Magic Lays Me Down ~ #FormForAll

The path hides well among brambles dense

but you gently take my hand to guide me

on moonlit night with only stars to see

a universe revealed to me, smokey fire and incense

a wide open spirit must know no fence

if it is to drink of divinity

Root of ancient pine

bed of needles, sacred ground

magic lays me down

magic lays me down

You whispered wisdom, secrets, and sacred prayers

spoke all that you claim I have always known

that I was always free and never owned

In your magic understanding was brought near

released this heart from self-imprisonment and fear

The stream ran beside

gently shaping rocks and time

bending all my realms

magic lays me down

How wise dear Mage, my excuses spent

forsaken in your name

Behind the veil in goddess arms

Unite in sacred flame

In heated embers we shall fall

purified and burning

magic lays me down this night

my spirit, finally learning.

Sam (AKA @Semaphore) is treating us to Free Verse at FormForAll today...but it's not what you think! Head on over to dVerse to see what we're up to and maybe even work your own magic!

#WakeUp in My Jungle @NWCreativeUnion

Welcome to My Jungle

It's the mama bear whose supposed to protect her cubs
while papa works to feed them
but sustenance is more than feeding the physical
when the soul who has decided to fight the good fight
takes residence within their family.

Some claim we choose our battles, our vessels
but the destiny must be claimed
and so many have grown tired of the fight,
content to float in a sea of demands
placed upon them by those that fear the creator
let alone the ideas that evolve
while gripping pen and marring canvas.

I lost myself for a while
waiting for that sustenance to be provided
filling the void with wild game and summer berries
until I realized that blood bleeds red from the meat
and the berries are as blue veined as the most expensive oil paint.
And with the only tools I was permitted
I began to feed my soul.

Mama and Papa did the best they could
but they never understood
and now I am the protector of the cubs.
My den is not perfect, but music bandages imperfection
My floor may be littered, but fine art distracts
and when one time Saturday nights
meant cheap wine and bar fights
(side effects of the empty soul)
I now remember every one
every crayon
every pencil
every bit of paraffin melted over autumn leaves
every bit of poetry that our pens bleed.

I will continue to nurture my cub
with every bit of soul food that I for so long
denied myself.
Woe to the beast, that tries to stop me,
who questions my motives
who denies I paid my dues.
I no longer need to hide in the tall grass
to take down the demons that haunt me.
My claws are sharp and they are ready.
My jungle...is by invitation only.

For some, the battle to create can be immense.  Over at The New World Creative Union's Wednesday Wake Up, I'm daring you to take on the haters. The folks that just don't get it.  It's not about money, it's not about fame, it is about passion, and doing what you were born to do.  Collectively, perhaps mankind has created a world where art is dying, but together...we can make sure it never happens. Share your own story with us...you've got till Sunday morning.

The Magic's in the Mystery ~ #OpenLinkNight

Lay down your hate for that you refuse to understand
Your ignorance is the weapon you claim you don't own
in the hands of the layman, easily forgiven
but not in the fields of the harvest we've sown.

Lay down your weapons, these words that you sing
for its not from the heart that you speak
You spread the lies of another, a false mislead brother
who drank of the kool-aid, who fell for the speech

That told him he was some how better than us
because in the end he will be forgiven
washed clean in a river, a misspoken vow
lied through his teeth to get to heaven.

The magic's in the mystery, not in false history
our teachers have feed us the lie
Forced into armies lead by broke side-show carnies
that exchanged our trust for an alibi.

Now they all prosper while we wait to feed
begging for scraps at their table
If we sit quiet like good puppets do
perhaps we'll get to live while we're able.

So we take their words and exist in their lie
hope mixed with blood that we bleed
work fingers to bone, to pay for a home
the food and the clothing we need.

I can no longer sing for my voice has been caged
it seems I have angered their god
I spoke common words, I made common sense
and in this kingdom that's rather odd.

But I still speak against them in whispers and poems
hoping that maybe you'll hear
The magic's in the mystery, not our false history
the time for our chorus is near.

I am shocked and angered at the direction the world has taken.  Good people are hurting all over, and our governments do nothing to lesson the impact.  Our schools, our health care systems, our communities and neighborhoods are suffering tremendously with only small exceptions...call it Occupy or call it common sense, but our systems have reached their peak and are folding in on themselves because we have allowed the control to be passed on to those who have "different" agenda's.  And it doesn't matter what country you call home...the issue is as global as the greed that is taking down the planet. Whoops...I'm ranting...cut to happier news...

The awesome Claudia will be manning or womanning, if you prefer, the pub for OpenLinkNight, and you're all invited! Linking up Tuesday 3pmEST over at dVersePoets...and, if you're interested, my poem "Frozen" from Nothing Left to Lose will be up as Poem of the Day at Poets.org ... how freaking cool is that! ;)

Bewitched

Would you choose me if you could use me?
Manipulate my mind?
Would you play me if you could slay me
bleed my secrets not meant to find?

Would you hold me or rather fold me
knowing I won't bend?
Will you hit me, attempt to split me
knowing that I'll mend?

Can you handle this bright young bramble
juicy as I am
Taste the berry, sweet not scary
and still call me friend?

Tempt the dare attempt to care
I know you're made of stone
I'll take the bait, I'll sit and wait
to kneel before your throne.

I'll call you king, for you I'll sing
and let you have your way
but my heart is torn, you have been warned
I may not survive our play.

Women's Obsession With Shoes ~ NOW Available

                                                             A shoe lover’s book

“Often, I look at dating kind of like

trying on shoes at the shoe store.

You know some of the shoes really look

and feel good at the store

but god you take them home

and then out in public

and they just look like hell

and they hurt your feet.

Often, men like an uncomfortable pair of shoes

may look real good but really don’t quit fit.”

A woman’s love for shoes has no boundaries. Million’s of women from all lifestyles and ages, crossing borders around the globe, care not of the necessity of shoes as much as they care of the aesthetic quality of them. Many of these same women along with countless others enjoy reading stories they can relate to or that entertain them.

Women’s Obsession with Shoes is a collection of twenty-one stories encompassing women, their lives, and shoes. The stories range from a lost pair of moccasins at a Pow Wow to a six-foot woman making a claim on a man’s chest in stiletto boots. Every story is written with the woman’s voice as if she was sitting next to you telling her story. Some of the stories will spark memories while others will be entertaining in their own way.

Now available on Amazon...order your copy today!

And don't forget...we're counting down to a world wide launch party and you're invited!

riverurke.com

A Decent World ~ Review From the Blue Room

A Decent World by Martin Lochner
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I may not have found Jesus when I read "A Decent World" by Martin Lochner, but I did find one amazing voice for contemporary poetry. I have been a fan of Martin's individual pieces as he posts them thru the online ether for sometime, but to have such a collection to curl up with was absolute bliss. Martin makes no bones about his poetry. His voice is strong. There is no pussy-footing or avoiding tough issues. He tackles relationships, faith, and the world with no fear. Personal favorites include "Instructing Men on Power" and "Loaded Drummer Girl", but for this faith seeker, perhaps the most hardest hitting was "Finding Jesus". AS mentioned, I'm still looking, but at least I have one of the most engaging modern poetry collections to carry with me while I continue the search.

View all my reviews

Lunatic Run

It's there
if you look hard enough
there's much more than wood
holding this baby together
there has to be...right?

The sun rides high
in the mid-July sky
blistering lips
blistix stick
bubbling skin
already brown from
a stolen midweek vacation

and up the hill we trek
bags of goodies
bouncing against hips
enveloped
in cotton candy mist
we laugh
as a cart full of lunatics
goes hurling by
screams lost to empty lungs
as their breath is stolen.
We laugh
but we're nervous....

Hidden now from the sun
but still no reprieve
as we join the short line of thrill seekers...
this ain't your grandma's log flume
and there's no refreshing splash
waiting for you at the end of the line
"Woman! We could die"
His eyes avoid mine
and I know resolve is slipping.
A cart full of lunatics
rolls into the station
broiling with laughter
he mistakes for fear
caught up in his own the way he is.

I take a seat, buckle up
while he stands there
one foot in the car to hell
one foot suspended
above the last piece of solid ground
he thinks he will ever touch.

I let him off the hook
as the nine year old kids
that have grabbed the front of our car
should not be subjected
to the bombardment of curses
he will not be able to control
even for the sixty seconds it takes
to find our way back.

I shoo him from the platform
pull the lap bar tight
and flip him the bird
as my car load of lunatics
the last in the line
careens over the edge

You know,
when you grab the last car in the line
you actually hit air...not rail?
And the great wooden timbers
start to shake.

The Tree-Topper Coaster, Upper Clements Park, Nova Scotia

Claudia is prompting us with Fun Fairs today for Poetics at dVersePoets...and this is one wanna-be who was in need of some fun.  Creative liberty has been taken with my tale...but that's not to say it's NOT based on truth...sorry hun! ;)