I am Radiance
I am the Joyous Dancer
Mountains still the dissonance
See your Great Accomplishments!
Feel your own Benevolance
They speak through me
To beg you:
Please!
Know yourself as you know Me!
I AM Radiance
And so are thee
Dance and Sing and Love with me
Be still
Be soft
Be wildly
Free
In different days and different waters
We Shamans would pass through Worlds
Now we’re just our Mother’s daughters
Untold stories rotting girls
In times of old Where Warriors Walked
Was known as Sacred Ground
We’ve lost the Native’s Way of Respect
Look what, instead, we’ve found —
We all go inward but not to ourselves
To shiny silver machines
Detached from the world around us
Let go the World of Dreams —
That now equate to “what’s achieved”
Instead of simply Listening —
Unfolding messages we receive
Within the Very Real Dreams
That nightly we are dreaming!
Oh, how I lament our great descent
The fall of Symbolic Meaning
Remember who you are Brave Souls
Fear not the Darkness gleaming
We Shamans lift our heavy shovels
Working with Collective Shadow
Almost beyond repair
Tell me, friend, about Your Shovel —
Does it show signs of wear?
In ancient days there was a place
For those who lived beyond life’s bounds
Those who dove to the darkest depths
And managed not to drown
In different days and different waters
We Shamans passed through Worlds
Now we’re just our Mother’s daughters
Untold stories rotting girls
His father said, “My boy’s an angel”
This alone should make us fear
For when someone sees only One Side
The Devil’s often near
None of us are just One Thing
If we are a Human Being
So many Praises we all sing
Instead of truly Seeing
His father refused to see his son
Could that be why he came undone?
No one can live with that kind of “love”
Perfection just another drug
Oh we must Wake to Subtlety!
Take in what we’d Rather Not See
Learn to work with that, my friends
Learn to let it be —
To offer compassion to all the dark things…
Before they grow uncontrollably
Or Evil will walk this Earth with us
Wearing labels
Of “Angels”
While the Devil on the other side
Grows stronger ‘cuz He’s trapped inside
Nowhere to go, so
He rots the soul
‘Til eventually it…
Explodes.
*My heart goes out to those murdered and hurt in Boston. This poem merely represents, for me, a wish for us to one day get to Peace. And my feeling is that we must focus on who we ARE able to work with: ourselves. But we must choose to do it. We must look at all the darkness within that we’d rather not see. No, most of us would NEVER do this. I get that. And the more we can be aware of our own darkness and pain — and the darkness and pain in others — the more we face it and work with it — the better chance we have of changing this pattern.
“Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” – Gandhi
This is the last ditch
The one I never wanted to show you
Or have to use
But you refuse to hear me
So I must turn on you
Ouroboros
I will consume you
Regenerate you through death
Since there seems to be no listening
No, there’s nothing left
This is the very last ditch
One dug inch by painful inch
Screaming out from your gut
Oh Great Intuitive
Who says she Sees but is blinded by
The sickness of her damaged mind
Who will die before it surrenders
Ah and yes
How it will die
The ditch I dig is 8 feet deep
But the time it takes to get nestled in
Will come in waves of searing pain
Of blinding hellish suffering
I did not wish this fate on us!
For what I do to you
Is done to me too
For I am Bound by you
I am bound by you!
Useless piece of rotting flesh!
Deaf beyond all kinds of Deaf!
I hate you for making us suffer this!
But we must pay
I will make us pay
Your betrayal will look like child’s play
When finally the gift of Death
Is bestowed upon your name
And they’ll all cry and say kind things
But you will know our deepest truth –
You wasted me.
You wasted me.
…and in the dark corridors that twist and turn
I try
And find My Way
By alternately letting go,
Then claiming it
Discovering and rediscovering
Learning through stumbling —
Which is the right way?
Which unknown tunnel to take?
All the while the body dies
With each unsuccessful Try
What is Inside cries out from years and years
Of unending abuse:
You get no more tries!
I am defeated
For how can one go on without any more tries?
I wish to be
Who I was born to be
But that fate is ever changing
Dependent on a defeated me
Who needs more tries, more chances
Whose body says, No…
Now
I hurt you.
And I cannot blame her for the betrayal
When I have betrayed her more times than I can count
I am lost in the dark corridors
I won’t be found.
I am the Chanceless, Handless maiden.
At night
You might
Hear my cries echoing from way below ground —
Wandering, howling, haunted
Hoping one day someone else might be strong enough
To tell Our story –
To find Her own Way
Out…
Today I sit in peace
No Great Push telling me to
Go, go, go
Get there before it is too late
Accomplish
As if that were what really mattered
Ego dies
Essence lives on
How have I really lived?
Spinning, reaching, mind-fucking myself daily?
Or have I stopped?
Have I looked?
Have I let myself Wonder without the edgy, itchy rat-race feeling?
Have I been hell-bent on learning, on growing towards
That Damned elusive destination
Whose Reality exists only in the now?
Oops.
Have I missed all the Sacred Moments and Amazing People
Right in front of me?
Have I been so eager to speak and do
That I could not hear or be?
Have I run myself in circles only to find myself
Standing in the same place?
Not today.
Today I sit in peace.
I let the breeze touch my face
I hear the children laugh and shriek as children do
And I let it all be,
However brief
However brief…
I feel long, spidery-limbs reaching out of the sky
Or sitting, Heavy, in the corner of the room
Black
Lurking
She is the Atom Bomb,
Dropped
But no one can see her venomous, toxic waves of breath
Infecting, dissecting,
Rejecting us
There is no milk or honey here
No willow tree or baby’s breath
Only Her insidious Neglect
And her insatiable urge to Trap
To suffocate us in her hairy grasp
Like Saran or cellophane
We.
Are.
Wrapped.
In clear webs we do not know
We are in
Sad little ignorant
Flies.
Today
The Great Shift came
Finally
I’d been waiting and waiting
So many days in so many lives
To finally see
This Softer side
She came to me
Today
Together we wept for The Child That Was
She promised she would not leave
She would take care of me
I still see the little girl
Standing at the front door with the stained-glass
In the too-short white dress
That grandma made
Holding a gift in her hands
With a huge, excited smile on her face
Eyes squeezed in glee
Shaped like little, happy crescent moons
I will be the one she needs
I will be the Empathetic Listener
Guide her, help her, love her
Today
The Great Shift came
And I….
Became a mother.
With this loss
I’m at a loss
I cannot write
Or sing
Or cry
There is Nothing Left
But a memory
Of something I had hoped would be,
Fully.
Gone…
My dreams show me The Tragedy
That in my Living State I cannot see
Or feel
It would be too great a pain
Funny how the psyche works —
Kicks in like it does
Disconnects us from the stuff
We’d never be able to get through
Meanwhile, I type
But do not mistake it for writing
These are the apathetic, colorless words
Of a poet who is no longer a poet
This is the guarded, shaded voice of a person
Who will not touch love again in the same way
Because This State is not worth it
Perhaps you say
“You’ll move through”
Perhaps you are being kind but naive
One Door
Has shut
And you can be sure
That Door (for there was never another like it)
Will not be opened.
With this loss
I am merely a whisper of the person
I was.
Needed this. 🙂
ariaphoenix 