A walk in the wild wood timber
When the leaves have all blown down
The wintery wind whips omens
Of the King who’s lost his crown
No longer sanctified or honored
Or otherwise enshrined
The gloom embraces obscurity
Elemental slumber consigned
Deep beneath the gloaming soil
The spark of life remains
Guided by the ancient ways
A labor of growing pains
For when the woods again awaken
And the leaves return to green
The King will once again be born
His life, again, be seen
Repost: Roots Dig Down
Revolution
The winds of change do not blow lightly
They are destructive, devastating, overwhelming
But they are necessary to create stronger; better
My feet are rooted in the mountain
My eyes are drinking in the sky
My arms are outstretched to embrace the shift
My thighs are heated for battle
My belly hungry for the crusade
My chest is bare, unafraid and unaffected
As I breathe in the promise of new dawn
I exhale revolution of heart and mind
Calling my sisters and brothers
As thunderous as a siren’s song
Into this life.
Into this body.
Into this time.
A flower
A sugar skull art box
I created this sugar skull art box using discards from a tobacco shop. Mirrored tiles and a framed piece of fairy art (not my own) add to the whimsy of this creation.
My nature
It is in my nature to return to nature
Nurturing my spiritual gifts
Reveling in loam and water
Allowing my soul to tendril
Deep into the rocky soil
Pulling the wisdom into my hands
Pushing out that which no longer serves
Light and dark are the same
Intuition singing a celestial choir
Feeling in my bones the pulsation
The undulation of the Universe
Welcoming the power that is mine
Acknowledging the sacrifices made
On my behalf before I was born
Into this life.
Into this body.
Into this time.
Behind the Blinders
To the face I did not know
The one whose name is clandestine
Spoken whispers, just below hearing
Your breath did not share my space
I never knew your laughter
Nor could I recognize your voice
Your eyes and mine have never met
But I grieve the loss of you.
The you were human, like me.
The you who had happiness and sorrow
The you who was quiet or loud
The you who was every bit as breathing as I am
The you who was every bit as worthy of love
The you who was every bit as alive
You were invaluable to the fabric of the Universe
I stand as witness that you existed
I attest to your right to dignity as a human being
May love now surround you with grace and mercy.
Song’s of Nation’s Pride (Again)
This poem was originally posted on April 16th, 2015 as part of a writing challenge. It seems to fit the mood I find myself in today. The day before the inauguration of Voldemort the Orange (my phrase) and his Plunder monkeys (Stephen King’s phrase).
I truly believed at my mother’s knee
That when I sang, “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”
The words I sang were truer than true
That if I bled for honor, it would be red, white, and blue.
But I’ve awakened to find a land divided
Bathed in disparity, desecration of what was once united.
I was taught at my Navy Veteran Daddy’s knee
That the Star Spangled Banner was to be honored deeply
That if I sang with truth in my heart
I’d stand united with my countrymen, never to part.
I believed in the land of the free, home of the brave
But I’ve awakened to find a land of the fee, home of the slaves.
I understood from my Grandparent’s legends
That America the Beautiful open armed beckoned
The words describing purple mountains and amber waves
Breathing life into the fruited plains of graves
But I’ve awakened to find a dying fracked rocky tops
Blackened drought plains laying desolate of crops
Where my family is from in Michigan The Rapids, la Grande
Makes me, all joking aside, a Yankee Doodle Dandy
Where the emblem of, the land I loved
Was supposed to be where there’s never a boast or brag
But I’ve awakened and I’ve found this only applies to non-fags
If you’re slightly brown skinned or poor, they turn you away
Ain’t nobody got time for that, they’ll remove you from society’s gray.
Love Showed Up
When I have been in darkest pain
Feeling I could not hope again
Love showed up.
When I felt lost and overwhelmed
Riding grief on a boat unhelmed
Love showed up.
When I’d thought my demon’s vanquished
But they roared to life, causing anguish
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my pain
But gently whispered, “Try again.”
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my trouble
It helped me to clean up the rubble
Love showed up.
It helped me navigate which way to travel
Clothing myself in threads unraveled
Love showed up.
Its compass pointed to my true north
Showing me how to sally forth
Love showed up.
It walked beside me on meandering paths
Teaching forgiveness for my past
Love showed up.
Widow’s Peak
She desires to be a widow
so bad that she can taste it
The casseroles and condolences
With open arms embraced it
She wears no widow’s weed
Nor tithed the widow’s Mite
With crocodile tears in her eyes
Their mourning her spotlight
When the flowers have all wilted
And the calls have all but eased
Will she then be grateful
That it was he deceased?
Note: This isn’t written about anyone in particular. It’s a what if.






