Outside Inside

On the wall outside my window

Is a shimmer of turquoise and yellow

Where does it come from?

I follow the diagonal shape of the light on the outer brown wall

And discover the same shape, but opposite direction

on my inner wall

a  clear reflection

I have to look through the glass in

The window to see it

A lense  a sheet

What is inside is reflected on the outside

There

Here.

Outside  spiderweb-thin leaves

Dance on the clear blue white snow

And I sense this blue cold inside

Being infinitely light caressed by

The dancing steps from last year’s

Waterfall of shedding reds and yellows,

And wispy light pale blue browns

Like the skin on my hands

Dust to dust

Earth to earth

Sun in my heart

And the wind blows right through me

Miracle Cell Phone

My new cell phone has lost battery power from the day i bought it. I have told it to mirror ONLY what is helpful, so I have seen this loss of energy as a sign to me to SLOW down, relax, walk, pause, rest.Today it topped its performance:
It refused to go past 77% uploaded. I charged and charged and to no avail – until it dawned to me – ohmygod it means 1977!

That’s when my first and only daughter was born – ahh – THAT’S the energy I currently have overwhelming me – a HUGE terror at being a MOM – and this morning I slowly meticulously walked out of it by stating that I wanted the GOD-essence within this terror and nothing else.

It was after having done this – and enjoyed the slow and powerful warmth that grew forth – that I understood that the cell phone-power status 77 WAS a message.

The cell phone is lying right here, charging from the PC. For 3 hours now it has refused to go past 77. The minute I realized it, it started going up.

Now I rest in 1977-energy, chaos and terror, calling out its essence fully, sharing it with you all.

And offering a playful poem I wrote in May this year – since that came from this playful essence we all share ♥

SPACE

My words have newly rained here
Now drying themselves up
In May sunbeams
Windows open in houses
Come in, come in!
I can’t and I won’t

Space, I say, Space!

They don’t hear me

SPACE!
I don’t live inside it
I offer myself to it
Becoming its hostess

Hostess I am:
Milky Way hair
Wolf eyes looking at pups
Savannah ears
Nose knowing of sub-terrain tunnels
Light-house lips
Sarepta hips
Breasts like surprised white lamb clouds
Sallow arms, Birch hands,
Legs like leaping Antelopes
Butterfly vagina
And kitten toes

You spot me and enter my Space
I can’t be had

Rainbow smile

And the cellphone is now 100% charged – just as I am 🙂

 

 

Receiving my Self

I wrote two poems these last days. I knew I liked them a lot – and I wanted to RECEIVE them with all of me.

I stood up, stretched my arms up  toward Self and prayed to be helped RECEIVING MY SELF, the beauty and bubbling creativity that comes through me.

AND IT CAME! Rushes of bliss flowed through me, intense joy and gratitude without bounds

AT LAST  RECEIVED ♥

My Others

Moanie Molly is mean on Mondays

frivolous on Fridays and

satyrical on Saturdays

 

Pretty-bow Prune tinkers with truth

on Tuesdays and

tortures toddlers on Thursdays with

a terrible smile of too- twinkling -teeth

 

Wednesday is my day – Woolly Wendy

is my wame. I call them in through

my windows of welcome

I wind them warmly into my

wet and woolly wembrace,

tucking them in, wriggling and wailing

wrapping them up in well-meaning waffle words

 

Sunday is sublime-day.

All of us together.

Singing in the supersonically choir of sunflowers,

Visiting soothsayers and sweet-shocked solicitors,

Swimming in star shined seas of sovereign surprises,

Summoning slithering salamanders

and cute little ducks.

Then we go home

and sleep the slumber of

sincere sinners

and saints

*

OTHER

You think you can avoid me

Climbing the highest mountain

I am your  holy ground

Diving the profoundest depths

I am the reflective surface

Traveling straight forward

I am the tail you bite

You look at me and shiver at the

Dark mask

And I am looking at you through the slits,

Stretching my arms out towards you

You see threat

I see you

Heart  broken open

No other

 

 

 

 

 

 

MOONSICK

 

 

Me and Mimsy and Terrible Dill
And Ma and sick little June
Were climbing the hill in the month of Aprill

To talk to the blistering Moon

Our June had mumpsies
And boils and fears
We all had scrumpsies
And buckets of tears
And that’s why we climbed
The old grassy hill

To speak to the Man in the moon!

Stop it! I said, and Ma yelled YES!
We are tired of boils and fears!
We want you to shine in green for a change
Since June is lergic to silver moon
And now could you please see to rearrange

That nasty old silvershine soon!

Then TERRIBLE happened. Down came frogs
And silvery lizards and slithery scrogs
The man in the moon yelled Nay, I won’t!

And we sat in the grass and cried.

And me and Mimsy and Terrible Dill
And Ma and sick little June
Sat on our bottoms and down we sled

Down to our cottage and went to bed
And Terrible Dill said
Ma, I know:
Buy super green Goggles for June instead
And Ma said I WILL! YES I WILL!

***

The photo is taken by Tuasmalo-

https://www.facebook.com/pg/tuasmalou/photos/

 

HIGHLY VALUED SPECIMEN FOR SALE – OUTWORN PLEASING PENNY

HIGHLY VALUED SPECIMEN FOR SALE – OUTWORN PLEASING PENNY
( from Madame Tussaud’s secret Museum of Lost and Toxic Relationship-Specimens.)

So endearing in her dead-beat condition
Pale gray dress frayed at cuffs and hem
Buttons hanging by threads or missing
Sensible shoes downtrodden, black and bloodied,
Shoelaces frayed and exhausted
The old sweet “I will save you” necklace with engraved letters
Flashing, communicating subliminally in code.
Overstretched grin, parading as smile
Chained to gritting teeth
And a heart that needs to be right
Above all

This is a great specimen
Well preserved in her exhaustion
Which makes her truly convincing
When you push her belly button
You may get a whiff of very special
Guilt
She comes with her own black-lacquered cupboard
With well-preserved and polished skeletons from
Her noble ancestral line
Extra:
Ear muffs in skunk for when you can’t stand her
“I know what’s best for you”-tone

Everything Falls

Everything falls

Stones fall

Rumbling

Trees fall, slowly, creaking, crashing, moaning

Temperature sinks

Snow crystals sink and descend

Moods sink

Birds fall, but only if they are shot

Or attacked in air

Otherwise birds never fall

I never ascend in this body

Unless someone lifts me

Or I am in a metal machine that looks like a bird

I can’t even fly in dreams

Though it so happens that

Sometimes I just bend my knees

And lift my feet up

I fly forty centimeters above

The ground

And wave my hands rapidly

Just to tell you, you don’t

Need to fly to the moon and

Sing about it –

It is OK to fly low

With knees bent

Hide and Seek

For those who do not know about A Course in Miracles, this is a poetic and metaphoric  way of describing the metaphysics 🙂

 

Convincing

I challenge you to find me I said,
Behind whatever disguises I offer!
I will find you, he said, even if you hide
In the crack between centuries.

I turned myself into a deserted
Garden, rusty iron fence with croaking
Hinges, whining and complaining at
Human touch. Dry and brown spotted
Leaves on the ground, cracked flagstones
With tired yellow grass

I filled the sad house with mold and cold,
Dust and rust, and hid my heart in the cellar.
My disguise was so convincing that I
Disappeared into it, I became the deserted
House with coleoptera, spider webs as curtains,
I forgot it was a game

For eons I forgot
Then – one day the sky was filled with pink
Like a bed sheet of happiness drawn all up to one’s nose
And you sun-rained through the cracked roof
Into my creation!
You met me in the cellar stairs
And grinned
And I remembered that I thought I could be lost!

How did you recognize me, I asked
And you just shook your head at such
Silliness
What took you so long, I said
And you said: beloved, we just parted
My heart burst out in daffodils
We frolicked for quite a while
And then I wanted to play hide again
It feels so darn good to be

Found

And seen through

Forgiveness-exercise

This is from chapter “Snake” in When fear Comes Home to Love.”

1) Visualize yourself as a child, and ask your inner Guide to lead you to a situation where you sensed your parents’ fear and chaos in the air, and your body instantly reacted to that and identified with it. Try to find the moment where you internalized the craziness, and made it your fault that your parents behaved crazy and scary.

Now JUST LET IT BE THERE IN THE BODY. Breathe kindly around the sensations, if there are voices just let go of them, you are resting in God this very moment when you say yes to what is there in your mind and nervous system. There is nothing more to do – just rest with whatever presents itself.

Another variation: If you are one of many who need a bit of help to release stuck energies from hidden pockets in the energy-system, I suggest you go to an EFT-site and download a free manual of the method. When you tap with your fingers on certain points in the meridian-system, while at the same time as you hold the pain or memory in your awareness, the most surprising releases may happen. It is very easy to learn the method – but may take time to truly master it. The Course reminds us that forgiveness is just looking, without judgment -and this is what you do: the tapping just removes the unnecessary charge of pain from the nervous system, while you look at the content with the Holy Spirit.”

*

 

Colorgobbling

How powerful words are – and images!

Kit talked today about two ways looking at things/situations:

1. The judging look –  aka the character ” The Colorgobbler” by Tor Åge Bringsværd,  in the drama ” The Country Where Everything was Different.” I have never heard a better way to describe what judgment really does – with people and their souls. I designed costumes to that play 35 years ago – and only today was I, with Kit’s playful help, able to expand my vision and see the color-gobbling/sucking aspect of judgment. And what a help that is, to stop this automatic inner judge most of us have.

2)The playful look: the clown, the poet, the fool.

If you want to play with sitting with both alternatives, you will sense the energetic effect I am sure

*******

This silly playful poem came through me yesterday:

On the beach

Would you be willing to be
a beach to me he said…
strewn with striped parasols and little huts
with yellow mats
and  azure blue water

I might, she said,if you are willing to
be the fresh towel and the lavender soap
in the hut
and the shower with freshwater
outside it

we looked at each other
we liked the answers
the sun shone in perfect strength
our bathing suits were new
the wind was perfectly gentle

and since we were in the tropics
the night just exploded on us

there were fireflies
but we were nowhere to be found

 

Poemcrazy

What is happening for me now –

Sometimes – maybe twice a week or more – I meet somebody’s eyes and we both are completely present and awake. “Foreigners”, that is. And they all feel like the oldest bestest friends. We never stop, I’ve noticed – just a 2-3-second eye-soul contact, deep peacefulness and joy, and then the habit takes our feet away.

But the imprint of love and joining is as strong NOW as it was when it happened – just fully remembering Who we are.

In the night, the dreams are chaotic and very very unpleasant and tiring. But when i get up and abide as Christ, I ask what belief lies under all of that. Then i realize that earlier,this belief was helping me stay “protected” from saying something and causing dangerous situations – so I thank that pattern, own it. and see that it is not valuable any longer.

Today I sat like this in the five-minutes abiding as Christ  – which turned into 3/4 hour – and at some point, a river of toxicity left my brain through my temples or ears in two streams.

Afterwards I felt I had lost about 20 pounds

*
Today I got a new book by Susan Wooldridge:  Poemcrazy. When I was sitting with it, the doorbell started co-cooing like crazy – 6 times, and then a seventh while I was looking at it through the window. THIS IS FOR YOU. DO IT!

Oh yes I will – funny thing is. I have done so many of this word-games she describes in earlier workshops. And now, I am back -and I will find somebody to play with 🙂

Recent poem:

Choices

Left road:

Rain on Monday evenings between 19-21
Military marches for small men with big dogs on Wednesdays
Digging holes for manure Fridays
Flag rising on Sundays, only on municipal buildings
No singing on Thursdays
Whistling: never
Red clothes only Saturday evening after 7pm
Weeping and gnashing of teeth 10 minutes after 5pm each day

Right road:

Moonlight serenades by small insects with lighted bottoms
Checkered dresses and flowered suits whenever
Pink bubbly and chocolate mousse whenever
Nothing matters
Ever
Nothing changes
Ever

Turn around.
Wait for the little red and yellow copter
*