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

Trees breathe in starlight… found language.


I stole the first line of this poem from the quote below.  “Trees breathe in starlight…”  I found it lovely and magical.  I don’t think I’m done writing about it yet.  And this little poem feels just right right now.

IMG_3297winter in michigan.  A hoarfrost.

Trees breathe in starlight

The shimmer of the Milky Way

A dance of constellations

A rhythmic pulse of night glitter

Pulled down and in

held in bark and limb

twig and leaf

Seed and stem

The inhale of constellations

from all that Infinite

goes to root

And the Earth

feeds on heavenly

Light

“You know why trees smell the way they do? Stars. Trees breathe in starlight year after year, and it goes deep into their bones. So when you cut a tree open, you smell a hundred years’ worth of light. Ancient starlight that took millions of years to reach earth. That’s why trees smell so beautiful and old.”

Frances O’Roark Dowell.

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, BE HERE NOW, EARTH CHANGES, found language, HAPPINESS, Hoar frost, Winter poem

5% of hard.


Because it seems the New Year ‘should’ start off with positive vibes and the joy of embracing what comes next, this poem,  maybe a bit unsettling, and it still holds to the possibility that there is 95% of joy waiting to be released.

The day/year did start hard.  For me, this welcomes the possibility of finding the soft, joyful edges, the willingness to notices insensitivities and the letting go of righteous surety.

In the dedication of this poem, I give it to the elements:  Fire to burn away what doesn’t serve,  Air to bring in a breeze of clarity and goodness, Earth to ground and center,  and Water, to sooth and wash away the old debilitating hurts of long ago.  Spirit comes to give the loving prayer.IMG_2870

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5% of hard lays a weary sigh
draped in grey judgments on
the passing of how morning
gave rupture to the new day
of a new year in an elongated
moment of fearfulness longing
to be held to heart and loved .

There is wonder in how the 95%
of pleasure and goodness
shuffles to the back of the heart
guarding the opening.
Of how self forgiveness trembles
in a fetal flop against old bones
cradling the sorrows repeat,
against the slow drip of
self inquiry’s harshness

Self defense gives no protection
When there is nothing ever to
defend in that self righteous
agrimony fueling insecurity.
Maybe not quite sensitive enough
to let the way of how she blows
and shivers out those fears
in awkward self suspension.

Of a damage so long ago
given and held in those cells
echoing a call to how you’re never
enough in the no matter what.
Struggling to be whole
To be more than 5% of something
hard that crawls over the 95% of something
soft and good to a lay a win on what is
so much less than the total of wonderful,
mighty, courageously full of joy.

May the new year heal
the hard hurt
May the new year unravel
the fearful heart
May the new year reveal
that you are enough
and loved

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Filed under BE HERE NOW, dease lake, New Year poetry resolutions.