Deep Swamp Blues

Secon’ Sight
Mamere call it to me,
one day on de way home
from chuch.

Dat ol’ Sissy Rains,
live down on de bayoo
outside town
could talk to
Spirits, dey sed.

Use’ta  sleep widdim,
had host’a chilluns,
white’n grey haints,
could see thru ’em,
as dey play’n nobody
talk to her
she be proud’n walkin’
thru de streets,
head high’n whisper lies
follow her on home.

In hush tones,
Mamere use’ta tell dem tales
o’ Voodoo Kings’n Queens
straight from ol’ Haiti,
livin’n lovin’ oe’er dem years
Octroon’n Quadroon balls
dreamin’a N’awlins’n big city lights,
livin’ for de night’o nights.

An’ dose tales’a
voodoo wimmins stealin’ chilluns
by night’n draggin’ em
kickin’n screamin’
into de black sky, ne’er to be seen
‘gin.

Dems ‘dem deep swamp blues,
Papaw use’ta call ’em,
de silent cry’o lost souls
mixed wit’ Caimon groans’n
de chatter’o Tooloulou n’ Wowaron.

C’est la vie, he use’ta say,
chucklin’n rockin’ on de porch,
his pipe jes’a smokin’n de twilight.

“Maise, p’tit boug, fais do-do”,
Mamere use’ta sing to me
dem long ‘go nights,
coffee’n cream skin’a hers
line’n wrinkle like bedsheets
floatin’ on de wind.

Mon dreams’o
black water’n white skies’n
dose mangrove cover wit’ chadron,
de sweet lap’o waves
‘gainst Papaw’s house
lullin’ we chilluns to sleep.

Pauvre Maman, defan Papa,
Mi aime jou.
Années passées,
from your sweet son,
to you, au revoir.

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The Space of my Contentedness

Using infrared images from NASA's Spitzer Spac...

Image via Wikipedia

The Space of my Contentedness blesses me.
Clarity of thought tests me.
Decisive Intent directs me.
Multifarious designs correct me.

Consciousness transcends. Being aware of choice makes life right. Right not opposed to wrong, just different; no better, no worse. Realizing that decisions made are thoughts manifest brings intent to the surface of a boiling cauldron of possibility.

One Earth, one life.
Entangled quanta streaming thru eternity to infinity.
Desperate emotions struggle.
Souls seared by life’s flames cry tears of hot mercury.

There is no love like a new love. Old loves languish. Making each moment new goads life into new paths, new decisions, renewed destiny. There is no love like an old love. New loves languish. Love exists. Eternal. Infinite.

There is nothing new under the sun. No words spoken in turn resist order divided by meaning squared. The sum of all equations equals everything and nothing both.

Collisions create anew, order birthed from chaos.
A gentle kiss is an affirmation of G-d.
Broken dreams defer judgment.
Art installed by soul’s desire soars.

Awaken wonder to life past desire. Subtle colorations of love meld seamlessly with hate. Dreams merge reality with fantasy, tandem lives superimposed, divided by night and day. Bringing joy into play, souls rise.

Happiness confirms pain’s necessity to me.

Silence echoes within me.
Lies of infinite sorrow pass through me.
Joy unbound unbinds me.

Reflecting on Forever’s Momentum …

Reflecting on Forever’s Momentum …

… driving time blindly into the future
reveals mimes as tarot-reading
diviners of mind and soul,
any street-corner rendition
the deepest morality tale of perdition
in mortal form,
a fool clowning for the crowd
the gods appeased by
inner cries screamed out loud
by broken minds and spoken souls,
living moment to moment
with hidden intentions and secret goals.

No one knows Self like ego
whose dedication to the
“Here we go again” syndrome
is infamous and intimate both,
speak low and don’t gather a crowd
too close, don’t boast, don’t roast a fool
and don’t toast to those who broke
the rules to reach the heights they sought;
dance with the one that brung you
and don’t smoke the drugs they brought,
fight the wars they fought
or love the way they’ve taught.

In other words, let time do that thing
that lets you soar on broken wings
filled with the light of inner sight
that tells you who you are and what
you want, despite the taunts of others
that haunt your dreams, still your aspirations
and dull your motivation to reach
that higher station,
that goal that you and only you can see,
that you and only you
can be …

… fly free at a moment’s whim
life’s not so grim.

Steal a second of pleasure’s time
to find that place and space
of the Divine.

Remind yourself of beauty whenever you can,
try to stand away from your life every day –
look away to seek within to find what lies
beneath the skin and connects you to
what is beyond sin, what is true
and lies beyond every clue
left by gods and men.

Pretend … that this moment,
right here right now, is

the End.

That time stops …

… flip flops and twists space

into another place beyond the

limited confines of your mind

and spirit soars …

… time’s grasp lessens and brilliance ensues,
peace enfolds perception and deception ceases,
motivations become clear and utter truth unleashes
the soul from experience and life no longer flies by

… life …

… simplifies.

The Earth and the Sky

Cloud-to-cloud lightning, Victoria, Australia

Image via Wikipedia

Many, many moons ago the Earth arose from her bed to meet her lover, the Sky.

The occasion of their date followed the auspicious rising of perfection in theSouth; a congregation of starry scenarios,in celebration of the upcoming celestialserenade.

Said scenario being the manifestation ofVenus rising, positioned between Mercuryand the Earths bed, scattered generouslywith lilac leaves and subtle sprays ofocean lily, dusted lightly by the tearsof the Angelic Hosts.

They agreed to rendezvous in theconstellation of Orion, where he promptlypresented her with a bouquet ofsupernovas; three, frosted cumulonimbusnebulae and a clutch of lightning boltsto help alleviate her backaches.

The Earth reciprocated by smiling daintily,opening an intimate chasm deep intoher interior and revealing her molten,nickel iron core, the brilliance of whichlit the Sky with an eternity ofelectromagnetic eminences.

Gold and silver highlights reflected hersmile upon his broad expanse, and he feltthe blue of his somber façade fading toblack, as evening fell.

Reinvigorated immeasurably, the Earthreturned to her garden, plying broadswathes of fertile till with raw ores andprecious metals, intent upon sowing herwild oats; thusly, she was reborn.

The Sky extended his girth across theentirety of eternity, his febrileimagination envisioning a perfection ofrussets and golds: highlighted sunscapesof lavender and the particulate remnantsof long-suffering volcanic outbursts,representative of important decisionsmade in haste.

That night was one of passionateremembrances as the Sky and Earthjoined, remaking Creation from Beginningto End: organic entities contemplatedconception, daring birth in search ofmacroversal meaning.

The fruit of their union was Life, born tobear witness to the perfection of MotherEarth and Father Sky.