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 ?

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

Button clad agaric caution …

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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

Puns and Punctuation

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I used to come to the altar of offerings to bleed for you in single strands of my diluted blue blood punctuated elixirs … finery frost and the web of maidenhair remembrances written on winds which slumbered while my heart made ready only that which would serve thee … love was their carriage master … It was in the winter nights I wandered ice ghost stone shell of a lover left in me … East my feet blue as the vein untapped would creep … to your window panes and brittle break upon their fragile pain as toe dance I would to see you pen … bay tea and herb, parchments and hound … yet, seldom was it you I found … so in love with the moon you were that she had your gaze, your lips, the touch of that which goes beyond what most can bear or bare … the pebbles I pelted upon our skull were never felt by your mortal core … all the same you turned and smiled right through me … 

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2016 #30

Freedom

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Sweat wand hair triggers press the oil stain of guilt upon life’s innocent … in the scope’s glass the assassin’s eye synced to God’s pupil dilation … reacting only to the dark side of the moon these days … the remainder of the time seeking the light of the angel’s looms … weaving man’s additional moments based on when Leonard Peltier dreams of making love …

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2016 #23

The prompt today was to write a Sonnet.

“Traditionally, sonnets are 14-line poems, with ten syllables per line, written in iambs (i.e., with a meter in which an unstressed syllable is followed by one stressed syllable, and so on). ” via the NaPowriMo website http://www.napowrimo.net/

I ended up with 17 lines yet, in iambic pentameter. It has been many years since I’ve adhered to form being an utterer. I decided to leave it be. I hope you don’t mind.

dbb7953fHow shall I be a bride to death once more,
Your black rose has been left upon my door,
Speaking of your light as if the Source,
Deaf calling cards with no hint of remorse,
The Specter came to claim my bridely hand,
That morning we were to be wife and man,
His claw upon my fair face it was froze,
And withered did he every single rose,
I ran the streets in lace and pasty pearls,
The constable was sent to search the Burroughs,
Yet, to his horrified steads broken gate,
Abandoned was the man thrown on road slate,
Lo, the guests arrived from ghostly lands,
Vows recited to the baying of Hell hounds,
Death wore bat spats and a satin tie,
I stood wishing it were I to die,
You crossing not shades to claim, love in vain.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2016 #15

The prompt tonight was to write on the subject of two or the other.

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Between Your Curse and Mine

The bridge is burning between your curse and mine … you said it was mutual, my dreams said otherwise … Horus’ claw tearing at my heart from it’s magnet chamber … as the Underworld fell crippling all about me … gloss black glass and vacant flames … as your absence remains … you are not the disciple and I cannot allow Maat to weigh my hindrance as yet … nor feed my flesh to the crocodiles … though they sleep only to out wit me … I shall walk the red hot coals to breathe your world’s air … trust me … your dominion is not defined cask and cade … beg a cause for peace and I will lend you my rope and spy glass … the colorlessness of coming Winter will be here once more soon enough … his Lord’s prism and electric pride parade dancing on the edge of forever … I will save you a seat beside the Queen … if you will put out the fire.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved