Tag Archives: geezer wisdom

30 DAYS OF A FOOL’S JOURNEY day 1


National Poetry month 2017.   Day One…30 Days of the Fools Journey.

I am attempting to tell a poetry story in 30 days about the Fool.  Perhaps it is a bit foolish of me to attempt such a foolish excursion into poetry.  Join me and see.  comment if you will.  I’d like that.

  “““““

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Foolish lost her way

She gathered her hoard around her

Buried herself in Things and stuff

Enshrined herself in the useless

In the overcrowded full of emptiness

Idle chatter filled her brain

in the nowhere to go without it

~

She wore the appropriate lonely

and the thin heels of  sorrow.

The crowd pushed at her ghost

Another no-one clambering nowhere

Making that jump into life

Into a cube of artless monotony

~

Freedom cloistered around her

Spaciousness a grey gloom

She had forgotten the wild sea

She had forgotten how to shape shift

bird to sky,  naked paws on earth

She had forgotten the deep inhale

of Spring rain and green rising.

She had forgotten the caress of love

She had forgotten the rage of fear

She had forgotten her Joy

She had forgotten how to let go

And Jump

~

April is National Poetry Month … NaPoWriMo.  http://www.napowrimo.net/   30 day, 30 Poems.

Thanks for your visit.

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Filed under APRIL FOOL, NAPOWRIMO, Uncategorized

Do Not Enter…


This poem comes from a prompt of Jill Badonsky.    “Write to expose those things that need light to be shed upon them.”

What are those place within and around that have a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign on them?

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It wasn’t hard to push at that mind space

The sign, Do Not Enter, was a lazy drape over the frontal lobe

Almost like it was ready to slip right out my open mouth

With a sudden blurt, an uninhibited want to speak the hidden

How many times had it been readjusted perfectly to ward that off?

~

The mind was churning with want to expose

The  heart voice hoped to know better of it

The bubble and brew within the cranial housing

couldn’t hold the thoughts old and hungry for release

Readjusting the signs yet again hoping no one would knock

~

Hoping that what needed to fly out into the open

could be contained

a little longer,

a little longer

just a little longer.

~

Clarity’s want gave one hard pound on the bony surface

Took hold of that Do Not Enter sagging there

Flipped it off like a spider on a shoulder

Out rolled the hurt, the frustration,

The holding on for dear life.

~

It wasn’t meant to hurt the beloved traveling The Path

Only to speak to what drives the hurt

What lays waste to  dreams

What shudders and boils old fear

And here we are blistered, peeling pain off

~

Never was the want of clarity so unclear

There is no re-hanging the Do Not Enter

There is no taking back what needed saying

The sign fell and seethes in the pot of life’s letting go

Adding single drops of forgiveness to get it right again

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Filed under BETRAYAL, jill badonsky prompt, Love's lament, MICHIGAN POET, Resurrection, the craft of writing., WRITER'S PROMPT, Ypsilanti Poet

The Knit and Purl of it


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She was not that much younger or prettier

Time had had its way with the both of us.

Not in that cruel way that time can shrivel

and lay pain deep to the bone

More in the gradual way years give toll

to bodies active and hungry for life.

~

Side by side to the steady click of our needles

building the weave of knit and purl in steady lines

Finding the commonality in the unexpected line

of our lives in the school days in the same town

Siblings held to old friendships in the how did

we not know that.

~

Click click we build our chatter to who knows who

in the way back then, in the isn’t that wonderful.

Reminisce conjuring up all those decades ago

carrying us to retirement and medicare,

And those we knew almost together, bonding

in the simple knit and purl of making something

That lasts forever.

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Filed under KNITTING, Uncategorized

WE ARE NOT THE ONLY EXPERIMENT


“…We are not the only experiment”    Buckminster Fuller

This poem is from a prompt that invited me to choose a random quote and take the last few words of it and make it my own.

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We are not the only experiment.

We are The experiment torn from the heavens

of infinite possibilities to a finite moment

of existence in the experience of polar chaos.

Three dimensional duality reality

And it’s some other infinite Beings

reality show.

.

We are not the only experiment

laid to the Universal pertri-dish

of spinning galaxies in Milky Ways

of murky existence to see how humanoids

will get along in the radicalization of duality

In the dark and light of it all

In the rotational up and down and

all around of the Hokey Pokey

with all yourself in wether you wanted

in or out in this dance of Being-ness.

.

And it is all about the left and right

of you stepping into this Circle of Life

on this planet in it’s petri-dish we think is

floating out there in the vast somewhere

Not on that shelving unit that has no end

to it,  Of old men, agelessly ambling

down the corridor of infinite everything

eyeballing each piece of Infinity to

see if one of us can make this Earth

thing work.

.

Can we get along and survive?

Can we steward abundance ?

Can we Love unconditionally?

.

We ARE NOT the only experiment

In Infinity’s Infinite and we will find our

way Home sooner or later

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Filed under A Pilgrams Journey, a sacred life, ASCENSION, lesbian poet, LOVE, we are not the only experiment, YPSILANTI MICHIGAN

Haiku… The Calling… day 7 of NaPoWriMo


Wisconsin sky

Call came from the sky

Was heard in the everywhere

It filled us up blue

.

No clouds anywhere

Blue is a cool smooth talker

One cloud would have helped

.

Rain comes tomorrow

Waiting feels like forever

Close eyes keep breathing

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Filed under A pligrams journey, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, WRITER'S PROMPT

INTO THE WAKE OF DAY… an aubade


The invitation from the www.NaPoWriMo.net , Day 6, site is to write a ‘aubade’.  An aubade poem comes from those flirty French, and  is  a poem written about the break of day when lovers must part.   It has a lament about the parting of the shared night of love, or whatever the share might have been.  Only, that now, as the day rises, it is time to go.

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I am tangled in the sheet of you

Wrapped tight in the weave of night

Ornamented by where your lips

Found my unseen scars

.

I handpicked a star to light

The path of how your tongue

Found my moist vulnerability

My land quaked with yours

.

An now in the sliver crescent

Of Sun rising a whisper of

Goodbye unravels the braid of us

Curls the edges of departure

.

Around our naked night spent

And you take that thin silver

Thread left between us out

The door into the wake of day

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Filed under aubade, Love's lament, SPRING, the craft of writing., WRITER'S PROMPTS

RISING


GERMANY 130

In the cave dark and deep

Cold gives lies to what is thought lost

The heat of the heart was pulled

to the North where winter held her

Hostage to the frigid deceit

.

A flickered shiver of a flame

on a breath of a whisper of green

Takes in the inhale of Spring

remembering the call of the Sun

.

Pushing up from the dark and deep

On hands and knees crawling

on ancient bed rock out reaching

for the light.  Pulled to the east

with morning’s waking yawn

.

And you stand up tired of sleep

Tired of of the dark cold cave

Raising open arms like buds

unfolding to the Sun’s illumination

In the quick blind, on the first

inhale of life’s arousal back to yourself

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Filed under A pligrams journey, ASCENSION, Healing the soul. Out of the dark. Ascension, Resurrection, SPRING

In Salutation


me n' my shadow

me n’ my shadow

In salutation

An all hail wide open

A colourful unfolding to

the the wake up call, breathing

Being licked by the sun

and breeze.

Shivering to the gather

of grey soon to come

.

In salutation

An all hail wide open

to the moist refresh

toes tickle naked

on wet grass dancing

The body heaves a welcome

.

In salutation

An all hail wide open

So wide the earth pivots

a pirouette in polar shift

Of Northern to Southern

exposure calling in east and west

And you breathing It all in

like that first startle of wonder

When the myth of life tagged you

.

In salutation

In an all hail wide open

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Filed under AGING, APRIL FOOL, MAGICAL THINKING, michigan, national poetry month, SPIRITUAL, SPRING

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.

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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

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