On the Wrong Track


train on tracks

It all happens fast

The face of fear on those tracks

The choo choo outta sight in

The red pulse of flashing light

Eyes water a scarlett sky

In the horizon of pavement

`

Stop? Go? suspended in surreal

Reverse goes neutral, neutral goes no where

Half in, half out and the white gate lowers

Flashing red amps up the heart’s beat

Breath stops in urgent hope

This isn’t the track wanted

`

The tap tap of the white gate on the roof

Slam the car in drive

Slam the car in drive

Race for you life

Start breathing again

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THE ALL WRONG THINKS TO RIGHT ITself… a pantoum


I said to my friend the the other night in some jabber about life, “It sets me right and I do it wrong”.  I captured that little one-liner on to paper and thought that I’d take it and make a poem out of it.  This is that poem.  The think(g) is, is that I couldn’t use that line in it’s exactness.  As you see, I changed it.  I switched it around.  I didn’t at first.  I did start this Pantoum with it exactly as I said it, deciding as I came to closure with it that I needed to switch right and wrong around.  (what a concept)  Not for any poetic justice to the poem, more that I want to set wrong to right in a very personal sense, rather than the other way around.  I could feel it in my body my resistance to it all.  That purest point of view that rattles in the head about … ya, that right/wrong thing.

Tho’ right, like every other concept of belief around it, can be as wrong to another as the right can be, the relativity of it quirked me out.  So… here ya have it.  Go ahead and stick that original sentence in the first and last line and see what you feel/think about it.

Dscn0014

The All Wrong Thinks to Right Itself

I set me all wrong thinking to do it right

There in lives the story line of despairing thought

While the ego dances without a leg to stand on

Mythology makes wild all the untruths of perception

~~

There in lives the story line of despairing thought

Resistance shutters and spews against the chain hold mind warp

Mythology makes wild all the untruths of perception

There is nothing unknown to all that has always been known

~~

Resistance shutters and spews against the chain hold mind warp

Illusion gathers with greatness, feeding on every thought

There is nothing unknown to All that has always been known

The wake up call has the alarm set on constant chime

~~

Illusion gathers with greatness, feeding on every thought

The cradle rocks and rolls you back to sleepless dreaming

The wake up call has the alarm set on constant chime

Never believe that it is ever too late in the Infinite

~~

The cradle rocks and rolls you back to sleepless dreaming

While the ego dances without a leg to stand on

Never believe that it is ever too late in the Infinite

I set me all wrong thinking to do it right

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, ASCENSION, BE HERE NOW, EYES WIDE OPEN, found language, NAPOWRIMO, pantoum

Pantoum for Colliding Paradigms


Did Alice know?  Down the hole we go.  It’s not moving very slow… anymore.
Alice_in_wonderland01

COLLIDING PARADIGMS

A matrix of illusive illusions in call to kinship desires

Paradigms collide hoping for the win

Fear wants for the caress of love and safety

How the ease is made for these deceptions

Paradigms collide hoping for the win

Choices make way for diverse consequences

How the ease is made for these deceptions

“Only you can prevent forest fires”

Choices make way for diverse consequences

Power is not over other, it is within

“Only you can prevent forest fires”

Smokey the Bear modeled stewardship

Power is not over other, it is within

Stake your power to the Highest good

Smokey the Bear modeled stewardship

Your land needs your greatest care

Stake your power to the Highest Good

Fear wants for the caress of love and safety

Your land needs your greatest care

A matrix of illusive illusions in call to kinship desires

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Filed under ASCENSION, EARTH CHANGES, EYES WIDE OPEN, pantoum, WRITER'S PROMPTS, YPSILANTI MICHIGAN

Poems in the coffee shop: Conspicuous pronouncements.


It’s bitter cold here, -20F.  Not that that has anything to do with these poems I’m sharing, I wanted you to know that.  

Anyway,  I was with my journal, passing into one of my favorite local coffee shops, Mighty Good, in Ann Arbor for about 20 minutes before work.    I ordered a ‘Dirty’ Chai latte, (dirty is always preferred, filthy dirty would be better) and sat in one of two empty tables in the center of the room that was for 8 people rather than one.  I did feel conspicuous. What’s new and …Oh well.

I let myself peruse the room, without staring, trying to be non-invasive;  It seemed the right thing to do, even though I wanted to do some staring and scrutinizing.  Everyone was being very invested into their computer, tapping and scrolling away, mostly ignoring the rest of life around them.  Most everyone was single and alone at a table.

Other than me, there was only one other person not on the computer, and he was writing music; tapping his pencil ever so lightly on the table. He was with his wife.  How did I know she was his wife?  She was actively chatting to someone on the phone declaring him as her husband for some kind of bill they were figuring out.   He, lifting his head, with affirmative nods while she spoke, still tapping some soft rythmn.

These poems are what rolled out of me in those 20 minutes of being conspicuous.

poem mighty good

Finding ease in the shiver

The freeze grabs at the inhales

Pulling up the inner heat

Exhaling a quick warmth

soon to crystalize

A mask of breath

a suspended pause

held to the minus

A blur to the distances

falling like a light snow

~~~~

There’s no kidding

You never lost your

childhood flair

for knowing

It All.

Hard to believe

there is a limit

to All.

Perception has a way

of making the world

very small

I wonder if you

can even stand

in that little space

You call larger

than life.

Your life is so small.

~~~~~

I’m the only one of twenty

I’m not on my computer

I see him, writing music

composition of notes floating

in song across the paper

Music wins

~~~~

The notes of life

Sharp and flat

dissident

You could change

your tune

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, BE HERE NOW, CHARACTER STUDY, Uncategorized

writing for 45 minutes, 4 Feb 2015 A GIANT RAMBLe AbOuT aging.


IMG_6042

 

This is a bleary picture of me at my 67th birthday.  Bleary is good.  LOL.

Ok… here it goes.  this is what happens in 45 minutes when I sit to write.  little if no editing.

8:37

There is an age you reach where the thought of how many years you have left to live is something you decided you’re not going to consider.  There isn’t half as much left anymore.  Maybe not even a third as much.

Middle age has passed, even the “new middle age” has passed.  ( Who determined that anyway?) and the hope for a new middle age, if we live to 150, is unlikely.

How many years have ya left  if you’re over 60 and counting?  That’s right people over 60, not so many.  AND, it’s a good idea to get good with that, and not calculate to often out into the not-so-far decade away or so, cause that can roll you over on your back like bad dog and make you feel all kinds of vulnerable.

And, how about how time is going REALLY fast.  Wasn’t it just Christmas last week?  Is it only 6 weeks till Spring? Thank God for that.  It will be Spring tomorrow and you’ll wonder, “Didn’t winter fly by?”

I’m a Hairdresser/Artist. I look in a mirror all day long at you and me, watching myself and you age.  And… I’m going to work till my hands can’t move and I’m cutting myself more than your hair.  I know that sounds scary and grim.  And we both know that’s not gonna happen like that, right?

And, how can I imagine retirement?  I am not one that has embraced the journey of retirement in those traditional ways: saving, gathering, etc. etc.  I live to the full extent of my existence in the moment; saving little and celebrating  life moments as they present themselves.  Really, it’s all a gamble, and I have been called to the gamble of BE HERE NOW. (Thanks Ram Das)

When I get off the train of ‘Now’, a little bit of terror creeps in.  I hate terror.  Who likes it?  NO One.  That terror involves questions and sentences like this running through my head…

“What are you thinking? You have no retirement, no real extra cash, no children to buffer you, (I never wanted children, so that one isn’t really relevant).   You live by the seat of your pants and you’re getting old.  Your knees hurt, you got stuff that you can’t identify that comes and goes.  WHAT the fuck are you thinking you old geezer girl?  You’re gonna have to just drop dead one of these days and hope it doesn’t hurt too much and there is no lingering.  And that no one will have to coddle and fawn all over your dying pathetic body for too damn long.”

I let myself have these’s projections.  They happen more than I like to have them happen.  Then I look around as all that I have that I am grateful for, and let those pleasures and joys fill me up and push away the fear.  Future stuff has yet to happen and why linger there?  I have no idea.  Do YOU?  What good is it to fall prey to what we thing is going to happen as opposed to what is happening right now?  How can we make that good? WE have the power to change our attitude right now.

None of us get outta here alive in the physical sense of things for sure.  My spiritual path says I am an Infinite Being and Love is all there is. (Me and the Beatles are tight)   With that said, I’m having some trouble with this aging thing.  I do not wish to linger in the negative zones of that ‘thing’ as it creeps in to smother my good humor and well being.

Don’t think for one minute I am above having a good ol’ face lift.  It’s a respectable thing to do.  And we have the science and the Way to get looking younger, like how we feel inside.  I feel 30.  I do!  How about you?  And that face in my mirror is not a face of a 30 year old. NO it isn’t.  Graceful.  Nice one.  Gracefully aging.  I’m trying.  I am, I mean it.  And if I had the money to spare, I’d get a little nip n’ tuck.  I hope you still honor and respect me for these wants of mine.

My 45 minutes is almost up.  Thanks for listening.  You are kind.  Now you know a little more about me and how getting old sucks on some levels and is wondrous on others.

Here are the wonders.

I know a lot of shit.  And I have lots of wisdom

I’m still highly creative

I believe in magic.  I always have

I love my friends and family

I know I am loved deeply.

I am still learning things everyday

I love life

I think the Seasons are glorious even when I complain of too cold or too hot

The Earth is magical

I am a Mystery unfolding

I love feeling 30 inside this 67 year old body.

There is fabulousness in living in the moment.

I close with giving you a Haiku

~~~~~~~

Bringing in my Breath

Wonder and magic fills me

Dancing on the edge

9:22am

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Filed under AGING, BE HERE NOW, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, EYES WIDE OPEN, HAIKU, HEALTH AND WELLBEING, MAGICAL THINKING, WINTER.

KINDNESS… a pantoum


There is no ponder to an act of kindness

Kindness comes as it will like breathing

It is the only pathway to peace and love

A lay down of all that holds us to fear and resistance

 

Kindness comes as it will like breathing

There is never a time it doesn’t caress the heart

A lay down of all that holds us to fear and resistance

Choices lead to consequences

 

There is never a time it doesn’t caress the heart

Fear stains the heart’s beat with certain death

Choices lead to consequences

Sequences, like bad habits need adjusting

 

Fear stains the heart’s beat with certain death

In your defenselessness your safety lies

Sequences, like bad habits need adjusting

How will you adjust to Kindness’s call?

 

In your defenselessness your safety lies

It is the only pathway to peace and love

How will you adjust to Kindness’s call?

There is no ponder to an act of kindness

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Filed under EYES WIDE OPEN, GRATITUDE, HAPPINESS, LOVE, MAGICAL THINKING, michigan, pantoum, PEACE, TRUTH, WRITER'S PROMPT

SOLAR RETURN again… a haiku


DSCN1704

A Solar return

Age moves old on bones

Winter’s chill illuminates

 

Winter’s chill illuminates

Hail the days gone and to come

Deep freeze till Spring time

 

Deep freeze till Spring time

Seeds sleep in the winter nights

The silence holds peace

 

The silence holds peace

Rebel life gets in the way

Days slip to the wind

 

Days slip to the wind

Seeds sleep in the winter nights

A Solar return

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Filed under BE HERE NOW, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, MAGICAL THINKING, michigan, YPSILANTI MICHIGAN