Tag Archives: Poetry

Confetti Storm

Posted on by

0

There’s a confetti storm coming;

Thought I should move.

Grab my umbrella and

Take off my shoes.

Polka-dotted clouds

Gather in the sky.

Out falls a swing

10 stories high.

 

 

Notes:  What can I say?  My mind comes up with stuff like this, and I find it written down in my journal (months ago).  Meanwhile, I’d totally forgotten about it until I saw it there a few nights ago and laughed.  It seems unfinished, so maybe more will come through sometime.  But for now, I leave you with the idea of a “confetti storm”–my kind of weather.

Magic

Posted on by

0

A dash of this,

A splash of that.

Pull a rabbit from my hat.

I wish you well–

Dreams coming true:

Everything you want there for you.

What a Mystery,

This great life–

Sometimes it soars, sometimes it bites.

I am happiest

When I remember

That magic comes when I surrender.

Found this little quirky creation on my computer today…

Wrote it probably 5 years ago.  The magic of surrender…

Aquarianism (aka Fluffy Stuffs)

Posted on by

0

~ ~ ~ ~ ~  ♡  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   ~ ~~ ~ ~   ~ ~ ~~ ~   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Down, down, down you go

Into your HEART, don’t ya know…

There you’ll find a point of connection

Where the world is linked in a magical nexus…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   ~ ~~ ~ ~   ~ ~ ~~ ~   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  ♡  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

I originally wrote this little poemette spontaneously on my Twitter feed a few years ago.  I just was scrolling through my old posts today, and I saw it.  I’d forgotten all about it!  It made me smile, so I thought I’d share it here on my poetry blog.  I’ve been blogging more in prose lately on my travel/lifestyle blog  “A Muse on the Loose” –weaving stories and snippets of wisdom and randomness about my gypsy philosophy, travel tips, lessons learned, and adventures.  But I do miss poetry.  I’ll get back to it more regularly soon.  

I am an astrologer, in addition to an artist, writer, and holistic physician/healer.  I am a Scorpio sun sign, but I have the planet Uranus conjunct (next to) the sun in my birth chart.  This makes me a very Aquarian Scorpio!  (Uranus rules and is thus strongly associated with the sign of Aquarius.)  Aquarian types love to bring through new ideas, humanitarian “love your neighbor” principles, a sense of freedom and individualism, and so on…  Connection, innovation, evolution, and oneness are big Aquarian themes.

I didn’t title this poem when I first wrote it, but when I re-read it, I thought (with a bit of a laugh), “There’s some Aquarian fluffy stuffs for ya…”  It’s all true though.  

We are connected.

The poem sounds very light and playful, but it’s actually about something really profound.

I personally do believe there is an etheric or energetic network linking us all.  And probably the heart is the central point of individual attachment to this grid.  The deeper we drop (or EXPAND) into the heart and into a sense of impersonal, non-specific love, the more transpersonal and connected we become (our focus shifts to the grid, rather than our bodies).  Love loses its individual dimensions and becomes generalized (it’s not about loving someone specific at that point, it’s about radiating and BEing LOVE itself).  Everyone can get there, I think, though it may take work (releasing blocks), practice, and intention…And sometimes we can only find that magic spot now and then…(such is the case for me).  But it’s worth looking for.  Regularly.  It’s the best place ever!

There, there is no I. Only LOVE.  What’s better than love?  Nothing.  And when love is everything, what have we got…?  UNITY.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Remembering Love …

Posted on by

0

Figment of my imagination–

Until I met you.

And then–

We danced a wild dream.

.

Open hearts collided.

Poetic visions united….

Fearlessly we witnessed

 Love’s song.

.

Days became weeks

And weeks turned to years.

The inside of my heart

Was called YOU.

.

Deep in the caverns

Of mind’s recesses

Old stories (of ME)

Disappeared.

.

Gradually, mysteriously…

Like the moon in her phases,

Eventually our nights

Became dark.

.

Time unbraided–

Wild hearts simply waited;

Yet LOVE, in her perfection,

Remained WHOLE.

.

Freedom is the teacher

Of this school, this course…

Her message to me was

Just LOVE…

.

Have gratitude for the journey.

Celebrate the memories…

Cherish the dances

You have done.

.

Love is the objective.

And also the answer.

It is the question

And also the SUN.

.

Attached to someone

Or  n o o n e

Love burns like a fire

That ultimately and truly is free.

.

It is okay to let go;

It is okay to still love…

Noone and someone

Are both Y O U.

.

This poem is, of course, about letting go of lost love–or more specifically letting go of possessive love in favor of universal love.  This is the gift all my experiences with love seem to give.  Love never has to die, it only has to evolve.  The lover and the beloved become one…

I wrote this about an important relationship in my life a few years ago for a poetry class I took at the University of Arizona but played with it a bit today …  as I continue to learn the humbling lessons of Love Alchemy.

Stormy Sunday

Posted on by

0

Simon you are

Like sunlight to me.

Penetrating, wild

And definitely free.

 

I love how you shine–

How you move and dance.

Together we’ve entered

A compelling trance.

 

But our love–it’s unstable,

A warm, stormy cloud…

Lightening and thunder

That’s deafeningly loud.

 

Together we SOAR

But also we dive.

It’s elating and painful.

There’s nowhere to hide.

 

I can’t trust my feelings

And just open to love.

It’s rocky…and wobbly,

Too confusing…I’m stuck.

 

I never thought I’d be

In such an unsteady state.

But what did I expect?

You mirror my face.

 

My true name is NISCHALA

Said a guru in the sky.

I must learn to live it–

Look fear in the eye.

 

“Steadiness, unwavering…”

This is who I am,

Said Satchidananda, the guru.

I can be it.  I can.

 

Hold tight to a fixed point,

And float in the abyss.

My heart is an anchor

When the dragon’s fire hits.

 

I always have a still point

Inside I can trust.

God is within me.

I do know this much.

 

My love is a light

So infinite and free.

If steady in myself

I am completed by me.

 

You are a gift, dear Simon

To show me once again

That the source of true love

Is inside my own skin.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

I don’t usually publish my more personal or “shadow-side” poems, but I realize by only offering the lighter side of myself, I am keeping my shadow in the darkness.  And one of my commitments, being the consciously evolving Scorpio that I am (or try to be), is to bring darkness to light and experience transformation through the depths.  I also really believe that creativity or the Muse can help us gain insights and heal parts of ourselves that are stuck or confused.  Writing poetry is one of the best ways I’ve found to work through difficult or painful situations and emotions.  Drawing or dancing can (also) really help, but there is a special power in words…Don’t you think?

Today a samurai.  Tomorrow a butterfly.  And so it goes…

Note:  Swami Satchidananda, the founder of Integral Yoga, gave me the spiritual name Nischala upon completion of my yoga teacher’s training certification in 2004.  The name was “channeled” for me through his principal lineage holder Swami Dyananda, as Satchidananda is no longer in the body.  Dyananda taught us that spiritual names can sometimes reflect the light and truth that we already are, but in other cases they reflect what we are destined to become through learning and growth.

Living up to this name has become a goal of my life…  OM OM.

Sasquatch?

Posted on by

0

“Who ate my apple?’

Was the first thing I said

When I woke up that morning

With camper’s head.

I’d put trash in a bag

Up in a tall tree

And in it an apple

Too mealy to eat.

At dawn, I awoke

And the whole bag was GONE!

No noise, mess, or snaggle–

Just a branch that was torn

Straight off the tree

As if it were twisted…

Could a bear do that?

If so, I’ve missed it…

Years as a camper

And never I’ve seen

A bear steal food

So neatly, so clean.

This job was perfect.

I pondered who’d done it.

Racoon, bear, or skunk…

Or Sasquatch?

        Dream on it….

 

(I wrote this poem a few months ago while thinking about the very curious experience {described in the poem} that I had on a 5 day solo “Vision Quest” in the Chiracahua mountains in Arizona several years ago.  I love a good MYSTERY!)