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THE SKY HAS BEEN CRYING FOR DAYS


I 94 Outside of Chelsea, mi

I 94 Outside of Chelsea, mi

I 94 MICHIGAN

I 94 MICHIGAN

In my little part of the MidWest, it’s been raining and raining, and then raining some more.

There is so much goodness in the rain;  the way the thunder rolls right through you, energizing.

The way those clouds gather and grey in the vast turbulence, bursting with storm.

Rain is a desired want for so many places on the Earth.  It comes to some and not to others.

Like too much humidity in the summer that I really am not fond of, I hesitate to critique the rain’s giving.

And… I’m ready for the clouds to open to blue and the sun’s more tender touch to the earth.

I want a whisper of cool breeze all over me.

So… these are my poems for these rainy days…

~~~~~~~

The sky has been crying for days

Laid it’s flood all over the land

Surely those crocodile tears come

from a galactic belly laugh at us

fools held to gravities pull of the

Earth’s collaboration with the Heavens

~~~~~

A Pantoum…

The sky has been crying for days

Giving giant heaving belly laughs

Profound thunderous sobs of grief

Earth collaborates with the Heavens

Giant heaving belly laughs

When the world isn’t being comical

Earth collaborates with the Heavens

Seeking joy and goodness in the wherever

When the world isn’t being comical

When desperation, hunger, and war win

Seeking joy and goodness in the wherever

There is enough of everything for everyone

When desperation, hunger and war win

Profound, thunderous sobs of grief

There IS enough of everything for everyone

The sky has been crying for days

~~~~

HAIKU

The sky cries for days

Poems gather in the tearing

Flooding shares herself

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Filed under A Pilgrams Journey, a poem a day. Michigan poet, ANN ARBOR, BE HERE NOW, HAIKU, Iphone photos, Michigan rains, pantoum, rainy days

Yes against all Odds


Heart hand n mouth

A futile No rises to all that is Yes

When the battered down starves

The slow climb back to the good self

.

Such thirst for that dried cracked tongue

That has let silence erode life’s sweetness

Drained the landscape of the self, desert dry

.

If only the clouds could burst from

Eyes that lost their tears long ago

Despair took all the wet hope of Yes away

.

The river is not that far of a crawl

Let that last stir of Yes stand you tall

And run naked from the barren hostile

.

Of your doubt and terror that holds you

Hostage, make the relent a heart’s truth

Lay your Yes against fear’s hard No

.

Rises to the Yes that has always marked

The Champions highest quest

To the Grail that’s never been

.

Further away than right here

Close to the soul’s truth and

The promise of every moment

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Filed under A pligrams journey, Abbey of the arts., ANN ARBOR, ASCENSION, MICHIGAN POET, The soul knows

Haiku for these Days.


Wholy Grail.

Wholy Grail.

Make all your days Good

Each moment a resurrection

The Full moon rises

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, APRIL FOOL, BE HERE NOW, Blood MOON, full moon, MICHIGAN POET, Resurrection, SPRING

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.

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.

I give myself to the music, I am the music


 

Ludovico Einaudi, Pianist.

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

I give myself to the music
The tenderness fills me
rolls in caress over my body
I yearn for the home of it
with windows wide open
and the standing pine caught
to the breeze filling my inhale
Wide is the blue with the fluff
of scattered clouds that look like
starships calling me home

I didn’t want to let it give me tears
With the sprinkle of the spring rain
that can not be held back to nurture
the land finding my flower nearly ready
How many times I have bloomed in
these decades of living from tears laid
to my fertile land or when life opens
and pours down on me with such giving.
Of wishes and wants, desires, and magic
filled and not ever unfull-filling
no matter the harmony the keys tap
to this life giving rhythm

I give myself to the music to be the music
I am the dancing fingers to the ivory,
the taunt sing of the strings
the drummers heart beat
the pelt of rain on the roof
the blow of the horn in the fog
the string of bells caught to wind
the crack and split of the clouds pouring
I am the choir, the orchestra, the soloist
I give myself to the music
I am the music

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Filed under MAGICAL THINKING, MUSIC, SPIRITUAL, SPRING

Earth Day and The MilkyWay


Day 21… napowrimo… a day late…LOL

earth white

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

Earth wins in her natures

There is no crowding her

No boxing her in one way

or another

 

One day is not just hers

In the declaration of it

All Days are hers in

the facts of it

 

That Hallmark way of

Proclamation wants for

remembrance in a rush

of printed trees

 

And explicative on the

glory of recycled paper

and non-toxic inks

as some of us

 

Dance the tribal dance

of Earth wellness and

chant for the healing rains

and the end

 

To all that tarnishes

And rapes the beauty

And wonder of this Earth

that will always win

 

She makes generous

Our living on her in her seasons

She give us tremble and rage

because it is

 

How her nature needs

For her beginnings and endings

Her thrive in spite of us

Her thrive for

 

The Love of us who take

Forgetting the giving back

For it is in the giving

that all is received

 

For all the planets in perfect

Sync make sure of this

She is of their family

The MilkyWay wins

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under EARTH CHANGES, HEALTH AND WELLBEING, michigan, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, NATURE