I dread the Godless world, all I will surely Know, where their trumpets blare, in misted air I will arise, aloft, atop, a lark in prayer, myself a prey, all praise is Hers dear Mother Earth, shake us, retch us from your gut, stomp we all to pieces, us bitches - us the sacrosanct, the un-mortified, the cosmic metaphysical cannibals among us who seek brunch from this aerie, this vantage, they're near- invisible specks below Listen! I am your life cc: CC '23
Category: Poetry
Where’s the ease?
For there’s the art.
cc: CC ‘23
Essence is first glimpse Time recalls her fragile spark Moondance on taut wire cc: CC '23
When I loved I was atop the world, yet when I was loved I felt beneath the pinnacle of she, the other, missing the unconditional, mistaking it for some pandering largesse, too self-absorbed when loved, but when loving, all-giving, selfless, timeless atop simple essential knowing To love and not to be loved in return is the greater of gifts cc: CC '23
There, taking form on the paper, was all it would ever be cc: CC '23
I remember remembering when I was younger things not so far beyond my grasp as now cc: CC ‘23
(It's a strange little world
filled with peculiar people,
strange little people, you see,
you meet, those you love you hold
onto in time, to hold just-in-time
to grasp the last of the fleeting...)
It's a tongue-twister world
in the springtime, summer
a roller-coaster splash into
golden leaves that leave us be
in snowfall
*
*
*
*
*
*
aflutter in powder-white down,
crystal air - clean bells - the cold smells
the warm heart
(...peculiar tiny people
lost on the mantle
the faded beat at the far edge)
cc: CC '2023
Todrawone mustsee cc: CC '2023
"Since we are three," I suggested, "...why not have a "suggestion box" to inform us and I will guarantee the anonymity of all contributions!" cc: CC '23
Over the generations, over the years, we mistake one person for another, traits that come around now and then, faces again as the old were when new yet different names and time, though somehow so familiar, and I don't care, for what does it matter the era I'm in, to each their own name slips, silver and mercury, beads, a blue in the maze all atilt and woven cc: CC '23
Alphabet City 