Geese once again
Echo and ascend
I can never tell
If they simply usher seasons
Or portend,
A warning bell
-a.r.
Photograph by Meredith Bell, DreamerFineArts on Etsy.com
Taking Flight
•October 1, 2014 • 2 CommentsThis Edge
•September 30, 2014 • Leave a CommentSupport
Like stepping-stones
Simply got me to this edge
My choice now to turn and hedge
Or jump, free fall, with fear and all
Into that descending mist
Disguised, and hissing
Gentle pools or jagged rocks below
Either way I choose to go
Embraced by soft splashing
Or quick-hit crunching
Fleshy floating, bone and stone
Either way this leap is mine
And I’ll be flying for a time
-a.r.
Painting: Oparkaa Waterfall by Linda Phelps
(reposted for my daughter and for her bravery today)
Muse
•September 29, 2014 • Leave a CommentA muse appears in many forms
From beautiful to beastly
The art we bear equally so
From hellish born to priestly
–a.r.
The Good and Evil Angels, by William Blake
Throwing Stones
•September 28, 2014 • 3 CommentsDropping of bombs and destruction of bones
Armies, and mobs, and the throwing of stones
Will not change with war or religious stagnation
But with power of mind opened through education
Blinding our eyes, sitting blissful in silence
Ignoring their plight is permission for violence
The screams of the helpless left dying alone
Those chickens up-roosted will visit our homes
Blood on our hands leaves us nothing but stains
Repeating our past drops us drowning in chains
Safia, Samira, Colleen, and the girls
Michael, Trayvon, and John, gone from our world
Dividing our dreams between us, us, and them
Ignoring the truth that the veil hangs so thin
Will keep some of us happy, and dumb, and to blame
While we slip off the precipice, smiling in vain
-A.R.
Painting: See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil by George Kocar
Spinning with the World
•September 27, 2014 • 2 CommentsI saw a string of spider’s silk
Sway in the morning sun
She must have worked all eve on it
Her work barely begun
She spun her web by shade of night
While cooler breezes blew
Her work destroyed by morning light
I wonder if she knew
Perhaps she’s spinning with the world
Sleeps full in daylight then
When hunger rises with the moon
She’ll weave her trap again
-a.r.
Painting: Spider by Moonlight by Matrix Meditations, Etsy.com
Season of (Re)Enchantment
•September 25, 2014 • Leave a CommentI am opening windows
Singing and clearing clutter
Saving space for possibility
I am dusting surfaces
Noticing the cobwebs
Letting life keep spinning
I am changing batteries
Dancing and lighting candles
Borrowing time for brewing
I am readying my rooms
Unpacking decorations
Leaving a place for magic
In the making
-a.r.
The Crystal Ball by John William Waterhouse
Because it is that time of year again.
Mindful In Tatters
•September 18, 2014 • 1 CommentSome part of me
Is always manic
Maniacally too much
Having some
But wanting more
It always costs me
Something
Balance of imbalance
I have found
No way around it
It is merely a matter
Of my reigning in
Which loose end
While the next is left
Mindfully in tatters
-a.r.
Bipolar by Dr. Taha H. Malasi
Psycho
•September 18, 2014 • 7 CommentsOpaque vinyl curtain that clings to me
When I step in the shower and try to get clean
Not quite as romantic as cotton or glass
I feel so Saran-wrapped when you stick to my ass
–a.r.
Reposted because this happens regularly and, to spite myself, I still react.
Morning Fertilizer Regrind
•September 17, 2014 • 2 CommentsThis morning
I shuffle still
Slightly In sleep
To that steaming
Bubbling altar
Of chemical awareness
My bedtime bun
Disheveled and askew
Imbalance tugging at
My heavy head
A leaning tower
Of convenience
Craving that first sip
But in my mouth
It turns to dirt
And gritty earth
Swallowing
With aversion
To the taste
Of mineral and tin
But maybe while
I dump this out
And grind away again
Some ingested seed
Will germinate and sprout
Crowding out the nausea
Of early morning doubt
– a.r.
A Mess
•September 15, 2014 • 8 CommentsI want
To be unruly
Unkempt and unyielding
Like my daughter’s hair
In the morning
A mess of matted tendrils
From sweat and tossing
Turning with fevered dreams
Nightmarish scenes
Unable to be straightened out
Or worked through without ripping
Some bit of screaming
Cursing the task at hand
“Damn you”
“Fuck you” even
Leave me alone
Let me be matted and messy
All parts of me tangled
With and caught in each other
Perhaps today
I will not untangle myself but leave
The strands of me in shambles
Smelling of tortured sleep
Looking like hell
And hurling defiance
At the world
-a.r.
Untitled painting by Jaclyn Conley
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