NaPoWriMo 2017 #3

The Mortal’s Prize

Ceiling slats and shadow rats,
the perceptible shards you left,
in attic halls of dampened walls,
piss stained bourbon kush craned air,
self destructive lint bred lairs,
that darkness bled your soul’s light for,
protoplasmic B- white cell chaos,
corner connective fascination,
that’s the mortal’s prize.

© 2017 cdd All Rights Reserved

Luna Moth Fever

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Last poem to the present and pertinent heart … for with only a week to live …  I’ve luna moth fever with you on my mind…

the plum bracket of my silvery span wrapped around seven degrees above wondering …. that which I am too humble to inquire …

Do I keep you up at night as you do this frail flight? … Can the fruit of my sweet gum branch perfuming your daydreams so … that when night falls with an elixir the moon dew dropped as your remedy …

You might hear through magic means my call … were your words ever spoken with my pale wings upon your tongue ?

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved Aug. 7, 2015

… on the edge of time she has waited …

RosetteNeb

… on the edge of time she has waited … toes sipping the star pools spinning galaxies with stories her eyes hide for lack of magic handling by snake doctors and fools … she only thought she had a song or knew the colors of darkness … the night rainbow’s secrets or the rose’s dew in her playful potions … until you tapped her on the shoulder with your “May I take you by surprise?” … like Alice she began tumbling through the gates of … at last there will be a crest to align worlds to … undone … balls of molecular twine your dendrites to hers for they are ever rearranging … to suit the lovely star maps you leave upon her mind with even the mere whisper … the slight sigh … completed is her undone in all that is thine … breath of new convergence … morning … noon … and night …

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The stars spoke saying,”We are the constant, the spark of dark flame within your illumination. You are the path we guide our birthing by.”

I know it to be truth for your warmth wrapped about me, the quilt of eastern breezes, and I was held in an eternal womb of your vibrant sky dust.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Saying Goodbye

420957_365555960124650_989349055_nSaying Goodbye, well that’s simply not possible … we are a part of each other now … you have not listened, when the breeze leaves the lake headed for window’s broken pane … to reach your sweet flesh again … daily, I write … when the heat is too much to bear … sweat culling my back as droplets off the twigs of Pinyons in the thawing mountain mornings … these paths in my mind clear enough to hear the raven’s wing stroke silence above … the fans lull illusions away … mere fingers for clothing and digit~less prayers to pray … Do you softly gently ever ? … Do eyes remain in a bowl upon the chair ? … I fingertip and hand dance, holy …  muscle moist and glorify the imperfection … be the gift what was intended when we became … It’s been so long since I’ve dropped clean through the net like this … and yes, the thought of you does …

© 2016 Cdd  all rights reserved

Good Night My Fellow Poets …

The sun set this evening in a blaze of pinkish coral and sherbet orange outlining the cottontail tufts of the sky high thunder clouds … the ghost trails were more distinct than I have seen them in many moons … hot white traces of memories the Summer has yet imagined while spinning in the dew cuddled rain … eyes closed … all smiles … not caring if we fell in the mud or forgot our way home for a time … the sky was that which childhood has daydreams about when it cannot react to hearing Mother calling it’s name … it is too lost in the beauty in the pureness the butterfly must know all too well  … and those of us who have been lucky enough to love from the bottom of a hungry belly cling to when we sleep alone one more night … at times I trace the cloud edges with my fingertips … other times with my mind’s eyes … on days like this, however, the gods do this for all of us … we are all favored in the Light and in the Love which originates from the collective … Sweet and Bright Blessings Brothers and Sisters of Spirit …  I must sleep.

Love and Peace to you all,

Carla Dawn

 

Hello my friends …

I trust the Spring has been moderately dry for you all. Here we are extremely wet and weary of flooding most any day. The weather and work has kept me away for a time. I am making my way back to the pen and parchment at last. I have missed sharing and more than this, I missed reading all of you. There are times when life gives you a fascinating surprise. Just when you believe you have settled in and resigned yourself to “the way things are” once in awhile you receive a huge gift from above. I have been so blessed and I am able to now spend time catching up with my fellow writers and artists here. It is comforting to be back in your company. I look forward to each tomorrow.

Bright Blessings,

Carla Dawn

Catching up …

Posting the last of my belated Poetry Month entries is complete now. I will have time to catch up with all of you soon and read what was written while I was away working.  I have read a few. There was some nice work done.  I look forward to getting back on Twitter and the networking track again.  We have restructured during April. Our fondest hopes are that I will be able to share more and share more of all of you as well. May you have a wonderful Sunday.

The Alexandra, in Self Found

It is no secret I am a great admirer of Mr. Leonard Cohen. I don’t use the word fan because it seems to cheapen what an artist does, for me at least. It tends, in this age, to separate them from the sacredness of that which art used to embody. I introduced a friend of mine to Leonard a few weeks ago. He is only about 6 years my junior, however our upbringing in some ways was so drastically differing that he had never heard of Mr. Cohen despite, “knowing” a few pieces of his music from the radio over the years.  The first song I shared with him was a live version of “Suzanne” for  it is such a stirring descriptive tale of our human connections and often the ways in which we are opened to one another even when we believe there may be nothing for us to be touched by.

It has been another lady friend of Leonard’s who had been running through my mind lately though. She was Alexandria. I know most of his work yet, I had never encountered this song before. So, like my friend, we were able to experience something very sacred and explore an aspect of the feminine together, through a similar vein.

“Alexandra Leaving” came to me, or rather I was led to her, one late night as I was working on line feeling very intensely the truths of being a woman and of just having gone through my Rights of Passage to join the mighty Grandmothers and the Crones.

My very good friend and Author, Seth Mullins taught me how to be painfully honest with myself. Seth is one of the most amazing people I have ever met and he has pioneered the field of Dream Dowsing through Spiritual Self~Exploration in a way that I had never encountered before we became acquainted. He is a remarkable human being and in my struggle this particular night I thought of what Seth might do ? The answer was to let Spirit lead me.

Spirit led me to Leonard, as is so often the case. There the first song waiting was “Alexandra Leaving”. The song is based on a poem by Constantine Cavafy

http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/cavafy.html

In experiencing the song I realized what I was trying to tell myself and My Self. It was a message of great encouragement. It was a love letter of sorts to this woman. It was nothing to do with sorrow or feeling anything except at peace with where I am in this moment, owning the space, the honor, the breath and depth or who I Am. It was truly a beautiful happening I had sought out for myself to experience. The Grandmother in me empowering the woman just setting herself on this Change of Life Path. “All is well, you are strong, this was foretold that you would be able to withstand.” In those moments, I was simply filled with a peaceful understanding of where I have been in this life and why, to some extent. The journey widened, any darkness became more light at the horizon. we grasp hands, and smiling began to walk on together.

There was a time in my life I would not thought of seeing 50 years old. Now, I have conversations about how the word “old” is just so wrong !! Life is a journey back to our youth, I believe, we are only meant to understand at the moments when we can open fully to it’s glory and it’s light. There is no describing it. We poets and scholars strive to. Those of us who have had moments of touching the face of God, Oh we swim backwards through time trying to capture even a split second of that ecstasy like a dream unimaginable it is so thick and pungent in our mouths and hollow in our stomachs. Yet, the Saktipata of Oneness can only happen when it is meant to, if we let our tumblers fall into place, if we are willingly led. I hope to love myself again so well as I did when “Alexandra Leaving” found me and helped me to understand a bit more of my grace in this world. For this, I thank Leonard Cohen, as ever, for all his wisdom and self discover shared with the world. He is and has been one of our greatest gifts.

I will not abandon this woman. I truly hope young women who feel a time when they are restless or hopeless will perhaps be led here and find Alexandra as well. Perhaps, they will identify more with Suzanne and her feathers from Salvation Army counters. Just never give up on yourself because if I had … I would have never know how amazing I was going to be at 50 and how groovy life gets. You will cry with joy when you arrive and see the beauty of it all. You would never believe it when the pain is so horrible but trust me. I have been there and the sun is warm, the colors are vivid, the Grand Mothers here are kind, and we welcome you all with love and cookies and ribbons for your hair. Your Alexandra can always be found.