Friday, October 7, 2016

Mahavatar Babaji: I am always with you / Hairakhan Babaji

Mahavatar Babaji: I am always with you / Hairakhan Babaji: "I am not here to convince you of anything.  I am not here to be recognized.  I am not a show, not an entertainment.  I ...

Mahavatar Babaji: Karma yoga message of Babaji

Mahavatar Babaji: Karma yoga message of Babaji: 9 January 1983 "All of you must learn to be disciplined. Be alert 24 hours a day. If you are not disciplined and idle your time a...

Blessed to be able to post from this site once again and share the wisdom and grace of Babaji with you today. Brightest Blessings, Lovelight

Friday, June 24, 2016

Puns and Punctuation

I used to come to the altar of offerings to bleed for you in single strands of my diluted blue blood punctuated elixirs ... finery frost and the web of maidenhair remembrances written on winds which slumbered while my heart made ready only that which would serve thee ... love was their carriage master ... It was in the winter nights I wandered ice ghost stone shell of a lover left in me ... East my feet blue as the vein untapped would creep ... to your window panes and brittle break upon their fragile pain as toe dance I would to see you pen ... bay tea and herb, parchments and hound ... yet, seldom was it you I found ... so in love with the moon you were that she had your gaze, your lips, the touch of that which goes beyond what most can bear or bare ... the pebbles I pelted upon our skull were never felt by your mortal core ... all the same you turned and smiled right through me ... 
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #18

The prompt today was to use a phrase from an instructional or informative manual of some sort. I chose "Earl Mindell's Herb Bible". The Chinese say of Ginseng, "... prolong life and make one feel young."
To speak a phrase strung for the elegance of finger tipped strands ... pearls to the teeth, the tongue must taste to craven derive a signature ... their tale hidden porous pears gritty grain which begs eyes to hunger ... blind thirst the palms seek by damp cavern wall chains of sweating vapor glow ... we follow the beating heart echo corridors claiming the sand in our sandal soles ... pen or brush we seek passage through doorways the mind laid brick foundation for ...melody of the psyche sublime sconce illumination unlocking hidden havens ... the journey taken in quest of self expression, soul in flight upon winged words to prolong life and make one feel young.
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Monday, April 18, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #17

images (9)
To be fair as Flora, she ... rose, orchid, or lady's slipper ... branching arms embrace with delicate stem ... mottled leaf greens, reach for a niche ... to raise my bundled bind ... slight tendril roots wrap ... and his entwine ... the flower one with the wooded mind ... to companion your sturdy tree ... moonlight madd love we shall devise ... sweet nectar kissing barked lips ... ... if my fragrance reaches thee with favour ...
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2016 #16

{off prompt} I loved the prompt today. I did not make it home in time to post to it. I will one day soon take it on :) So, I share with you what I was blessed with today.

images (27)
Longing for a peace with you drenched in the steam of a Paris night's fog ... taken over simpler notions I have held of life ... replace them with sea hag salt rimmed cobblestone dances to the music of violins and specter night columbines ... my toes catch ... glancing thrust and throw the red spins of a Tango ... the forgiveness is in our beloved ballet.
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2016 #15

The prompt tonight was to write on the subject of two or the other.
Between Your Curse and Mine
The bridge is burning between your curse and mine ... you said it was mutual, my dreams said otherwise ... Horus' claw tearing at my heart from it's magnet chamber ... as the Underworld fell crippling all about me ... gloss black glass and vacant flames ... as your absence remains ... you are not the disciple and I cannot allow Maat to weigh my hindrance as yet ... nor feed my flesh to the crocodiles ... though they sleep only to out wit me ... I shall walk the red hot coals to breathe your world's air ... trust me ... your dominion is not defined cask and cade ... beg a cause for peace and I will lend you my rope and spy glass ... the colorlessness of coming Winter will be here once more soon enough ... his Lord's prism and electric pride parade dancing on the edge of forever ... I will save you a seat beside the Queen ... if you will put out the fire.
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2016 #14

{off prompt}
1454625_634342436609043_570995081_nOpen and Close of Day
The sunrise is the hue of pink champagne this morning ... the blessed first light most favoured breaths taken of the day ... it's blush, chasing a thin ribbon of periwinkle towards the evacuating night ... the shyest whispers of The Phoenix's burnt orange and cinnabar tail feathers ... peak out into the ocean of space patiently awaiting for it's moment to eclipse the bladed grass' shadow dance ... a brief lived reign in which an eleventh atmospheric parallel remains ...  stolen from pain ... Now, as I sit resting at days near end ... the West has swallowed up the day's lantern ... lichen wash water of the subtlest green shadows ... hold court behind the paper cut wall off  trees and time ... the sky has chosen aquamarine for his duster ... and marble cake of violets kissing  coral  remains as his waking tea ... 'tis ever the fewest moments of hushing as the night's shield approaches ... he hides behind this ancient armor watching Venus awaken ... yawning in her sea spun gown of illusion to meet again  the suitors of evening tide ... spoken of as Everafter, this is a peace all may know ... closed eyes and a deep inhale ... the music of souls becomes unmistakable.
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2016 #13

The prompt tonight was to use a fortune cookie saying in some way in our poem. I keep all my fortunes in my purse. Odd little quirk of mine. This is one of my favorites, Punctuality is the politeness of kings and the duty of gentle people everywhere.
NaPoWriMo 2016 #13
2015 - 1 (2)
"Punctuality is the politeness of kings and the duty of gentle people everywhere. ", said Miss Ling, as she opened the door for her guest.
"Then I must be a king tonight." chortled Dishi, " Quite happy I wore my silk that is best!"
"Please," she motioned, "come inside. The dumplings are steaming and the rice is already fried."
"I am hungry !! " he exclaimed, then felt a little ashamed. "I miss dumplings since Mother died."
"You are our honored guest tonight, Dishi. I made your Mother's dumplings special for you." Miss Ling took his arm as he deftly offered.
In they strolled, friends rose in welcome, amidst candle light, aromas, and a table full of delicious coffers.
© 2016 cdd All Right Reserved

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #12

You can't tell by looking at her ... though the signs are beginning to show ... when she pauses in one place too long ... there is a mechanism of self acceptance ... the use to gather, grant, and capture on the face or in the eyes ... a haunting never seen there before ... "she had a look of thus and so" ... a patch slightly to the right and down a bit from her smile ... checkered promise of a wrinkle ... telling ten months from now ... that she didn't eat today either ... from the outside it all looks like blue jeans and suede boots ... comfort from the Goodwill reject piles ... a bright smile some claim is not her own ... and that crazy hippy wild child abandon ... if you can catch her riding red horses along the shoreline ... it all seems a little less sad ... for the children of light are running behind her ... urging her not to leave her begging bowl behind.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Monday, April 11, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #11

Rains bide their illusory pact with tidal chains ... the moon commands to quench the parch pink softness of petals ... praying in silent destinations dust originated from ... and will scurry back to ... when shown buds in dire need ... of a morning shower ... even a thunderous violent storm ... carrying enough atmosphere the weather vein turns ... South in shy exclamation ... I am thirsty, nay hungry, for your mouth ... for the experience of knowing you.

© 2016 cdd All Right Reserved

Photo Credit © 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2016 #10

The Pullet's Song
(off prompt)
The heart rushes at times ahead of its rhythms ... expanding beyond what oxygen can supply for salvation ... in these times, when the ache is so acute ... death is so near ... I listen for the pullet's song ... I heard it as a child, so sweet ... in the balm of the afternoon on Grandmother's farm ... the hens worrying about the yard ...  their peck and choose of bug or root ... falling into a muse of melodic solvents ... the innocence falling together in pure harmony ... I believe even the clouds stayed a moment ... suspended in a way uncommon to them ... listening to the simplicity of nature's music ... calling Spirit back to a heart with constancy once more it's own ... these brief moments ...touching the mystic beyond are gifts ... drifting through our lives ... as we attempt their capture in our butterfly nets of cellular memory.
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Saturday, April 9, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #9

In lavender moments, I may think upon you ... the calmness of my crystal countenance rattled and rang about a remembrance I once held ... yet, these clock ticking thumb dance mantras will fade to midnight blue ... thus, you shall remain, in my heart, the eclipse of potioned starlight ... I once believed you to be.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

For R

Friday, April 8, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #8

Let There Be Love

May the children in the morning rays,
Remember love will always stay,
In their hearts if they are gay,
As they grow not forgetting to play,
Let There Be Love.

May our brothers come together fast,
Building bonds of strength to last,
A creed defined across all caste,
Molded from the ghosts of visions past,
Let There Be Love.

Will sisters struggle arm in arm,
Heal at last and do no harm,
Beat the drum fighting back the swarm,
Grow hearts at home and fruit upon the farms,
Let There Be Love.

And when at end of day we rest,
Bring kindness, joy, and peace to test,
Care for Mother Earth's children best,
For We are seen and We are blessed,
Let There Be Love.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

This is my wish for you all today and every day. May we all be as One and May there be Love.

Thursday, April 7, 2016

(off prompt today)

Loosing Neo's Compass

Is loosing the belief in our own ability to transcend ...  the darkness in which we may force love to abide ... the greater lose felt as we witness ... our Self begin to pass through our own palms ... sands so parched for care and kisses now ... the oceans fear their request to be quenched ... lest the salts should harden as do hearts ... the grains never reaching landfall ... from between pressed and parted fingertips ... the breeze kidnapping their crystal core magnetic North ... carrying them home again ... we shall all return to Zion in the end ... or, accordingly, to the Hell of our own making ... would we choose a higher love having known this ? ... bound ourselves in the vows of watery devotion alone ? ... leaving trust behind in the armoury ? ... sacrificial lovers lips are the only truth we can sell ... to keep the condensation of lies from drowning us ... Are you dodging bullets yet, my darling, in your playtime black leather coat? ... Me? ... I am dancing to the endless silent beats of Zion's sleepless drums.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #6

NaPoWriMo 2016 #6

Sentient beings are starving on Earth tonight,
As the sun says, "Good night" to the moon,
The moon asks,"Good day?", the sun turns away,
"Too many were lost in the fray..."
The moon sadly witnesses what he had said,
Brother Sun then is off to his bed,
In Brazil street dogs are begging for bread,
In Africa too children ate poisonous grains,
In America dumpsters are raided for meals,
Long before the school day has begun,
Everywhere under the bridges they shared,
What the soup kitchens lovingly brought,
In the flop house, there wasn't a crumb,
In train stations coins in cups are sought,
To try to make it through one more cold night,
A hungry baby was left on a church step,
The money went in a needle instead,
Elderly shared a can with their dear pets,
It was all the food they could afford,
While stray cats wish for warmth and a dish,
They settle for anything they can kill instead,
Jane quit school to work the mean streets,
So little sister could go to Grade 9,
Dick drives a truck for the food pantry folks,
They were there for him when he was a boy,
Once again they came when his mother passed,
Soon Dick will have kids of his own,
Food is the one thing all of us need,
No matter where or how we're defined,
Reach out your hand to someone in need,
You'll be more thankful when you have to plead.

© 2016 cdd all Rights Reserved

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #5

Today's prompt was to incorporate names of heirloom seeds into our poems. Very clever.
NaPoWriMo2016 #5
All my thoughts of idealistic love,
have flown away with the Purple Dove,
Now, I seek a man who knows,
the worth of a garden and holeless gloves,
No fantasies of Silver Queens,
or Tequila Sunrise on the beach,
I long for a quiet Black Prince,
who'll kindly wash my hair and rinse,
I'll serve him fried Rat's Tails for breakfast,
Japanese Pie, and Lemon Drops too,
We'll love to garden our days away,
Selling berries and riverman stew,
On the porch we'll shell the Ojo de Cabras,
While our foul flock pecks the labyrinth,
He'd wear his Turk's Cap, me my Red Velvet Lipstick,
When to town we go to cut a jig rug,
But, when day is done, we cuddle up like bugs,
Welcoming sweet restfull sleep at our door,
"What can I give this happiness to repay?"
"Brazilian Starfish to light love evermore."

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Monday, April 4, 2016

NaPoWriMo #4

The Cruelest Month of All
Mankind, in all his glory, found it fit to define time ... to harness the blessed abandon grace, happening holds not the witness' wine ... with this his attempt to break the spirit of flow, as to bind it to reasonable heights ... declaring triumph over vast mountain peaks, some feat above ordinary minds ... he swallowed sound, clabbered chaos, indoctrinated the blind ... appointed gears, false hands, gold plate, and instrumental chimes ... to replace the cycle and rhythm of Mother Nature's mind ... 13 months he set forth to enslave, those he deemed to be lower class ... to serve, to rape, to plunder, to gash, the freedom of universal design ... in shackles and chains live man, woman, and child, their intellectual seasons now 4 by 3 ... to cause cellular holidays to be bred out of the beast ... forming worker hives and thought numb disease ... man is the cruelest to man you see, no matter what month it be ... a fabricated semblance, a mere slight, of all we were meant to be.
May we awaken once more ... moment by moment.
© 2016 cdd All Right Reserved

NaPoWriMo #3

Dearest Mr. Cohen,
I came to your music quite late in my life,
Pardon me, but this couldn't be helped,
I was born a little too late for my soul in nineteen sixty-four,
By this time in your life you had already seen,
The stitch, purpose, and the cosmic inseams,
What about life and why we use words,
Having been placed so strategically.
Yes, I am American born, wishing more understood,
The depth and compassion, you've given the world,
I guess it is true, as I've always been told,
I just have a flower girl's soul,
For my inner child knew, when first I heard you,
As a poet, as one of the wilde,
You spoke from my heart, so true.
I've listened, I've learned,
I've read and reviewed,
Studies your portrait a million times through,
Held the words you have offered,
The naked soul you shared often,
And, yes, I argue with God too. 
You kept it simple so much of the time,
No need to make burdens or bruise,
You made it so hard, you tore it apart,
Just for a reason to use up the glue,
You planted weeds and harvested flowers,
Boquets of glass, caskets for those who choose,
How we live at times, to merely taste the hues.
You've taught us of love's emaculate embrace,
Kissing war of the foot though with distaste,
To sing for our sister's freedom and grace,
Even though our counting beads are worn,
On hands stealing bread, feeding mouths of babes,
Your strong laughter lives in our pink hallways,
We shant ever forget your face.
You examined all our heros, and the heroins relaced, 
Immortalizing these fragile poets promise with your praise,
Others dared not walk that space for lack of courage spent,
You, Leonard, took the dark wood's path with lampless gallows,
For there is the greatest danger in lighting a smoke,
When your clothes are soaked in your truth and gasoline,
Opening all of the closets at once with no conical of refrain.
With Sharon you've breathed life into woman,
Glorifying She in the fullness of the Self,
In Her truest beauty, Her sins, Her nakedness, or your word gowns,
Tis how we find our compass all so often, music being all we have,
In the temple, in the bedroom, in the grass or flowing fountain,
The melody seeks the melody hands dancing passion's play to love,
This seeking ever draws us home in the end if we listen long enough.
To thank you overly, Mr. Cohen, for the songs and poetry,
I know that's not your particular style,
So, I'd like to say I am grateful, friend.
For your journey being such as it has been,
For your sharing, for your great smile, your diligence, and the quest,
The risk you took in searching so deeply, inside your wounded Self,
For Suzanne, Boogie Street, and Master Song, 
(to barely name a few) for every drop of yourself you gifted.
Carla Dawn
© cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo #2

The prompt today was to write a family portrait. I am attempting to stay the course.  :)
The names have been changed,
To protect the guilty,
Though no one can say,
Where the honors,
Are most deserved,
Family is love no matter,
The burdens to bear.
© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

Friday, April 1, 2016

NaPoWriMo #1

  Today's challenge was to write a lune. A lune is an English-language haiku consisting of a 5-3-5 syllable or word count, each using the structure of three lines.
NaPoWriMo #1 My Lunes
As the geese fly home,
All is still,
Save their guiding wings.
I chose to love you,
Now and then,
For time knows no sins.
Dip me slow,
In Hershey's Cocoa,
Thoughts so edible.

© 2016 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

Today we begin the month of poetic blossoming. Poets everywhere look forward to the challenge this month affords us. We are offered the opportunity to meet each day with a fresh new spirit and in turn share a spontaneous work with the world.
I encourage all non-participating readers to visit the National Poetry Writing Month's website at the following link.
All of the poet's web sites are listed on the NaPoWriMo 2016 page. Easy access is afforded to each. You may explore the best writers on the internet today.
A most Happy April to all of you. May your words flow and your potential be joyfully put to the test.
Bright Blessings,
Carla Dawn

Saturday, October 31, 2015

Happy Halloween

Merry Meet Everyone, Please excuse my long absence, I have been ill. I thank you all for your love energy and warm thoughts. I am on my way back. I look forward to catching up and making new connections going into the lovely Autumn and the New Year ahead. Love and Peace to you all.

To All Who are One in this Beautiful Sister and Brotherhood … Happy Halloween and May All Our Traditions and Souls Be Beloved and Blessed this and Every Night. Come, Greatest Peace, Come take our tiny hands to lead us to the Light We are seeking The Way as children seek this night’s sweets. It is our Divine Desire. Love each other and Lead A Way which will nurture … it is our purpose.

(Click pic for a musical treat)

Blessed Samhain Sabbat to Kith and Kin May the spirits find you kindly tonight and your New Year’s fire burn brightly in the halls of the All Father …

(Click pic for a musical treat)

Monday, August 31, 2015

Leonard Cohen Alexandra Leaving

Where do the human condition captured in this song go? 
Perhaps straying far from our souls. 
Be refreshed and drink from this well. Peace all. 

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Your Redemption An Utterance of Closure

Your Redemption
An Utterance of Closure

I had been to the trees since the break of day ... the mocking jay had come in a fit filled mid morning of my dreams ... to announce red ribbons had been tied to the thorns of the council trees at the bend of the river ... he had foretold such and thus I knew it to be true ... clear through to my spine ... with my scythe in hand, half empty of fear and half filled with the love I would need to carry you with me ... I rose and set out into the bitter morning just as the initial flaming splinter broke the horizon ... I spoke to Dawn's silence for us both ... my mossy eyes falling on the cardinal flags as I breached the cresting hills ... A heart too broken to feel the thorns ...  I disrobed and adorned my body with only your bright banners ... wading out into the icy waters ... searching for any cause to offer homage ... I invited the roaring current to carry your redemption home ...

#NaPoWriMo 22
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

You say I work too much ...

You say I work too much,
But I can't get enough work done,
To get me close to you,
There aren't enough hours in the day,
Or moments in the brief time we exchange,
To soak you up so I won't dry out,
So, I won't need to come for another drink of you,
I try to lasso the sun and stop it from setting,
Everyday it drags me down with it,
Into the night of I have to go now,
Tomorrow is coming,
There is not stopping it.
At least I know each day,
The light had to pass through you to get to me,
Can we at least share the moonlight?
#NaPoWriMo 21
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

Monday, April 20, 2015

Was I dreaming of the snails or were the snails dreaming of me?

Was I dreaming of the snails or were the snails dreaming of me?
It will be a long ordeal now... this arriving at the door of happiness ... silver has been sold for you, Mountain Man ... that would never have been gifted to another not even in death ... yours was the most sacred of trusts ... Do we heal from the inside out where the soul light stirs closest to the truth of our wounds ... or from the salves of the world's doing ? ... it is in joining that we heal ... it has always been ... the thirst for your mouth deeper still budding in the furrows of my heart song ... to be inundated by how we laughed at our human cleverness ... Tumble tossed key, locks scramble ordered before Alexander or Napoleon ... either yield the same solutions ... break us all by the years ... by the thousands and we will bow still and justly before the Law of the King of soul ... Lavender scented skin and the way my hair would have fallen about your face... when the world was lost Eleventh Universe electric slow ride ... Home ... you are my home ... dreams to awakening ... hope to tears ... and such blessed growth for which I am ever thankful ... yet, ... today, I remain homeless.

 #NaPoWriMo 20
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved
#NaPoWriMo,#Oneness,#Poetry,#Utterances,Growth, Lost Love, Love,Missing Someone

Sunday, April 19, 2015

The mosses are thick with Spring's coming ...

The mosses are thick with Spring's coming ... they horde themselves in great colonies along the ridges of the exposed quartz veins near the western wall ... to the great forest they abide within they are a diminutive aspect ... yet their canopy harbors a world only a changeling holds the riddle tongue to ... nearby blooms a hillside spread of Aud Man's Bells spread out just shy of a phaery's foot apart ... and as far as one's eyes can see ... neon purple nodding nectar fountains ... their blue eyed blossoms hanging heavy with the first feast for the army of Bumble Bees since last fall ... they are amassed around the perimeter of the great circle surrounded with wild bleeding hearts ... Dutchman's Britches ... the pink of infancy still upon them ... the Queen butterfly passes by in pairs pausing to sip from the flower fountains before being on her way ...
#NaPoWriMo 19
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved
#Grandmothers, #NaPoWriMo,#NaturePreservation, #Poetry,#Sacred,Honoring All

My Day 18

My Day 18 ... I apologize for not keeping all of you good people read. I will catch up as soon as I can. My Grandma Hayes used to say, "When the leaves on the oak trees are as big as a mouses' ear, then you can take your leaves away from the plants and cinder blocks of the house. Before that and you'll kill all your lady bugs." She was so wise about these things. She grew a yard full of flowers that people from all around came to buy.
My folks grew up close in location, around Poplar Bluff, Missouri. I am thinking of Grandma, my mother's Mother today because my father is burying his brother Earl today.  Earl used to go over to Grandma's and help with all sort of things. He'd help Grandpa put up firewood from a tree they took down. Fix anything they might need. Stop in and check on them or just stop by for a visit.
The days of people being so close is gone. The world is so scattered and it seems we are all strangers to each other in many ways. I treasure my memories of Uncle Earl and how he used to tickle us silly, bring us cold watermelons, and teach us how to spit a mouth full of seeds, let us ride in the pig feed out to the back woods to feed the pigs so long ago. Grandma Dunlap still had chickens then and my those eggs were amazingly good on a cold morning.
He was a funny man and told the silliest jokes. Always said ,"You'all come back real soon and see us ok?" and he meant it. He will be missed and remembered as one of the kindest people I ever had the good fortune of meeting let alone having as my uncle.

#NaPoWriMo,#rights of passage,Missing Someone,Peace, Prayer


It was you, dark glint of Love's light, who asked to see my palm ... who read it , sight unseen, through the fiddle back fronds of forever after ... the razor edge of your finger nail slicing my fate line in two ... it bled like a fermented pomegranate eager to burst from it's rind ... becoming shell in the eons it had waited for you to sky blind seek and find me ... to love even at the risk of one's own life is to coin change purse the soul, my love ... Baba will only laugh as my coins tumble glinting in the noonday's sun ... gold, silver, and copper chiming the song of the universe on their dancing down the stairs ... "Truth, Love, and Simplicity " alone ... how could I have forgotten myself so easily ? ... to relinquish my vogel of protection and hand my wings to you tied with pretty ribbons ... the grey spade you gave me and requested I start digging ... I knew it was a grave even then, yet for whom? ... My Self or My Sister ... she has eyes who hold a hundred hollow horrors ... oh, the displeasure of being my sister's keeper ... either way we are un~forgiven by you ... for not handing over the keys to some Verita's phantom maze ... I fall short of a feather gaining passage on your barge tonight ... Thus, I shall run with the dog men at the river come dusk ... and bleeding blue from the canker and the bramble dust ... sham shackle home to beat the dawn, to greet the dead in soul, in heart, and in dread.
#NaPoWriMo 17
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved
#NaPoWriMo,#Poetry,#Utterances,BeingAuthentic,Compassion,FacingMyEgo,Honoring All,Hunger,LostLoveLove,LovingEnough,MirrorMirror,Missing Someone,NeverAgain,OwningMyLife,river,Service,Sorrow,SpiritualCompass,Spiritual Growth,WhereWildWomenDareToRun

My world is slight compared to how you see your's ...

My world is slight compared to how you see your's ... I don't use comparisons in this way ... I greet them at my cottage door as a color, or flavor, or newly discovered exotic scent ... perhaps teal vivid with the attitude of butter scotch ... the scent of birch branches kissing moonlight on the sly out beyond the edge of the meadow ... where Merlot velvet evening gloves were left by a rusty haired Siamese warrior woman ... this in her haste to join hre love tryst with the ghost of  a negro slave man ... haunting this woods for 100 years now ... with nothing more than his loving leisure to gift the female persuasion  with his manly pleasures ... I want to go find him when the wind blows hot in the summer time ... rain soaked thunder promises of storms peeking in their operatic orgasms ... it is then time is cryptically shy this side of ever lasting and he runs thus ... when the owls scatter widely hunting the breath of the night to bind his sanity to the iron of the oak ... he calls baldly to the pitching boughs ... " Awake, my love I have been imprisoned in a death dream of your doing, Come take me home with you that I might in the bed of caresses awaken to leave this assured madness to the moon " ... I long to rush into his arms of vaporous electro illusion and absorb the pain this spectrous prison has held him in ... spell bound and splintered ... the teal of night soaking us up into the star dangling carelessness the day could not abide ... in the day his haunts are only shadows upon my body ... black stained thought remains my inner thighs ask politely to be marked by ... creasing imperfections from my sound bite scent remains ... for the pleasure of your touch falls as the lily gathers to her a light rain ... innocent in the liking ... pure in love so grace grants me the same sweetness as a babe... and I find a softness in my own heart which eyes take a care to notice well ...
 #NaPoWriMo 16
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

It was in meeting you ...

It was in meeting you that my whole life began again ... It was in exploring your worth and your wealth I found myself once more ...  You are the mirror of my truth, you are the darkened hallway, and the candle of illumination ... my heart is warmed by you and it is you who causes my blood to run cold ... I dream through every night you lend me ... I dance across only your floors ... You are my lover, my enemy, my counsel, and my voice in the meadow ... the stars are limitless when in yours ships I sail ... and it is in your arms I will slumber when the morning calls me home to lay you down again and be at rest ...
 #NaPoWriMo 15
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

I am too thin as it is, my love, ...

I am too thin as it is, my love, ... yet you use your butterfly knife to cut me once again ... as if being rice paper sentiments blowing in a fortune cookie dream ... you found wrapped about the trunks of the heavy laden cherry blossoms ... on your way to Chinatown seeking for a paper doll replacement ... wasn't enough for you ... I am the wind's lover now ... and he will keep me for you ... until all time passes away...
#NaPoWriMo 14
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved
#NaPoWriMo,#Utterances,Cruelty,Disbelief,Dishonor, Lost Love, Missing Someone,Shame, Sorrow

Arriving with the rose buds of compassion ...

Arriving with the rose buds of compassion ... cradled to my breast to hold back my pain ... arms crossed, tongue flat to the roof of my mouth ... impulse darting about behind my eyes ... a blank ivory ballerina awaiting the baton ... the stage set with only the dust of humility ... the audience consisting of fifth row center ... You, God, and a Reserved Seat sign resting quietly ... to your surprise there is only one act to the performance ... you look to God, he locks his lips, throwing away the key ... turning to the Reserved Seat, you seek to no avail ... I descend from the stage after my dance, kiss you, and give you the roses ...
 #NaPoWriMo 13
  © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

The dit diddy datts of night's cool rains ...

The dit diddy datts of night's cool rains have only just begun to create their jazzy improvisations ... in sky lights streaking shaft hot tongues towards iron and copper Earth golems ... afternoon was blessed warm and the Sun met the lake with joyous play ... it was the eagles' first sighting of Floating Fox since the thaw of last winter's crystal coma ... his strength was apparent in both his ability to churn up the muddy bank and in the vibrancy of his colors ... he is now larger than any channel cat which dares swim in his school ... he is the master of these waters now ... they follow where he flows in reverence, not obedience ... the black of his koi legacy is far deeper ink than any of their native Mississippi ghost grey skins ... he is golden and marigold~orange with fire ... and to them, he must be surely be, the samurai fish come from legends told from the boat himself ...  Blue Ictalurus of the Small Waters ... he had witnessed such koi in the ancient spring pond ... from here his  father's fathers came... the old waters above the new born lake in which they all swam together now ... it was foretold one day an eagle would succeed in stealing Floating Fox from his spawn and spread ...  to this day not one mighty enough had come to bear a white head so fierce they could pierce the dragon scales of this other worldly warrior ... nor were they a match for him in mid air combat when the sharp talons of his whiskers stung them venomously ... and the beating of his mighty tail fins sent them into a downward spiraling  retreat ...
 #NaPoWriMo 12
 © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved
#Catfish,#Eagles,#EndangeredSpecies,#NaPoWriMo,#NaturePreservation,#Utterances,#Wuxia, Flying,Honoring All,Kung Fu,Mississippi River, Winter

The Turkey Vultures have ceased their claiming ...

The Turkey Vultures have ceased their claiming of the two dead oaks at the head of the spillway above the bog ... it is decisive now that the woodpeckers can have them by day ... the vultures will have dark dominion over them ... rain from the fields above becomes mouthfuls rushing lust to reach more if it's self ... joining into one as the growing swell and then hover inside ceasing stillness ... the heat of Summer's panting evaporates their clamor clinging to the thickness ... sludge dangles in pod lure moss wads ... once more to find their origins and revival tent freedoms in the rain ... On duty, the two gold sheen hunch back hand maidens, left as guardians ... welcomed my sight and occurrence as I rounded the bend to cross over to the far bank ... at the least fifty more will join them by night fall ... for the nearby barn has become too small to hold their committee and flourish ... for the moment, the pair maintains their hold spying me rounding the bend below them ... the pearl white of their beaks staunch against how brilliant a rose red  their wrinkled faces are in the falling light ... as I thank them for their blessings, their presence being most auspicious, the song of the frogs nearby halts to a sudden silence with my words ... It is comforting to know the wood is awakened again ... preparing for the revels in a few short nights ... Phoebe will soon again be swelling near to full breech of birthing brightness ... all will be well ... to know in the briefest of days our sweet children in snail and skink will be wrestling in the morning leaves ... hunting tender hosta shoots, moss and morsel, blossom and bulb ...
 #NaPoWriMo 11
© 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

If Not for Technology

It was in a dream somewhere I saw your face ... "like an ad in the old fashioned news", you'd say ... I watched you and read the posts on your page ... saw the pictures from your life ... listened to the tunes you would post ... I learned about what you did as a trade ... where you live, even saw the food that you ate ... One day I got bold and reposted a poem ... some whirling and twirling round something someone wrote ... truth is I forget the words or even the rhyme ... I just knew I couldn't waste any more time ... my heart was reaching inside of your walls, down the corridors, and hanging out in the halls ... I knocked on the door and when you opened it wide ... I fumbled and lost it and I dropped my pride ... I broke down and  choked up, yeah I spilled all the beans ... confessed and addressed and oh hell, I made a mess of everything ... too many phone conversations ... too many late nights burnt out ... so many things mistaken ... now we will never sort it out ... had our eyes met ... or we ever held hands ... had a simple good night kiss ... happened unplanned ... but things aren't done that way anymore ... there's no old fashioned love in store ... for dreamers like me who are caught in the belief ... if not for technology ... we might have been ... Mail Order Annie and her Handsome Dan.
 #NaPoWriMo 10
© 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

#NaPoWriMo,#Poetry,Growth, Loss,Lost Love, Love,Missing Someone,Owning My Mistakes,Regrets,ReOccuring Patterns, Self Witness,Sorrow,Spiritual Growth

Friday, April 10, 2015

It is most simple ...

It is most
simple and once more
the greatest test to be whole ...
a choice of who I am, from the time we are
born? ... the ever reaching ringlets of you and I ...
brushing each other's vibratory signature ... as fingerprints
in rain hand dancing blind ballets ... we will always arrive where we
began ... return to the doorway from which we entered this life ... nimbus
knelt and fetal felt in a womb wound humble grace ... spinning our childhood
charades crowned in laurels of dandelion chains ... these are the gold disks we
buy our fortunes with ... yet, we give ourselves to love one day ... silver circlets
on our fingers place ... for peace, for hope, for care's embrace ... through years
and lives the circles trace, enfold, include, and ever bring us back again ... our
Self, conception, spark and soul, the energy each light's breach holds ...
for we are born and made to last ... as ever love in a chamber of
another heart cast ... as you are mine, I am your's to be ...
Shall we ever encircle the love of We ... with all
the light we can bring to bear on
our life until our cirle
together shall
cease to be.
#NaPoWriMo 9
© 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved
My Circle elongated in translation :) Was to be a calligramme as to the Prompt for the day.