NaPoWriMo 2017 #2

Glory and Goodbyes

The singing of glory songs is common in the tent camp of mutation … come follow the tracks of Snake Oil doctors … their wagons heavy laden with the sins of scam and dereliction toward the eldest, those suffering … learn a trade you can fall back on when your day job is misguided by the prairie fires and dust bowl prayer pamphlets … they will be printed on the backs of recycled WWII Sugar Ration coupons … The day we buried the most beloved elder of our nation he met her at the white man’s roadside … his clothes no more than rags now, the buckskins of his youth shredded beneath the towers of steel and copper indigenous compression, now thought to be his Sunday best black wool teasel brushed … he wore his moccasins in protest … only those with their hearts still aligned with Great Spirit could see them …He had walked to the hard road from somewhere in the shadow of the pines where few ever cared to wander anymore or any less … his thin skinned face telling stories to the rocks and upwards warmth seeking blossoms … as the path of his eyes was only the few steps ahead of where the dust rose in constant presence … cradled in his hand was a hat, not fitting the suit or moccasins yet, trembling for was his heart … as she passed in the gas piston carriage for the final time … he bowed his head with a depth of slightness which even the trees ceased their sway to catch in their branches … centuries rose from the aura about him and his countenance rode on the four winds once again with her … their sacrifices palpable even to the rain who quenched Spirits’ thirsts metamorphosed into the sweetness we each cotton … blessed and forbidden … bringing none the less our choice of flower fair or vain, glory or disdain, is that which meets us each on the final journey home … to love perhaps, as he did secretly … for you have a fairer face to guard and gain … a road to travel in a way for remembrance from which we all came … may all your noble lives remain joyfully arranged.

© 2017 cdd All Rights Reserved

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Pan is Lost Please Share

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Lisa Dunlap

LOST Kitty

If you can pass this along I would appreciate it.

If you have seen him you can contact me with a comment

here or email at carladawn64@gmail.com.

Thank you so much !!!

I’ve lost my boy, Pan. 😦 He’s just a year old & his brother is mourning his loss as well. Pan is an orange tiger stripe about 11 pounds w/ long body arms & legs. Has a quiet meow but purrs like a chainsaw! 🙂 Lost Wed April 29th Sherwood Drive / Brown Station area, Columbia, MO. He’s an inside only boy & is probably scared to death.

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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A New Year begins …

My new year begins with my birthday. This year I did not take down my blogs as is my custom. I decided to leave the work up and let it stand since it had been such a transitional year for me. If you see posts disappearing, they are merely being rearranged and archived for what I hope will be a fruitful new year of inspiration and positive movement in my work. I wish all of you the same with the Brightest of Blessings, Peace, and Love.

In Spiritual Sisterhood,

Carla Dawn