blanket will ever recall, how we walked between their watchful eyes and to what ends we loved those beyond our own self indulgences …

{From: Songs of Love’s Soul}

 © 2014 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Rights Reserved

Still, I am without you

The shallow shelves of ice have begun to frame the edges of the pond beds here … Still, I am without you … Bare tree tops brushed with the red rush of oak expression not yet given unto the Lord of Frost … Still, I am without you … They will dream of Summer’s warmth and drink her sunshine, as long as we do … Still, I am without you … The beetles make their final march to the caves while there is time enough and mud uncovered to seal them in their winter tombs … Still, I am without you.

{From: Songs of Love’s Soul}

 © 2014 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Rights Reserved

Return of the Holy Ghost

Inner angel’s chamber walls are lined with the down of the mild weeds having shown grace to upon the brittle kisses October’s last gasping cry for hope held in patient and pious prayer…
Could you not see her light held within the cocoon or hear the hummingbird’s melody resounding in the dew upon the Last Rose of Summer gathered at the foot of the Iron Wood tree, She will scent the storax when Spring comes again …
Wings wound about Her naked countenance sad sins saded or happy harem horned, She suffers the same fate To Be when Semblance at last comes for his swollen sucker and phantom phaery feast… 

{From: Songs of Love’s Soul}

 © 2014 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Rights Reserved

Passing moment

Passing moment

Perspectives on Life, the Universe and Everything

Few words,
countless emotions,
fading memories
And she said
Come back, we all await
the day you return
lantern is still lit
gallery where your paintings
we sold for pennies
then in gold coins too many
long for your presence
such long absence
from us, and her
she misses youIMG_0239.JPG

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I voyage in a body

Wuji Seshat

36

I go among the body
Of the world
I walk and breathe and talk
A roundabout human
Experience arriving forever

Passing youth together
To the sunlit center
Of a city brief
In the history of time
I go among the body

Of the planet
But I am a cell without
Knowing it, we have
This myth of individuality
It’s a pleasant thought

To imagine being free
But I am protein and blood
Like any creature
I depend upon oxygen and light
Water and the creativity

That makes my life meaningful
I go among the body
With a harvest of womb
And genes burning
For some journey

Like a dream I keep
Making children
As if the outcome is always
Better and special
And we break into

Daylight as always
Aware and alone
That the world is talking
About itself to itself
And not truly to us.

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I have no never, because of you

Wuji Seshat

37

You must know what I
Do not like in ideas
That I am biology
Crude and mechanical

But as everything as
Its two sides, in reality
I love you in order to
Fulfil my biology and

Romantic notions of how
To start infinity again
Or in your womb weave
The joys of the future

You must know that I
Am passionate about the future
My love has two lives
In order to love you I must

Secure a better position
And not get too caught
In your sinking eyes
And the your charisma

The nuances of cherries
And the mischief of the fox
The grapes that you like
In the hard gold of your cheeks

And the blue limits of your goodness
The swelling equation
Beneath your breasts
You must know that I

Suffer to remain progressive
Though by instinct
Your hips are like opaque pearls
And your touch has

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I have been away …

I have been away yet my pen still flows from time to time … perhaps, with this winter’s arrival I will stay …

The white birch is witness in random guard and sentinel fair beside the umber and scotch brown tones of the naked branched fence rows preparing to slumber into the Holly King’s reign. The jays and sister crows in the newly barren fields at hasten to find seed or grain left from harvests’ tarry turn and speak yet do not  scatter at my passing. Hunger and the wanton drive takes precedence my footfalls and woolen cape flagging the wind. The shy cornflower and mauve of Morning’s remains are since muted behind promise resting in the clouds there will be another soft snow tonight. Time huddles the hedgerows in it’s arms a deep trundle lullaby will be lent there before Dawn drinks the midnight blue elixir alchemized from stars dipped in eglantine. I turn my head back into the wind’s full brunt beginning to make my way back into the safety of the tree line when the first huge buck spots me.  Lowering his huge white velvet rack and pawing at the dry loose grass of the meadow’s forgotten summer, the billows of steamy rank breath escape his fully expanded nostrils causing the caution in his eyes to pierce me through and through, I stand frozen knowing it will be my only hope for survival. We are locked in a dangerous game of mundane and beast. Then it happens, with a mighty thrust of his head into the stillness of the thick damp darkening air, he bellows and I break for it. I can hear nothing now except the breaking of the forest floor beneath my boots and the thunderous beating of  decisively justified hooves growing ever closer.

© 2014 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved Nov. 18, 2014