The Goddess Within
Burst forth
Category Archives: Observations
Commemoration
It seems so long ago since yesterday
when you grabbed your toast,
shined your sunshine smile through the clouds
and scooted out the door because you were late.
I followed you, halting at the doorway
You dropped your toast on the sidewalk
You cussed, waved, shouted “I love you”
got in your car and vanished.
I didn’t have police officers showing up at my door.
I didn’t have alarms screaming
I sat on the back porch watching the sunrise
with a hot cup of coffee in my hand
your words warming my heart.
“Hey, doesn’t he work at the Towers?”
called the neighbor over the fence.
I didn’t even realize they’d been talking to me.
“What? Oh, yes.”
“Why aren’t you watching the news?”
I didn’t understand. I thought it odd.
I waved with a friendly wrist making my way to
nothing
Cold pillow. Cold toast. Crystal blue sky.
gone
Gutting of commerce, ashes of hope, lost
It’s years later and it still seems so long ago since yesterday
But I’ve never forgotten your last words to me
Every morning I walk out to lay toast on the sidewalk
Every morning I sit on the back porch and drink coffee
Every morning I watch the news
Everything a sacrament commemorating your unintentional sacrifice.
Pass it onward!
Not as it appears
Peace on Earth
Love Thy Neighbor
You are merely a distraction
meant as a detraction
from the deep dissatisfaction
of a dying way of life.
The marionette strings you’re dancing
are pulled by those amassing
obscene amounts of financing
with your divisive strife
You are the sleight of hand
given up as sacrificial lamb
with back-room deals grandstand
back-stabbed by Judas’ knife
I am not to judge your place
or spit into your unwitting face
as you spout you’re in god’s holy grace
while playing at Lot’s wife
I hope that what you’re saved from
in total and in sum
bring you to a better place to rest your bum
with a small bit of advice
Matthew 22:36-40,
and although it may feel a tad bit warty,
is what Jesus said while commandment sortie,
Commanded not once, but twice.
Pass it onward!
Heading to Mars!
Martian Sunset by Mare Martell 2015
15X30
Acrylic on Board
FOR SALE!
The InSight mission to Mars is coming up on March 04, 2016 as a way to monitor and learn more about the surface of the planet. My husband Ben and I, he moreso than I, share a love for the space program and the many discoveries that are found. If you’d like to participate in a “trip to Mars”, send me all your money follow the link below to join others that believe in the power of exploration as well.
The deadline for signing up to have your name sent to mars is September 8th, 2015, so hop to it gumball! Here is the link to do that, RIGHT HERE! and below is a link to the picture of my “boarding pass.”
Pass it onward!
Inspired by Joel
I’m sure you’ve read some authors that really stick in your craw. Artists of the written word that cause you to think, cause you to get pissed, cause you, most of all, to feel that sense of uncomfortable that comes from a raw, exposed nerve. There are several of these talented people that float through my reader. Some I am avid fans of, others I take out in the dark of the moon and peruse with witchy thoughts abiding because they require, by default a place where the blood of their story can mingle with mine.
Joys of Joel is one of those artists for me. Joel lives in the Philippines. I’ve never met the person, but when I read the words, like those of Shawn L. Bird, E.I. Wong (really funny in a twisted way HAHA!), and UP!:::urban po’E.Tree(s), I am moved to places I’ve visited but, perhaps, took for granted.
In the latest poem (at this writing) by Joys of Joel, they write: Don’t wait for me; Ours is not a love story. (Find it HERE), I am compelled to remember lost loves of my own. I am to take that path rarely traveled. I mean, what’s done is done, right? Or what’s over is completed. But. It reminded me of a poem I wrote a while back which also reflected on a powerful moment in my life when I realized I’d just made a massive mistake. I knew I’d never again see that person though I treasured every moment I spent with them. It was my fault.
I’m re-sharing this “These Are My People” poem because of that line. You can find it here: The End.
Pass it onward!
We should not forget to love
Enough is enough
I don’t give a loaded poop chute about this piece of digestion. I want to know about the lives he took. I want to know their names so I never forget that his guns took their lives. I want to remember the victims because only then will real changes happen.
It’s easy to forget one person, but when you have to remember Sandy Hook, Chattanooga, Phoenix, Knoxville, ANYWHERE there are victims of murder because of guns; List the victims.
Trace their lives that led up to their fatal decision to go to school, church, the movies, or work. Let’s examine how they let it happen by putting themselves in harm’s way by living their lives.
Let’s examine what they were wearing. If they would have been wearing more orange would they not have been accidentally assumed to be a game animal? What is it going to take? This is freaking enough. It’s just no. Stop this already.
I’ve already written against this ridiculous glorification of the murderers HERE
Pass it onward!
Acroamatic
They leave offerings at her altar, never seeing past her face
They vie shamefully for her affections; peacocking their disgrace
Like a Mother Mary statue she abides their adoration
They, the faithful worshipers, fall scantily in prostration
She rarely extends her fruitful bliss, suffering their confusion,
When they realize her trinity is akin to holy communion
Pass it onward!
Home slice
Many closed doors
I arrived empty handed near my old stomping grounds
where I learned to hate myself due to disapproving frowns
It’s where I learned that to survive is to run freedom unbound
Yet here I am a-haunting my past which I’ve long since outgrown.
I have been with rings on my fingers and bells on my toes
I have been ground into dirt and from the grave rose
I’ve stepped through the portal, forsaking the spirit world
For now, I must reinvent this stronger, stranger home-town girl.
Pass it onward!
Dark Moon Reflections
Night time is a go
The midnight air is clamorous as crinkling cellophane.
The cranky crickets tick-tock in the grass with leggy chants.
The zz-zzt of the cicadas clamor boldly in jumbling rants.
The nearby expressway donates the rumble of trucks in lanes
trumpeting progress of deliveries unmet.
A flash of light shifts the shadows in the next room
as a car passes like a shooting star at the crossroad.
I open the door to feel the whispering kisses of the cooling air,
opened the windows to let in the songs of what’s out there.
The scent-dripping lilies stain the night
with mortuary perfume visited too often eons ago.
The click-clack of puppy toes traipsing laminate floor in the tone of wood
reinvent the solo of a long-hauler’s jake-brake slowing progress’ brood.
Barely audible, the neighbor’s open windows
bail laughter out in rapid chortles blended with giggles.
I smile as the humidity of their family
adds to the breath of life I’m inhaling with my senses.
Pass it onward!
Serenade of the trees
Wedgewood Park Afternoon
Through all my youth I didn’t learn the language of the trees
I couldn’t hear the words to the poetic songs they would sing for me
When I became still enough to listen to the music of the earth
I learned of transformation, regeneration, and rebirth.
What I didn’t know, while true to my childish indiscretions,
were the many truths I’d learned from them, the many rough hewn lessons.
My roots ran deeply through rocky soil, building bridges of emotional gaps
My branches raised up high with deep green leaves fed by spirit’s sap
I was taught the ancient tongues of the oak, elm, maple, birch,
embraced in laughing drumming beats the circumference of my worth
I am a child of the forests, although youth I can no longer claim
I will honor my tree kin’s body; their face; until the earth embraces me again.
