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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Happy Valentine’s Day, Darling …

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Morning breaks in the red ruddy flames of Dawn’s plumb and blush … sleepless bedlam born have I been with wine stung eyes masked in anticipation … anxious tears wear the dancing crone’s stem in ritual cascades beneath a mighty thundering gather … my skirts are yellow as Rudbeckiah’s petals with cornflower ruffles, polka dotted and gingham in the manner the Phoebe sings … its own joyful soul liquid in trills and moss maiden purposes … It is in his love’s bower my heart keeps spry, wise, and sunrise surprised at what news the blue skink shall bring to window pane … poem and uttered palette knife collage travels through ions on spider web silk succor and chalk painted prayers … beetle dung orb anchored celestial illuminations affixed to his canvas slipping wormhole wobbles with the ancient excrement of all peoples in One skin … this is his Spirit’s time clock and rip cord flying squirrel sun dial, where it’s always the moment of Now … of his most precious choosing … My gladness buds from the rust of city rail and rain gutter drain remains from lord less fools who disdain such beautiful veins … cat whisker chin tickling garden gains thrive where color cast Babbit grains and the granite Adam roams the maze … ever a seeker of a finer faire cause rosy sway … tis noble I say … a cause I sink satin and sword alike in to stay a course worthy of Inanna’s grace … for I love him as soul’s first felt lace in the darkness when reaching towards Light … auric circumference of Luna’s bright shadow … I, ever bitten, brave, and bare throated in happy bondage to love’s priceless surrender.
2/14/2017

© 2017 cdd All Rights Reserved

#NaPoWriMo 26 For Whom is the Honey Made?

Why does the bee labour so?

Why do the blossoms come?

Why has the honeycomb stood?

So long in this trusted wood?

For whom is the honey made?

For man, for beast, for micro mind?

For metamorphic clocks of time?

Why have we come to drink our own?

And murder so the host that binds?

For whom is the honey made?

Ask yourself, while there is still time.

#NaPoWriMo 26
© 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

Beauty from Julie Sopetran’s Blog

A Stunning and Beautiful Tutorial for Children to learn the Trees this spring also a wonderful site on Word Press for Poetry and the Wisdom of Life. I encourage you to visit this site and share it with others.

Haikus For Children to Learn the Trees

by Julie Sopetran

https://eltiempohabitado.wordpress.com/haikus-para-ninos-aprender-de-los-arboles/

Get to know the extraordinary woman who created this blog.

Julie Sopetran Do You Want to Know?

https://eltiempohabitado.wordpress.com/%C2%BFquieres-conocerme/

 Gracias and Thank You Julie for being a Wise Woman, Mentor, and Grand Mother. God Bless You.

Minnie Toney

Grand Mother had white silver hair which lay upon her back,

A braid that grew thin when it was the end of her keeping,

She sat quiet mostly when we all came to visit her,

Not sure who each everyone belongs to anymore,

Yet, still she smiles and the light in her eyes is not gone,

Like the flower greeting cards she tapes to the hallway arch,

Since her stroke, now we are the only garden she has known,

She has been gone now for more than 30 years and we still,

Say her name, pretend she just stepped out into that garden,

There will come a day we will be blessed with her again.

#NaPoWriMo 3

© 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

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.