Sunday, December 29, 2013

Violet Ice

The hushed lack of sway.
in cedar boughs, 
above my circle swept,
Sits the owl,
attendant to the night,
song book of tales,
Sleeping ever deeper,
in wait for your arrival,
to my forest home,
Is my red rose heart,
patient as a whisper,
waiting to be born,
Beneath this violet ice,
Rosy and warm.

 © 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved

Monday, December 16, 2013

"Soul Caravan"


"Soul Caravan"

 © 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved

An excerpt from the book:


In Whispers of the Lantern Keeper
Rain consisting of rose petals the slightest blue tinge in hue... wished from the Heavens by you ... they melt into vapor as contact is made with your sacred skin ... seeping along the line of your lips your tongue reaching out to collect them, a thick liquor of angel's potion poured from a dream dared become Maya's blessing ... you out in the backyard standing in a circle of them ankle deep all around fragmented to vaporous wisps, buds riding on the syrup of each other along your back till they can find a bare patch of skin to make that electrifying mark arc and burst with a violet blue spark against the white grey pallor of the night ... stretching your throat back you open your mouth to receive them, I smile, they pile up about your eyelid and wash off in violet flames as if a God were commanding Elementals to dance in His reigns, your mouth bubbling with la bruja's purple dew, slipping sinew along neck meat awe tenderized sweet loin ... palms dancing demons, juggling fire flies ... shoulders pulsing, thighs rising to tighten when toes take a stance and calves burst into a cadence of some Underwordly music the Phaeries must be piping in the gardens about, only for your ears ... pink platters of wetter wadding shades splashing timeless orbits, rings for new Saturns and a Moon Venus is glad to bear out across the now thick blue blushed lawn ... How you discovered this I'll never know, yet, you've been out there for an hour now playing with them and I am on my third cup of Earl grey laying snuggled by your bathrobe in the window seat, watching you ... I am fascinated by the way you change everything into another state of consciousness interacting with it, I wait ... patiently not spoiling your fun yet, joining you... I long to discover what flavor you imagined those roses to be.

© 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved


It was Love ...
It was Love who scratched at my window screen last night wanting to know if perhaps my Devotion could come bathe with Her in the moonlight?

© 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved

Sweeping echoes ...
Sweeping echoes sound of all I can remember that day the plum trees refused to bloom from sorrow weeping petals, raining upon your bare feet

© 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved





"Speaking with Shadows"


"Speaking with Shadows"
 © 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved

 An excerpt from the book:


974, Still I Wonder

Looking out across afternoon rooftops from my corner room
The same window frame framing the same refrain I have sung before
Once again wondering and wandering those streets dirty black
Silken cocoa pods of skin once beneath my fingertips wrinkling
My mind tracing warm wanting paths pushed aside the clay
So you would not be tempted to forget my touch, my care.

"You always smell so damn good, Baby, 
Uhm, Uhm, Uhm ...
That's Right"

Still, I wonder where you are?

The same dogs have been howling hard cause they have cause
For hours are like years to them and 2012 is knocking Bad
On their garage shed doors fools with chains and bullets
Baby screaming in the alleys they know what's to come
And what's to become of them then ? and their babies
Most definitively worried... Council come to order !!!

"I'm in love with you Baby. You my girl !
I can’t say it no better than that.
You gonna marry me or not?"

Still, I wonder where you are?

An angry young man crosses my view on the broken sidewalk below
Diddy bop, Diddy bop, Diddy bop, through the mosaic grass tiles,
Appreciate who ever brought the Afro back the badge the honor
Wear it well swear it is your pride somewhere it takes us back
That ain't what Dwayne said No No No !!! Communicate !!!!
Rolls off his red hat he fades to be found dead deep in the night.

"You are a beautiful woman. So soft so feminine.
From your head to your toes. I love you.
I can't believe I can have you !"

Still, I wonder where you are?

The security light for the New Mission church's dumpster flicks on
Dusk draws ever nearer chimney sweeps returning for the season
Their lovely twits almost drowning out the couple screaming obscenities
Their hate poems moving to the back of my mind as the sweeps begin
Their mystical Sufi dance of mid air acrobatic death defying trust
Preparing for the dive into misty moonlight’s dark belonging

"I want you to meet my Mother.
And I want to meet your Mama
To meet the woman who made this woman."

Still, I wonder where you are?

The air grows cool against my bare arms causing a shiver
I hope you have your jacket knowing what a chill you take
When the evening air settles in around you and takes You !!!
It steals your heat away, your drive too, too often your clarity,
When you left you said you would be home tomorrow
And that, my love, was too many yesterdays ...

Ain’t nothing ever gonna come between you and me,
Feel your breathing, Baby?
Yeah, that’s the real thing !
Your mine and I’m yours.”

Still, I wonder where you are?

© 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved

Sunday, December 15, 2013

On a Fairer Shore




Can you forgive my silence?
... for I can only wait … wrapped close in cloaks of velvet you grew dreaming ... cloud lit from the silk skin of my shoulder ... your cheek wed last spring ... soft as bunny furs cried into on lonely winter fort nights ... the lamp oil all but wicked away completely by your memory …The sharing tears bitter Winter claims pause to crystallize … half way to my mouth's crescent crease … as if to give you time to arrive from the distance you have kept … and bear them witness, inviting their worth be seen … as stolen cherries shared crimson kissed … your hand cupping my warmth. The new fallen snow, lace of light and limb about … calls your names toward fairer shores … beyond this safe silence I've held vigil within … past the bloody trail of crooked stains … you cause … you crave … you seek ... when shards touch your veins … I bleed the same empathic drain … my robes soaked in purple language … now lavender on the white ground below … in my hand the words you seek … too horrible to loose from my blue bird lips.

 © 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved

Saturday, December 14, 2013

"Voice of the Grandmothers"




"Voice of the Grandmothers" 
© 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved




Excerpt from the book:

A Fool's Heart

Today I learned I have a fool's heart. They are purple by their very nature, being the exact colour of a violet's small face in the first light it meets at Summer's birth of her virgining sun. Yet, if by chance, this blossom forgets It's cares, as foolish hearts ofttimes do, the Moon's beams glancing across It's face in the dank cool hours collecting dew and Dawn, the blood red of hidden magenta flesh will expose It's slumbering beneath that flowery skin for all to witness. My wine weary cloister is lined in pure gold of the kind men dream and murder for owning, sterling workings for which they would sell a daughter's soul soon enough. Listen intently and you will hear the faintest whisper of It's call, the song It has been singing since it chose to formed in my Mother's womb which if discovered may give cause to roar ... "Do you know my Muse ? Do you know my Muse ?" It's rhythm that of a slow purposeful phantom of a steam engine some hundred or more years ago trudging in search of rest and the cool hope that comes from man finding answers to unanswerable quest or quenching a thirst he has no cure to hope to battle. As one more trek is made across the open range between the two mining tent cities cutting smoke salamanders into the bitter morning sky bright and weeping with the blood spilled at the feet of the majestic Sangre de Christo peaks above my meager cotton bed below soaked in Mother's sandy grass carpet. All I can do is roll over and know he won't be home for many days now since a new silver vein has been opened up above us in the face of the mountain. Now there is time for me to heal, to write, and to feel, become my Self once again.
© 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved

The Promise of Hazelnuts
The Hazel brush flowered two months ago while the rains could not be appeased to desist their torrential crying upon the Earth no matter how many appeals we made with last winter’s fruits nor the blood of our palms beneath full and the darkness of the moons alike. The rivers swelled far beyond any limits they were able to recall in their recent happenings. The creeks had all but disappeared from our recognition, from theirs as well. The autumn’s promised harvest is coming on now despite best efforts of Spring to explain her jealousy to Mother over the love tryst Winter and the Wind had partaken in while she slept peaceful and unaware below. What it is to be such a transient memory when you become each and every time into your own paradox … your own fated familiar prophetic happiness for sake of Earth’s children? Yet, she always manages to fall in love with the greens somehow, again and again each year for she has the foreknowledge of their hidden wonders. Those proverbial brown delights forming bunched as wise women assembled beneath fringe cloaks trimmed in Ermine tassels to be courted, to be served, and to be gifted. Hop like bundles of rice paper thin sheaths grow mentions children will roast in honor of the slaying of the Year King, hot in their mittens stolen directly from the Yuletide hearth. The Hazel kittens dangle head down in the Summer sun now their soft new tails swishing even when the breeze has abandon them to go lay with calm waters in need of ripples or dance through trees seeking a voice with which to sing. The bees busy about mating them one to another and their laughter can be heard in the night when the Fae come to swing upon their tender wisps catapulting themselves into the moonlit waters of Blue Cat Lake here at the Wren Haven.

© 2013 C.D.D. All Rights Reserved