NaPoWriMo: Poetry For The Blood Flesh Bone And Spirit

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NaPoWriMo

Immortal Life

The Universe beckons with unlimited views, of endless possibilities, of impossible creativity

The Milky Way skitters about like a kitten, while I chat with Orion about deniable topics

I sing a new planet to life while dancing spirals around a tangerine moon

I embrace a tree that has soft pink fur and mint green fingers that hug me back tendril-ly

My body has infinite form. It is how I discovered you searching for me at just the right moment.

Just as I am immaculate in my divinity so are you in yours, together we are creators and destroyers.

Come, let’s dive into black holes to be born again and again like an eternal slip and slide

So that we can laugh with one another in the air of different worlds,

So that we can sing in languages so ancient they’ve not been invented yet

So we can make love under waterfalls of diamonds or daisies while clouds hold us aloft

Let every trouble we’ve ever known fall desolate and lonely into the darkness

Come, let’s join as one; dividing centuries with our offspring flourishing anew each season

Let’s burn rage to the ground, wash tears from our children’s eyes, breathe death to life, and fill our footprints with the petals of flowers that sprout into massive forests of lively discussion.

Let every wonder be a present of unlimited views, endless possibilities, and impossible creativity.

NaPoWriMo: I Made This Poem

The ending lines to this poem are not on this art. Diane Crump of Wyoming, MI is the only one who has the true and intended ending of this ditty.

The ending lines to this poem are not on this art. Diane Crump of Wyoming, MI is the only one who has the true and intended ending of this ditty.

The Dandelion Dress

I want a dress made out of dandelions

And a crown made out of stars

I want shoes the color of the Milky Way

To wear to a dance on Mars

I want hair the color of rainbows

And a song as warm as the sun

Come, take my hand, my friend

Come follow me to the fun!

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NaPoWriMo

NaPoWriMo: Creativity and Pain

I spent the night in the hospital last night while they ran all kinds of tests and suspected I was having a heart attack. I kept mulling the topic of the day, wondering what I should or could write about. My pain level when I arrived was at a high end 8, low 9. In other words, I couldn’t breathe to keep it in control, so my blood pressure went over the top. It occurred to me as I sat in the waiting room sure doom would arrive, I could just write about what I was dealing with at that moment. Pen in hand, I wrote the following poem.

NaPoWriMo

NaPoWriMo

Blood Brothers

The pain can only ease

if I am writing poetry

ink to paper thin

dripping words from within

using black and blue bruises

of Bic Crystal pens (my favorites)

The words tick-tock my memories

so I can live again

bloom within

shed my skin

lose to win–

–dows to the sleepless soul

with shades drawn against

the surprise war of the worlds

(Maybe we should toss confetti).

I fill the pages slowly with dragging foot

while my guts glow

radioactive

so attractive

I catch the eyes of ritzy doctors

worshiped nurses

wheelchair parking

and abandoned purses.

I use these words

to forgiv(e)ncourage me

for everything I couldn’t/wouldn’t be

Every day I was too blind to see

That pain can only ease

only ease

if I am writing poetry

Winter Daisy

My dear friend Miss Sharon Crane gifted me with a little solar powered daisy that dances in the sunlight. I put it in the window that I stare out when I’m writing. All day long, each time the movement catches my eye, it’s made me smile. I wrote a short little poem about it.

Miss Sharon Crane's gift to me brightened my winter scenery.

Miss Sharon Crane’s gift to me brightened my winter scenery.

Pirates in your cabinets

Slut Walk 2011 Costume

Slut Walk 2011 Costume

I admit that I am an explorer of other people’s homes.

A pirate seeking buried treasure that’s right beneath their nose.

I like to admire the stained glass lamp that has a shade with fringe.

I like to see the beauty beneath the cobwebs and the dim.

I like to use the bathroom and see the colors of your towels

I won’t rhyme this line unless I can remove all the vowels

Wn’t rhym ths ln nlss cn rmv ll th vwls

May I peek into your medicine cabinet to see your secret life?

May I, with little poking ‘round, see what gives you strife?

Are you careful with your products all neatly lined up in a row?

Are you careless with your inventory like a freaking circus show?

Do you keep random things to surprise people like me?

Or do you hide that secret life in your secret menagerie?

Do you appreciate your happies when you look shiny to reflection?

Or do you begrudgingly criticize your imagined dereliction?

I reluctantly admit, that I’m an explorer of other people’s homes.

A pirate seeking buried treasure that’s right beneath their nose.

A quick lesson on feeling good about being you

Lady:   hi there, nice to meet you too, sounds interesting you talk about image

Mare Martell:   I do indeed. I’m very comfortable in my skin and several friends couldn’t figure out why. So I started by talking to them about how I do it. They invited me to talk to one of their groups and I get to talk about once ever 3 months or so. Qualify that. I’m 5’4″, 208lbs

Lady:   So what’s your secret to feeling good about yourself ?

Mare Martell:   Everybody else. I looked around me one day and realized that everybody around me was constantly talking badly of themselves and others. I’m too this or too that. I’m fat, I’m thin. My nose is too big. It bothered me. A Lot. Then I started to reflect on why I felt badly about my fat rolls and my…well mostly weight. No, that’s a lie. I hated my nose. I hated my butt. I hated my knees and I thought my upper arms were disproportionate. But then. I realized maybe it wasn’t the body at all. Maybe…

I started to look outside of myself at the humanity of others. Every person I meet has a dark secret. Every person I meet has had tragedies galore. I dig people from car accidents with bright vivid scars because they wear theirs on the outside. What if…what if those deep dark secrets we keep to ourselves for whatever reason, what if they were as visible as a car wreck scar?

What if we do it to ourselves to keep love from healing those corners that we hide under cobwebs? Just like that. Just seeing humanity in others and realizing they’re dealing with the same stuff in different packages and I was cured.

Lady:   Out in the light?

Mare Martell: Yes. We see through different eyes, but the stars still shines and the moon still wanes I see through my disguise. Naked as the day I was born. Running wild with my spirit streaking out behind me in lovely colors. It’s like…you are me. I am you.

Lady:    why don’t we want love to heal us

Mare Martell:    If you think of your deepest secret, the one you don’t even share with your best friend. If they knew…if they only knew what you did…It’s like the (sorry about this reference) Garden of Eden and feeling shame and wearing the leaf

Lady:   So when the spirit is strong it shines through the physical shell

Mare Martell:    Where else is it going to go?

The more love you give, the more comes. The more you share, the more is given. The more you see the beauty in yourself the more you see the beauty in others. It’s like…Man, I sound like a heavy duty hippy and I don’t even smoke!

But I’ve been trying this particular strain of my hypothesis for over a year and the changes in my life have been…wow

That’s the other cool part. It’s like getting on a train as it pulls out of the

Started out slow and bumpy, picked up and is now cruising. Take care of you. Peace

Fire Walkers

Come join in the dance of the Firewalkers

Come join in the song of the giving

Come join in the joy of the fearless talkers

Come join your hearts of the living

Once they were lost in pain and sorrow

Once they denied it, no joy to borrow

Once they’d forgotten who they were

Once they left for freedom unsure

Once they were nothing but frightened

Once they were hurting and raw

Once they were banished by self-induced exile

Once they were blind to what they saw

Once they rejected a healing touch

Once they gave in to what seemed too much

Once they refused of life to play a part

Once they closely guarded their jaded hearts.

We sing:

Come join in the dance of the Firewalkers

Come join in the song of the giving

Come join in the joy of the fearless talkers

Come join your hearts of the living

Once they were left broken and crying

Once they were deluged with the lying

Once they felt left out in the cold

Once they were rejected for being so bold

Once they were chastised for their thinking

Once they were left to their addictions and drinking

Once they refused the hand that was offered

Once they had drained all of false-love’s coffers

Once they’d gotten lost in the days

Once they felt overcharged and way underpaid

Once they found comfort in self destructive ways

Once they refused to kneel and pray.

Now they sing:

Come join in the dance of the Firewalkers

Come join in the song of the giving

Come join in the joy of the fearless talkers

Come join your hearts of the living

Now that freedom is here with you

Now we can help release pain from you

Come join in the dance of the Firewalkers

Come join in the song of the giving

Come join in the joy of the fearless talkers

Come join your hearts of the living

The wordless song

A Love Note

A Love Note

If I scatter my glittery mess on your shoes,

spewing peace and love like a good little muse,

you have two choices as far as I can tell,

you can sweep it aside or allow it to gel.

It’s hard to find darkness when you look to the light.

It’s hard to see peace when you’re ready to fight.

It’s hard to have compassion when you’ve become jaded.

It’s hard to see the colors when they’ve all become faded.

But.

If you listen to the sound of the grateful song,

you’ll remember the words and start singing along.

The joy you will feel as your heart catches fire

with the passion for living, loving and desire.

It will fill your bucket from bottom to top

with the world’s best laughter and the strangest of props.

Disappointment will become a thing of the past,

if you trust that the bad times, like the good times won’t last.

Grin at the absurdity presented each day,

wave at the jerks as they pass by your way.

Wish them the best as you let them slip by,

with a whistle on your lips and wink of your eye.

You’re the blessing they need if you don’t understand,

just be who you are wherever you may land.

 

THE VOCALIZED VERSION OF THE WORDLESS SONG

 

The Little Magician

This is me wearing my very stylish top hat. My stovepipe hat is taller and is one I wear with my super hero cape.

This is me wearing my very stylish top hat. My stovepipe hat is taller and is one I wear with my super hero cape.

When I start out in the morning of a day off, I’m never quite sure what I’ll end up wearing (other than my pj’s) at the end of the day. Today was no different. I started out in my black with pink pinstripe pants, a thin maroon waffle style long john shirt (long sleeve) with a brown shirt that has yellow letters declaring “I’m a Hugger” on the front with a picture of a bear. Around my neck I decided to wear my mini-harmonica necklace and my Chinese chime necklace so I’d have music all day long. Although I normally opt for a hat to wear, I instead bottomed off the outfit with some black and gray DC skater shoes that I got at the Salvation Army store for a quarter.

I showed up at the first event of the day which was an end of an era rummage sale reminiscent of the video game Skyrim’s Whiterun General Store proprietor, Belethor, who states with great creepiness, “Everything’s for sale! I’d sell my sister if I had one!” But seriously, they were selling everything. On the table I migrated to tidy and fix were all the Unitarian Universalist shirts left over from various events. They were nearly all children and youth sizes which I kept folding and arranging according to style. There were also some Halloween costumes which included a rather boring flapper’s dress, a sofa cover floral skirt, an adult’s clown costume with bells at the ankles and wrist but none on the hat, a child’s clown costume that looked as if it were as old as the church (1956), a stack of 10 sombreros (one of which was bright purple and traditional in decoration), a flattened witches hat, and a black graduation cap with the tassel that read 2006. SCORE!

I put on the cap and let the thick yellow tassel dangle around my face. It fit surprisingly well. After straightening a few other tables, I discovered a white beard (no mustache) with a working elastic string to hold it in place. On went the beard to add to my growing ensemble. I engaged people in conversations, helped them sort through the things we had left, moved 80 chairs to be moved from our soon to be absent church to the Ecumenical Storehouse (where the not so well off can get home furnishings (and those who lost homes to fires or the like) transport truck. I chatted it up with friends, rearranged merchandise and enjoyed the time. One of the ladies, an artist, Ms. Seely, found a pair of Harry Potter glasses which, surprisingly were wearable and didn’t give me a headache. I found a gold framed mirror to check my appearance and stared into the eyes of a professor wizard. It made me giggle.

I traveled from that event to the next wearing my new attire feeling incredibly lucky to be gifted with such oddities. When I arrived at the phone bank venue I was about to work, my friends didn’t recognize me until I spoke. That made my heart do flip-flops because these are people I work with on several important issues such as abortion rights and climate action. I removed the costume to demonstrate that I was ready to get down to business. Four pages of phone calls later, I was able to get the message out to about 35-40 Tennessee voters requesting their support if they didn’t already feel the same. When I left I felt accomplished as I redressed in my Professor’s costume. I drove home to collect my little dog and change attire.

When I go out to do public service, I like to wear my super hero cape that has the same Love Thy Neighbor logo on it as the shirt I shared yesterday. This one:

I wear the cape because I feel that when I’m doing community service (this time on behalf of Neighborhood Watch National Night Out), it is important to demonstrate in action, word, and mindfulness of others why you’re actually going there. I wear it as a reminder to myself that with great power comes great responsibility which I take, believe it or not, seriously. I don a top hat or a stovepipe hat in tribute to Honest Abe who is one of my favorite American heroes via his humanity. I feel strong and spiritually powerful when I wear the attire (plus, the cape was a birthday gift from a dear friend of mine named Max and was modified by another I adore Manderley). Yes, I would feel the same without the attire about myself and my actions, but it’s a physical manifestation for me, it harms nobody, brings delight and joy, and fills my spirit with even more loving feelings.

Because I was busy with volunteer work over the last couple of days, I haven’t been home to check social media very much. I missed the announcement that cancelled the dog costume parade. I was disappointed in that because Piggy was subjected to two coats of strawberry shampoo (I swear that stuff requires a spoon it smells so good) and a purple and pink striped sparkle collar with matching leash to show off her shiny blue coat. They weren’t going to let me in until I promised to hold Piggy and keep her away from the food booths. I complied.

I was just about to leave when a little girl in a pale blue dress, long blonde curls to her waist, and a pink balloon sword approached me with eyes wide.

“Do you do any magic tricks?” She asked me while swinging the sword around in the air.

“Well that’s a great question. Why wouldn’t I know a couple of magic tricks when I have an awesome hat like this?” I retort, more out loud than to her. I addressed her directly, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, I just like to wear top hats and super hero capes.” I felt really bad. Actually, that’s not accurate. I felt guilty. I rubbed Piggy behind the ears as if she were suddenly going to pull a rabbit out of my hat which she didn’t do.

“Well that’s okay.” She sighed with disappointment on her face for but a brief moment. “I can do a magic trick.” She declared.

“No kidding? What can you do?” As I looked down into her face, I saw her thinking rapid fire of a response.

She held up her balloon sword above her head. “I can turn this sword into a hat.”

“I don’t believe it. Will you show me?” She had me in the palm of her hand, the suspense was building in my guts as I wondered how in the world she’d pull off this impromptu show.

She wriggled the balloon sword around in her hands, trying to remember or trying to discover the secrets. With inspiration striking, she worked the “sword” tip into the handle and placed it on her head. “I now have a hat.” She declared with a grin.

If I wasn’t holding my little dog, I would have applauded. “That’s pretty impressive.” I chuckled, “I wouldn’t have thought of that.” I said as the balloon tip slipped out of the handle with a lightly audible pop sound. She grabbed the balloon sword and remade the hat, crowning herself once again.

“I can do another magic trick, you wanna see?” She asked taking the converted hat from her head.

“Sure. What else do you have in your bag of tricks.”

“I can turn this hat into an umbrella.” She twisted at the waist which made the hem of her dress flare out a bit. I glanced the crowd to see who else was watching but it seemed this was just a one woman show with an audience of two (Yes, I’m counting Piggy Suey).

“No kidding. Let’ see.” I watch fascinated as this seven-year old-ish girl starts pulling the balloon this way and that and ends up with a wad at one end which she proudly places over her head declaring it an umbrella. “Well I’ll be. That sure is an umbrella!”

“I told you I could do it.” She glowed with pride.

“You sure did. You’ve now taken a sword and transformed it into a hat. Then you took a hat and created an umbrella out of it. Do you know any other tricks?”

She paused, deep in thought. She tilted her head to the left listening to her guardian spirit that whispered giggling into her ear. The girl smiled with her new adult front teeth not at all looking out of place on her face. “Yes. I can make this umbrella into a flower.”

“No kidding? Wanna show me?” Piggy snorted with impatience as I stroked her neck near her shiny new collar. Piggy settled back into my arms and I was so intrigued with this little magician’s tricks I just HAD to see how the show concluded.

She nodded confidently and tugged at the wad until it was a looser wad but generally resembled a child’s drawing of a daisy.

“Hokey toot!” I declared with genuine appreciation. I listed off her accomplishments and as I stated each new creation she grinned widely nodding in agreement. “And here you came to me asking for magic when you already had it yourself!”

“I know!” She giggled. “I can do one more. I can make the sword sharp.”

I have no idea who this little girl was, but she was completely engaging. As I stood there in a room bustling with over 100 other people, I realized I was being given a far greater gift. I stayed for the finale. “Okay, let’s see how you do this.”

She pulled the balloon back into the shape of a sword and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she winked before she began to twist the tip of the “sword” into about a three inch ball. With a flourish that would make D’Artagnan proud, she thrust the sword forward, then slashed the sword with a backhand followed with one final riposte with the unsuspecting chair she’d attacked in earnest and her balloon popped.

She stood there with the pink former sword/hat/umbrella/flower/sharpened sword dangling dead in her hands. She looked more surprised than shocked or disappointed. She smiled at me. I smiled back.

“Thanks for the show. It was spectacular.” I tried to comfort her with my appreciation.

“I know it was.” She grinned, dropped the dead show on the ground and ran into the crowd.

I’m not sure, but I believe with all my heart, I created more magic by not knowing a magic trick than if I had been knowledgeable. I’m still grinning from ear to ear. I am indeed a blessed and lucky woman because I see the magic around me in every day people doing mundane things with such perfect humanity that it just makes my heart sing. Thank you little magic girl. May your magic always be in your hands.

The Blue Screen of Life

I’m resting my face in the comfortable bluish white glow of my laptop

Staring at the screen as my friends parade by with a wild array of emotions.

I see a link one has posted and I click to see what interests them

The pictures move me to wellies, but that’s not the only reason I weep.

You see, I’m grateful in my heart and spirit for so many things

That I can’t contain the joy, the peace, the beauty that is my soul song.

The band of merry-makers parades down my cheeks in a wild array of emotions

Displaying colors and words of excitement, glee, hope, and cherished gratitude.

I can carry my banner with the honor to my mother and dad whom I love dearly.

I can tip my top hat in celebration of those beautiful souls that orbit their light

With belief that the Universe knows, heeds, and believes back.

I wipe the tears away but my heart is so full, I keep leaking happies and joy.

If you hold out your hand and take mine. If you trust yourself to believe,

I can entrust a part of me to you and you to me that together we’ll go far as can be

And then we’ll jump even farther, travel the world of possibilities, explore new lands

Oh the stories of love and adventure we’ll bring home from the farthest reaches.

Which will only encourage others to parade around with their own banners

Declaring openly their wide array of emotions all born from the nurturing love of an idea.