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cricket night

a shy night for quiet

a pause to abandon

this load

i’ve been trying to steer

this piano i’ve been trying to charge up hill

a rest from the skid-me-down, bang-me-up

a clear night to call plenty

with branches barely arcing

fully framing

the stars that glimpse me as i drop my protest

release my grip on a skewed reality

a night embracing

each new tap

each new vibration not dependent on the last

but a fresh new night to open me up

to weightless clouds

the trance of stars…

it’ll be a new day

after this last night

Art courtesy of Wendy Andrew,

Art courtesy of Wendy Andrew,


today is about consciousness

my lack of it

my fear of it

my desperation to be it

my struggle to embrace it, yet reject it

to run from it, like cool shade from hot sun

shade that grows like a monster or shrinks like a coward

staring consciousness in the mouth and swimming with it

delighting in it

tentatively allowing it to unfold me

uncrimp me

turn me into flowing

instead of road blocks of angst.

today is the blanket of consciousness around me

the sun card

that can absorb me

only as much

as i am willing

to let go

Sun Card

Visualizing a journey back to the Great Mother Protector is a great stress reliever and soothes the inner child, even the adult! You can imagine it any want you want, here is just an idea.

my scared and tired

of jaws so tight

melt me into your waterbed bosom

hold me in your pulse

wrap me away from the outside

protect me, pull me from all of “that” out there

flood me away so i see from afar

my connection, my belonging

in the safety of your embrace,

curled like a child in your palm, detach from the false

allow myself so small and you so big

with you, i can look back and see

the illusion of it all, release what i thought was real

loose jaw, suckle within your aura

and in the den of your womb

i can take a breath

plug into the very Source, the truth of what we all are

and find refuge from the world

Goddess Art, Courtesy of Janice Rocke

Goddess Art, Courtesy of Janice Rocke

i need square time

she said with a prance

to study the conjugation of himilayan

square time

from the blues holiday and wings that fly

square time of igloo reading glasses, crusty books

trade articles and google search

oh, sing that chakra number two

and shake your heart of tambourine

howling coach to bangledesh and new york city

before i go om

plant my roots on down…

i love you, muse

pouring your sauce on my cake

but i need nerd time

with Elton and earthly dogs

i’m just a square afterall

coming home after the ball

Street Singer by artist and writer Eliezer Sobel see more about him at:

Street Singer by artist and writer Eliezer Sobel
see more about him at:



this is an ekphrastic poem written for Sarah Curtiss’ art piece below by the same title

this is the way life is

with its boxes and swirls

appearing as snares, suction cups and mazes

they are everywhere

you step into them everyday

get boxed in

circle around and around

then trip into a dead end

before you see clearly, after so many lifetimes

that the boxes are windows

the swirls are clouds to carry you away

the rubik’s cubes are your own lethal thoughts

so i lie down to not think

i am awake but i do not participate

i recline quietly as

ancient labyrinths order my hair

secret mazes mark my body

sacred swirls coil my mind

cyclones siphon my drops

i shut my drain pipes

to all that is going on

like music in the background

and fall into myself

into my infinity

spiral like a snake where gaia meets the cosmos

let the energy flow

fly above where the patterns take helix shape

until i am free of the circling thoughts

material traps

and can wrap my being around

the divine pattern

of all there is

Meditation by Sarah Curtiss see more of her art at

Meditation by Sarah Curtiss
see more of her art at

i’m watching you
stirring everything to a frenzy
your wires crossed
you don’t know which direction you are going

flinging up dust
and whatever else you can grab onto,
charging skin electric
frazzling nerves with your silent shrieks

everything you touch, you rock
push this way and back
inside you are wailing
wailing tremors of grief
outpouring bellows from some unspeakable blow

until you stop for a moment to get your breath
and everything sucks in the calm
before you roar out again
shaking us up, clanging our fists shut

there’s no one to console you
no prayers or offerings from
we powerless observers
who have lost the art of speaking to you
except to curse your outbursts

we shrink from your emotion
annoyed at your undefined rage
slink away inside
from your venting gusts

your siren only sounds
in the velocity of your pressure
your scream is hidden
inside your force

your howls are vagrant banshees
until maybe in a day
or in a few weeks
your grief will find its resting place

you’ll reach consolation, pull your breath back into yourself
and begin to dance your easy sway again
i will feel your soft breath on my cheek
and i will feel peace is here at last.

art, courtesy of janice rocke

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