NaPoWriMo 2017 #7

Glory’s voice, utterer, potter’s wheel clay culled of Crone Moon and Milky Way,

Starchild, do not seek tenders and hope amongst the colors of your visioned sight,

The heart who claims love yet, holds the darkness as for you a guiding light,

Captive, craven you shall become, as the raven is to the black he sought for envy,

Feed them not with green pools, copper lamp pupil gated souls. sweet glance or glare,

For turning away will their mechanism be, to fantasy, id and ego plated, awaited,

Delicious dishes mirrored selves, both snails and eggs and puppy dog tails,

Go out instead and dress the trees in this your lorn laced ruffled sleeves,

Arm fulls embrace, curtsy the leaves, kissing bark veins, cheeking mossy tellings,

Drawn water as if sapling springs from mountain thaws, awakening warmth in their further fruits,

Not yet even a bud of thought in a twig’s lonesome dreams, when Autumn sings,

There will be found the seeds, the husk for Earth and Star’s child to circle round,

Rhyme past thyme sleeping lazy in the summer sun swinging on the ripened vine,

Hop the creek, toes to minnows cool waters, and algae slimes as tadpoles divine time there,

Now lives for the beauty the children feel in their close and most precious Host,

The Voices of our souls can not express lest we sing the cellular Nature songs,

When we were and Who we are while dancing to Where shall we go next my friend ?

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NaPoWriMo 2017 #6

Bella Rosa Dreams

(for all my Sisters who have survived to rise again)

I used to come here to write … to find some semblance of sanity in this otherwise maddened waking world … today there are people squawking venom at each other and pretending to call that love … love grows on a willow trees, from welts the flesh  pleas while tied fast to the briers’ sting … you’d rather Cerridwen’s swine be dragging you through the cold December mud than pray your hand defend you in the fight for freedom … for that child has every right to bear dignity … oh yes, it’s still the mind bend of whips and chains, the stare of wishes into coffin remains that will greet you each day … black nights spent looking for a candle flicker beneath the doorway, from some enchanted creature who stole through the gates undiscovered … to shadowing their light on a darkness of your poems … perhaps, she’s floating on a muddled puddle reflection … the moonless night left when he trundled off to bed behind the castle ruins … dragons of chained for eating the neighbors cows again… she found a slip knot and shimmied through to bring me a single ray of hope … to weave catching my breath through curls and carry quietly … for when it all got too blue we’d pull it out and blast them back to the hell from hence they came… Tonight though, be it night or day it matters not for light never reaches us here … I am bound about laid out and powdered, oiled, perfumed, and laced up to view … to skew … to pile drive with out even a word … Tonight I’m yours to do …
Your back gulching drum driven desires crawl scream tagged and beaten back down my darkest faith forbidden fathomless bottom hole … where I lay worn in pretty bows your mind assigns to cover tattered worn ash … where only hatred flames remain … the gains of piercing bores bite first my back flesh.. yes, gain your stronghold there, while you bust me from behind dig the very marrow of your finger bones though my breasts to the hollow my heart used to reside in before I let you dine on my self negligence … tear them from my torso if you will … I am bound … I am will less … rip out my hair if i would lend you my neck … veins to slice and suckle madly … red velvet love wine spilling over … flowing fount of your mouth’s gauge and the violent bucking you train my ass to follow or it’s more pain for me … my bound arms back about your neck … legs tied wide you could stand with me if you wished … if you dared … I am surrender in every language a man every sought to teach a woman … since he found she could subdue him with her selves … If you get greedy enough to lick the blood running down my spine in a Kundalini serpentine candy column crimson velvet … wings will sprout from your wounds and I will grow horns upon my raven black head … i will spear you if you dare give me an opening … for We are the daughters of Goddess, her hand maidens … born to the breasts of the Valkeries when the Our Father sought us too eagerly , too soon, too sickly for his wounds …

© 2017 cdd All Rights Reserved

The mosaic ginger …

The mosaic ginger of the tree lined summer streets which hold in their leafy memories words you spoke walking home on rainless nights … fill my anticipated inhales with the now autumn scuffles and damp near Decembers … your tea cup companion not far behind, sweetening the rippled edges … the barest of branches now play a whistling tune to the snow’s vein … echoing poetic your soul’s limber catch … and I welcome a deeply moist evening’s vapor … under starry skies … only slightly ajar from a common alignment … smiling, in awe of your loving me still …

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved  11/23/2016

Love of you …

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Love of you has turned me into mermaids,

swimming in the spring pond today,

the koi think I am the Goddess,

sunning brazenly they play,

the turtle bring shells and snail eggs,

I braid into my hair,

so, the dragonflies can carry me,

away where dreamers dare,

if my silence ever does worry,

speak to me through blue crayons,

for the black birds told me no stories,

except how to translate the Sun (shine),

the leaves of grass were calling,

to dance beneath the sky clad moonlight,

my lips chanting incantations,

breathing your name calling forth your light,

the night flowers became so jealous,

they tied me to a River Birch,

beneath my skin, under my scales,

they scrawled their pretty worth,

Now I can only be a woman when,

you caress my petal portal skin.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

 

Dreams did not visit me last,
I fitful tossed for rhyme for reason,
liquidity of spirit lost in foretold fortunes,
and Gypsy’s charms boots or pistols,
fish slipping hooks returning to the rivers,
the barbs of rivalry the cost he well considered,
frost bitten gardens bare of flower’s names,
angel manes tear stained remains re-framed,
sill glass broken bleeding gain for Charlemagne,
yet, never shall be blamed for toil begs to sane,
the fisher of mermaids with sorrow’s net,
when love rains blue bleeding veins of regret,
these are the vestiges of wars desiring to be reborn,
I’d rather feed the birds my names than join ranks,
Love and crackling dream rock corn seed cakes,
than plant a mourner’s field of fickle weed,
for the Maiden Spring to tangle march,
with the binding of heart’s ankle crops,
The Queen of Swords, The Empress stand,
One of weilding metal, One of humming land,
Sweet path I walk of Mother’s harvest clan,
gather do I Winter’s storage grains,
with the stone sickle of Perfect Love in one hand,
the goblet silver Peace drink I of the other,
bow and curtsy eye to eye,
with the Lord and Lady, by and by,
This Self is ever ebbing as the windy rye,
The self of man will haunt then die,
Seems, I must razor walk the skies.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

A Prophecy

 

The peacock’s latch and key feather frames of the boundless Benoit Mandelbrot refraction within the eyes of our most ancient antecedents … splay meringue spread fully fan … an altar ripe reason to carry him vestibule varied to the temple … upon thrones of Rose of Jericho come from foreign deserts to blossom in privileged honor … their fern frond palms out stretched and moist with the duty of their birth … the children are gone now who had come plant blessings …  frond to tiny button finger tipped palm and prayer pressed as messengers of The Light … it is with this blessed assurance the footmen arrive to carriage the Lord home again , “Light as a feather and stiff as a board ” … they move the sand thrones of deserted time … his tail of a thousand eyes following behind to ward and wary a protective parade … against all spiritual poisons of those who desire to merely fest on the flesh and deem pot block the sins of others … boiling their intestinal fortitude into cloyed purple confections pate for their supper … hearts can beat without bowels and skin as well … suck the marrow of our roasted bones, cheese the brains as you care, to our sorrows swim in the blood of pools you gathered when slain the strutting Self you dared … the colors you scent all in your sighted worlds, your pox blankets and whiskey, your lands and treaties … we are like the peafowl we carry our colors within … do as you will, you can, you may, and you choose … the farther you tear at us the more light you shall find … shrouded in Crone and Warrior, Wisdom and Hag, Father and Mother, Grandmother and Elder … pink and wanting, brought and borrowed, Mother moon spun spelled … All Goddess granted, bright or shelled … your ultimate gift must always be, the part of you She entails.

July 11, 2016 2:30 am
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

 

Button clad agaric caution …

800px-2006-10-25_Amanita_muscaria_crop

Button clad agaric caution hosts the greenest compliments the mosses know to braille brush the aspen’s whispers … with surest harmony found beneath the courageous first ice to die in Spring’s frail hands … the steam of your tea pot, bath, and clinging window vapors … The forest path urged me to gain all I could from the shadows and stem of tree tailored light … I nodded not wanting to break your silence.

© 2016 cdd All Right Reserved

PhotoCredit: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amanita_muscaria#/media/File:2006-10-25_Amanita_muscaria_crop.jpg