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

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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

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

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Art Credit: Tomasz Alen Kopera

Now is the briefest passage of the gloaming light … mustard flecked goblin suspensions of Spirit’s absinthe carpet between worlds … mosaic cedar peridot shadows cast craving capillaries to crest upon ethereal shores … we wait … our nakedness hidden behind the frail coats of the illuminated unkindness of Winter … it is not yet ready to trade our smiles for the warmth Pangea may measure with both sunlight and the breath of the stars in their ecstatic chants to Baba … the forest is brief in its mating … all above and below tis sacred glow revealed as it once was … not as we made it so … bark and branch as kindred kings carrying lark, lichen, moss, and lamp likened skies of pure pervading glory …  in the turning cast, the evening’s shadow, fauns a delicate blanket of faery tales yet unwritten … lovers await the deepening safety, the negral of night … to taste the darkness of surrender’s kiss …

© 2016 Cdd All Rights Reserved

Please visit this link for more of Tomasz’s astounding art work. Support the Arts They are the foundation of our freedoms. Blessings, Carla Dawn

http://www.tuttartpitturasculturapoesiamusica.com/2013/01/Tomasz-Alen-Kopera.html

© Tutt’Art@ | Pittura * Scultura * Poesia * Musica |

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 #18

The prompt today was to use a phrase from an instructional or informative manual of some sort. I chose “Earl Mindell’s Herb Bible”. The Chinese say of Ginseng, “… prolong life and make one feel young.”

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To speak a phrase strung for the elegance of finger tipped strands … pearls to the teeth, the tongue must taste to craven derive a signature … their tale hidden porous pears gritty grain which begs eyes to hunger … blind thirst the palms seek by damp cavern wall chains of sweating vapor glow … we follow the beating heart echo corridors claiming the sand in our sandal soles … pen or brush we seek passage through doorways the mind laid brick foundation for …melody of the psyche sublime sconce illumination unlocking hidden havens … the journey taken in quest of self expression, soul in flight upon winged words to prolong life and make one feel young.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Photo Credit: https://www.yahoo.com/style/nicola-griffins-lingerie-shoot-slink-172600630.html

NaPoWriMo 2016 #11

{off prompt}

Blue Ruffle Iris

Rains bide their illusory pact with tidal chains … the moon commands to quench the parch pink softness of petals … praying in silent destinations dust originated from … and will scurry back to … when shown buds in dire need … of a morning shower … even a thunderous violent storm … carrying enough atmosphere the weather vein turns … South in shy exclamation … I am thirsty, nay hungry, for your mouth … for the experience of knowing you.

© 2016 cdd All Right Reserved
Photo Credit © 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved