Arrangements

I must pick a color, flower, song

For when I’m laid to rest;

For those among the living

Think I’ll care for how I’m dressed.

The mournful need direction, and

To believe the dead are pleased;

They’ll make arrangements fitting,

So their consciences are eased.

“It was just as she wanted,”

Is what they’ll say with pride,

But I’ll pick which color, flower, song

Their pleasure would provide.

(From the first volume of A Loop Around The Sun. )

Shameless (A Villanelle)

None of us are blameless.

All dance the villainelle,

And some of us are shameless.

Each creature, truly nameless,

Injured, sick or well,

None of us are blameless.

The fortunate are painless;

Shiny, dancing flappers, drinking...

Some of us are shameless.

Delightful fires, flameless,

Mistakes that fizzle, sinking...

None of us are blameless.

Like overcoming lameness,

Laugh at every threat of hell.

None of us are blameless.

Reject both cruelty and sameness,

As well as prude, judgmental thinking.

None of us are blameless -

And some of us are shameless.

International Relations

This twig will be my flag

This sky, my constitution.

The articles, my dress tag,

Each button, a resolution

And every dream, a theme

And every step, a statement

My whole life is the map,

And its border, its abatement.

Its lakes are all my curls and rings

Its rivers are my sleeping

Its mountains are my wrinkled sheets

State secrets, yarn I’m keeping

Houseplants are vast forests

The teapot spout, great falls.

Vast nations yet to be explored,

Neighbors, behind their walls.

( From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

Peaches

Peaches!

Oh, what a prize!

Each is

Made of sunrise.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 )

Ode to Pure Wisdom

By so few am I sought

That I don’t try to be elusive.

And if seeking, (as you ought)

But with pride, I am collusive.

I’m born a seed in every heart,

Not fed by praise, or schooling,

And I always have a home, (I hope)

In every judge's ruling.

I’m rare in youth, I grow with time,

I’m exercised in patience, and

To Tibetan mountain tops they climb,

Just to glimpse my poor relations.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, vol. 1)

Feels Like Fall

      Cool Air

And wind chimes,

              I kick through dry, golden leaves

                        Piled on the sidewalk.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1)

Let's hunker down for NaNoWriMo!

I'm slogging through the Scrivener tutorial. I have No Plot? No Problem! checked out from my local library. I'm well stocked on coffee. This should be fun. No better time than late October to start building a skeleton, eh? I just have to remember keep up with the writer's stretches. I'd hate to get a NaNoWriMo related injury ....

Pulled Muscle

Why surprise me so?

Connective tissue,

Sneaky and sadistic.

(From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1)

NaNoWriMo Badge, & A Poem About Architecture

Architecture

Shapes. All seem to have ninety degree angles.

I hunger for forms that aren’t squares, or rectangles...

Must be by design there’s no “abstract” complexity.

I have to be honest, Frank Lloyd Wright quite vexes me!

‘Modern’ should be ancient, organic, like Gehry
No fibonacci or nature in buildings, makes weary! 

Architects, change! Awake from your stupor.

Stop pulling your boxy ideas from your pooper.

Human Uni-Cycle Race of Karma

Brainstorming for NaNoWriMo is well underway. And now ....

From A Loop Around The Sun:

Human Uni-Cycle Race of Karma

Oh, feather of Ma’at, soul’s too damned fat.

Oh, crazy monkey,  you dance so funky.

Oh, artichoke heart, such a tiny little part

I need third eye drops. My ajna’s dunky.

My highest self is my inner wookie.

It’s a cosmic school, but I want to play hooky.

I drew a little fool and said “That, thou art.”

And my karmic wheel is a chocolate cookie.

My “speak-a-spell” is a joke, and spoke

Of  the gears on my cycle of time, that broke

On iTunes, I listen to the baktun chart

While chugging on a Vedic cherry coke.

So, when Orion is hanging upside-down, 

Zion is a booming gold-“mine” town, and

The Gemini twins tarot world apart

I use prayer cloth to polish my chakra crown

I once had a jaganath but I lost it, so 

I keep my ox-(Mc)Cart(ney) in my Lennon closet

‘Cuz Jesus and George, both “Hari’s son” are,

 And a Ring? O, infinite, nothing flaws it.

So, off I go and here I am

And Aleister Crowley’s on the Lam, and

Mother Hubbard and Jack Sprat went too far

Says the letter to Roman’s merry baby pram

So, read the pyramids by Braille!

And blow into the menhir’s sail

Asura nikandana, Rama dular!

I mistletoe the line with my crook and flail

At crops I have reaped, and which, now I sew

On the garments of enlightenment, with alchemy I know.

From each tiny grain of sand to each shining, distant star, Oh,

Like the mighty Anjanaya, I shrink, but then I grow.

Ferns and Spines

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

Ferns and Spines

Ferns. Spines.

Vertebrae and spores.

Curls and leaves and flanges,

Roots, stems and spinal cords.

Ferns made of bone

In the forests of the May,

Bones, green and supple,

In the bodies of the fey.

A Repost For A BFF (In my Imagine-nation)

A Response to your Alphabet

(for John Lennon)

Z is for Zimmerman, which we can plainly see

Y is for fork 

X is for Xee- xaw which we can plainly see

W is for Emily

V is for Vishnu

U is for you.

T is for intersection

S is for swerve as we can plainly see

R is for Paul

Q is for smoking as we can plainly see

P is for cannon

O is for Yoko

N is for San Francisco which has the crookedest street.

M is for Emily, who lives in San Francisco.

L  is for Dolly

J is for monkey

I is for icicle

H is for castle, which we can plainly see

G is for horse

F is for fork

E is  for binoculars, you’re right.

D is for dentist

C is for sushi. Not plastic.

B is for love.

A is for, A is for All the Above.

An Artist, Inspired

From A Loop Around the Sun, Vol. 1:

An Artist, Inspired 

Above his head, the sky opens

He has shown his heart, with portal eyes

Beneath his feet, the earth trembles

He has asked, and watches for replies

That come, welcome, and no surprise

As sure as ripening fruit

Just as textured, and with such a weight

A gift is pushed on through it

All, a word, a stroke, we anticipate

Without knowing we have been, and it was late.

I love short poems the best

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

A Brief Request To History’s Great Poets

Oh, don’t be so long winded, please,

You greats, whose works are so inspiring.

Words that weave and braid and tease,

Drag tight, wet knots that I find tiring.

Just make them dodge, and wave their banners, 

Colored ribbons, rippling, fragrant

But pity me, and mind your manners;

Some of them wear out their welcome, flagrant!

NaNoWriMo & Colored Lights

NaNoWriMo: I'm IN!! (I say that every October, but this year, I signed up.) It's very exciting, and I am fired up to do the prep. While you are patiently (THANK YOU) waiting for the serial blogging of the Blunderland sequel here, and for "Reprehensible Day," here is another tasty treat from my year-long poetry project, A Loop Around The Sun:

Ode To The Reflection Of Colored Lights On The Wall

Motionless, we pirouette,

Not clouds, but just as subtle.

We’ve glowing, wordless etiquette,

 Tints, vivid. Shadows puddle.

We blend; we are self - similar,

Not trying to be admired.

Two dimensions, yet calicular

Ungraspable glass, cold fired.

Ten Miles North

I love this one. I'll consider entering it in a poetry contest someday. From A Loop Around The Sun.

Ten Miles North

I remember, on the palace grounds of paper, finely 

lined,

Arcs of grass, small, bright birds, and a deep 

whirlpool to wind.

With a candle, in a floating tower,  I claim my liquid 

prize -

Fifth or fourth, I’m ten miles north;

I work, I’m alder size.

I remember, near the path of stars and formulas, I 

find

A silent quote, a wordless note, a lens that must be 

shined

With a gesture in my empty hand, I laugh to I realize

No smoke or sword defeats the hoard,

I work, I’m alder size.

NaNoWriMo

This may be the year.... (I say that every October.)
Stay tuned for info about an upcoming short story: Reprehensible Day.
Here's another poem from A Loop Around The Sun, Vol 1:

The Ablest 

Lightness, strength and fun and truth,

Innate wisdom born of youth.

Intelligence and confidence,

Knowing what they want from this,

The four of them, like beacons, shine ...

Then lose their way, these friends of mine.

"Stair Keys" Monday

From A Loop Around The Sun:

Stair Keys

They laid secrets on my soul

Los, I’m not stair keys, Dale. Lathe.

Secrets mean that we are old.

I had to do as I was told

I judge myself and buckle under

Then forget, look back and wonder

How it happened that I lost it

When I had it, baked and frosted

While consequences barely pricked ‘em 

When they laid it on the victim 

Los, I’m not stair keys, Dale. Lathe 

And for what they did, though I forgave

I’m still paying, though I focus

Elsewhere from their hocus pocus

The world’s afloat in it’s unfairness

In its keys and in their stairness

Los, I’m roof, I’m only feral

With  limes,  low and in my barrel 

We all buckle for survival

Press a knuckle to your eyeball

Press your head against your bible

Or whatever is your idol.

I know secrets.

A Two Verse Late-Night Delight

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

Shapes

The fog’s so thick, I barely make out shapes

Of memories, through other people’s eyes.

This life is but a shade of what it apes,

Its colors, dim and vague, although it tries.

I know life for a metaphor of more,

But the specifics are just so hard to pin down!

And that, of course, is just what it is for;

We miss the queen, so dazzled by the gown.

A Bright One....

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

Sun, brushing lilacs,

    Fortune my mornings gently, 

             And daffodil me.

The "Title Track" from the poetry book: A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1

A Loop Around The Sun

Look at her going, the blue one,

Braiding her loops ‘round the sun!

She’s dense and she squeezes the living

Into bodies, each life she is giving.

And she winds and dances and spins...

There are waves! There are stones, trees, and winds.

All who live and ride on her must eat,

And, so, taste of fear, learn defeat.

But there’s green and there’s gray and there’s rain.

There’s a bug on a leaf, and there’s grain.

She grows mountains of rock, she grows lakes;

She grows cactus, seahorses and snakes.

Look at her, tiny and turning

Look how all who live on her are learning.

No perspective on how they are one,

As they dance in a loop ‘round the sun.

A short one from ALATS, V1

Find A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 here.  (Blunderland, here.)

I apologize

To myself for everything

I let slip, unwise.

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

For Lyon (5 verses)

I couldn’t take a drink of tea today,

Past events were swirling in its depths.

They drew me into colors anyway,

In pictures only, not as if a guest.

But I saw us all and kept my vision true -

(In your name, for Tirzah, and Disorder)

A life so brief, yet from heights, such a view!

But fragile flesh is such a faulty mortar.

A time of lives that were a tangled knot

Of colored floss on stone at Clothos’ feet,

Added just what to tapestry they wrought,

When you and Anthropos’ blade came to meet?

Well done, to finish all your work so quick!

And thanks for what I can’t, exactly name.

Those moments, colors, strong, and deep and thick,

Stain my heart with honor, and remain.

Well done, to finish all you’re work so soon!

And thanks for what I can’t, exactly, name!

Those moments into part of me are hewn,

And stain my heart with honor, and remain.

I finished a short story last night. (A real shorty, at five pages!) You'll find it posted here when it's edited, hopefully tomorrow. Stay tuned!

Here's another from A Loop Around The Sun:

I escape at night

            To adventures and journeys

                                      That teach me myself.

Working on a short-story, "Reprehensible Day." More to come on this soon. "Fearless Reader" is still in possession of the Blunderland sequel, in progress. More to come on that soon, too. :)

Here's another from A Loop Around The Sun, Vol 1.  
(This one is a "Fearless Reader" fave, by the way!)

My Problem

I regret my own regression

When you ask me every question

To solve me like an equation

And assert your own persuasion

You don’t do it assist,

But you endlessly persist

To try to get to the bottom of me,

So that you can feel above me.

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1:

Peeking Out

When we lost the past, we lost the tree line

And we’re lost out in the open

With our gadgets, in our hurries

Oblivious. Just coping.

Distracted, from a pace

That would have horrified ancestors.

Veneer, shattered nostalgia

Worldwide, the present festers

And there really is no future,

And Johnny Rotten knew it.

His non-future is the present

That we could have saved, but blew it.

Sometimes it’s scarier to peek out of the rabbit hole.

Another from A Loop Around The Sun:

Squiggles

If events could be seen in their cycles in time,

They’d be scales of squiggles of fractals that rhyme

In a dance, the way trees in the wind move, to speak.

Although some events would, of course, stand out unique.

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1
(Scroll down ... four verses. An absolute favorite :)

Pimento! More Pie!

I will never again allow myself to feel humiliation,

Or feel enraged surprise at the behavior of my nation,

And I will try to be objective when my ego feels assaulted,

(Though the temple of my vanity is fragile, and high vaulted)

And I detach from corporal pleasures, whose conclusion is forgone;

On every single clock, I read ultima forsan,

But I live on.

So, the destroyers of the earth will nevermore inspire my ire.

And, though the greedy and ambitious press world deep in the mire,

Joy and pain, injustice, suffering, pride, are temporary, fleeting; 

This world is not the world, it’s just a book that we are reading.

Yes, the weak are prey and yes, the strong, more often cruel,  

But truth’s moment is eternal, and in the lotus hides a jewel, 

And fires cool.

We’re not our names, not our bodies, not our lives and not our stations.

We’re not our thoughts, righteous opinions, educations, situations...  

And those for whom this world is just a crucible of hurt,

And those for whom it is a trough of blood, and cash and dirt,

And we, those in the middle, who would help with half a chance,

Are insignificant to mighty Shiva’s dance.

We are the ants!

Eternity, immortal, extemporaneous 

In light, every one of us, a point of consciousness.

Everything that ever happens or has happened, happens now;

Time is the whole, vast field, not the line made by the plow.

And we, all of us deluded, play the roles we chose to try,

So let’s keep our sense of humor before we (change our clothing) die.

Pimento, more pie!

Initial feedback from "Fearless Reader" on the Blunderland sequel is positive! :)  This is very promising.

From A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1 :

Wandering, aimless,

My mind will find a

Path through all my opinions.

From A Loop Around The Sun:

Some days are opaque,

Like jade, or pearls, or pewter.

Some, translucent jewels.

I have delivered the "rough" first half of the Blunderland sequel unto "Fearless Reader," (Thanks, Trish) and will be making a decision soon regarding the serial posting of chapters here. From A Loop Around The Sun, in the meantime ....

Glass

The room, the time, what I have on,

Verbs and objects, grinding, hissing,

My underwater lexicon.

I know all this; what am I missing?

Face-value, truth, communication,

Puns, intended. Truth? Omitted.

Asleep, awake, checkpoint, way-station,

Silver.  Glass. 

Measured, 

Well fitted.

News: Re: Blunderland Sequel!

I am considering publishing the draft (what I have so far) of the Blunderland sequel here, in serial novel format, for fun and motivation purposes, as well as to blow you all away on a regular basis. Because I would love doing that.

As promised, here's another piece from A Loop Around The Sun, Vol. 1.  I like this one....

Little Buggers

Thoughts that swarm and sting me,

No peace do they bring me.

Seeking future is just fantasy,

And memory’s a disease to me.

I should have thoughts, but they molest me ...

Thoughts have me instead, and best me!

They buzz like a shorted cable,

And lap sugar from my table

Where I’ve spilled among the crumbs.

(When swarmed with thoughts, I am all thumbs,

And I’m all feet, and I’m all knees,

But I’m really not just these.

I’m much more, but I forget it,

When my chattering head has hid it.)

Where do the little buggers come from,

With their endless, buzzing hum?