SPEAKING TRUTH OUT LOUD


 

adams mout hurrican

A stone settleS in my throat

from the long ago of

when children were seen

Not to be heard

Sitting around the Thanksgiving

table of abundance and belly full.

All the voices to be heard took

the air out of the room

We found our breath

in the light of the Kitchen away from

the weight of stories of futures

that had no relevance to our playground

of untapped dreams and magic.

~

We were but the reflection

of Family’s prayers and hopes

in the right to story us as they deemed fit

into what they could never be only

in their hopes and dreams.

and how the should of us

got should on.

~

The stone became a river pebble

as years came in to self awakening,

in the wandering and the wondering

where truth could flow and be shared

and the myth of who should be what

and who should be where in the familial

continuum container.

It came slow to dissolve

into the intent of self-resolve.

The claiming proclamation of;

I am not that story you gave me

I am not that silenced voice of your making

I am a voice rising in my fullness.

I am All that I am and you can not should me.

~

The stone is a clear crystal amplification

of  Sovereignty Out loud in the Queendom of self

The illuminated voice of chanting in union with Love

and the proclamation of fearless intent to Be heard

in the Complex ease and hard softness of claiming

all and every word that needs saying.

~

I amplify in the Stillness of All that I am

I am a crystal clear voice of paradox

I am Sacred in all my Creative forms

I am she Who Speaks her truth Out Loud.

 

 

~~~

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Filed under a poem a day. Michigan poet, Geezer Girl, jeanne adwani, Jeanne Beauchamp, MICHIGAN POET, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month

The Separation of Things… saving the world.


CROSSES TWIRLLED

 

Separation pulls apart our togetherness

Divides the tender Oneness of us

Makes cruel havoc of who is in the right

to wipe out who must be wrong

In that myopic celebration

All dressed in the fineness rightness

Strutting the lies of perception

~

Separation cheats us of unity

~

How closed the mind becomes in

A one belief held tightly wrapped

In clear assured pronouncements

Hearing others without Listening.

Speaking the expletive of limited thinking

Chests puffed up with words full of spike and bitter

Making Wrong someone else’s right.

~

Separation has no place for forgiveness

~

And worse still is the Heart that forgot to feel

The heart that holds the quiet voice of tender

The quiet voice of love unconditional

The ever present willingness to forgive

To hear the call to compassion and togetherness

How we all beat together in the blood, bones and

Sinew of our likeness and our differences?

~

Separation is the ego’s dive into self-righteousness

~

Can we meet in the in-between of light and shadow

Recognize our self in the Other, to truly feel and see

How all of us are here, breathing, living,

Struggling, laughing, dying, mourning,

Being right, Being wrong, Being…

Celebrating the adjectives of life as we live it.

~

Separation is a destroyer of worlds

~

Can you dare to be wrong?

Can you give up your rightness to save the world?

 

~

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Filed under BE HERE NOW, Geezer Girl, jeanne adwani, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, SAVE THE WORLD, Uncategorized

FIRST STEPS


 

DSCN9124

Curious innocence goes wide eyed forward

Slow, searching for the familiar

Quick to stop. like a wild animal

catching a scent in the wind

or wolf eyes moving past the immediate

into the woods deep with a rustle

of leaves and the snap of a twig

Fear gives sway to return the

few steps taken from all she knows

in this forest that has her alone

Unaccompanied .

Her only friend an old pine tree

that whispers it’s branches in her ears

waves it spiky fullness over her new awareness

ripples it’s bark  to reassure her

Purrs like a kitten to comfort her.

It coos the story of where the sky

hums it’s bluest self, with the golden

orb flourishing the land beyond the woods

that is parted by the whimpering river

that babbles with the telling stones.

A stone  will lead you to the place of Others.

Take this branch as proof of me to you

and the staff that is of the Others

My roots run deep and with others

They will bring you there and back

and everywhere that needs going

in the to and from.

With the tingle of feet to earth

Earth to roots signals the way.

In the pivot and move

Caroline listens far for the whimper

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Filed under MICHIGAN POET, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, Uncategorized, YPSILANTI MICHIGAN

CHOSEN


 

white pine forest

What is it to be chosen?

Pulled through a portal rife

Same to same and different

Breath has returned steady

and the heart beats back to itself.

~

Eyes track slow left to right

noticing how a forest looks like a forest

And the sun dapples the green

in shadow and light.

Senses rush to meet the moment

in this awakening

~

With trees that smell like

sunrise and baked bread

and a sky that fills your nose

with the smell of mown grass

and sweet honey

~

Birds give their song to wings

That sing in the wind, tree to tree

A squirrel fills your mind with

forest talk of nuts and fruit and

that water is down that path

and just over the hill.

~

Innocence has no answers

to this same and different.

Leaning alone against

this old tree that purrs like a cat

and fills the shock with the tender

comfort of a mother’s lullaby.

~

Caroline pushes her body against

the tree letting the comforting resistance

pull her wobbly legs to a stand.

“That way” fills her mind and

the feel of bark pushes her forward.

~

~

~

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Filed under a poem a day. Michigan poet, MICHIGAN POET, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, Uncategorized

OTHERSIDE


DSCN0346

 

In the the tangle of roots and leaf

in the quiet of wood and bark

In the smell of pine and earth

Eyes fly wide open in a gasp

Life force resumes in the push

of breath ballooning lungs

with tingling cells in the rush

of blood from heart to head

From a slow to nothing return

Life racing, racing.

The restraint of wood and roots

ease with her steady heart beat

and the even flow of air to lungs.

What was before her eyes only

moments ago assure her

she is where she began in the so-it-seems

The Light hangs differently

Wind tickles her edges

and the silence has no voice

in the birds and scamper of

squirrels and rabbits.

“Mother, Mother. leaps from her lips

eyes darting in the familiar unfamiliar

The fine carriage and horses

nowhere to be seen,

No road, No human presence

The ocean sparkles in the distance.

Aloneness is a quiver inside rising.

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Filed under FANTASY, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, NATURE, Uncategorized

TAKEN


 

SHADOWTREE4

me n’ my shadow

Like stiff arms wanting

Rough bark pulls at my coat

It pulls at my leather boots

it pulls at my heavy silk dress

lacing the weave of roots around

my thin legs.

~

It pulls in a hungry way

Like me being soft food

melting into the roughness

Silencing the scream that

leafs into my mouth

full of green and twig

The choke of it fills me with new life,

in the absorb of ancient familiar

There is no fight. No flight

turning to wood, to root, to bark

~

In the distant call of a name

I know to be a dozen lifetimes ago

Eyes blurring in a cave of

squirrel and nuts

And in the scent of forest wood,

laid to mossy green on the spike

carpet of rusty needles

Pine to Earth meets to the  surrender

all that was once of me.

 

~~~~

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Filed under a poem a day. Michigan poet, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, Uncategorized

SHE JUMPS.


SHE JUMPS

There is no joke to the leap

A Fool

morgan greer deck

might you be laughing.

There is no seriousness to the leap

might you be glib

Maybe it is the jump into

what seems void and empty

that stirs and provokes

~

Maybe what can’t be seen

or held, or appears to not be able

to be stashed, or carried

In the tunic, the sash,

the tight fitting pants,

Or that tattered pouch on a stick

slung aimlessly over the shoulder

holding nothing but stones

and poetry , a sprig of love

and a twig of fear, the sound of

Eternity’s enchantment whispering

~

Might these hold you to the limited belief

that what needs having to leap into Life

Is not had for such emptiness

So much unknown-ness,

So much riskiness

So much fool hardiness

into the boundless void.

~

Ah, for the little dog called Loyal

Faithful innocence of joy and the moment

Instinctual knowing in the

Wisdom of Love unconditional

~

And she listen to the talisman pouch

as it whispers the certainty of what is unseen

in the infinite beyond.

It gives call to the Alchemical

process of the impossible mixed with the

improbable.

~

She Jumps

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Filed under APRIL FOOL, FOOL, Fool's journey, Uncategorized