London Subway

Having fun today with London subway stations – and borrowing the first verse from Baccus Olypus , a poet friend:

 

SUBWAY

 

(First verse borrowed from Baccus’ poem: )

 

From an opposite seat

he stares when he thinks I’m not looking

He doesn’t know that I hear the bones in his neck grind

and his eyes swivel –

 

And there

They disappear into his head

That sinks into his shoulders

That slump and sink into

His belly

 

Brent Cross

 

My God

Now only his feet are left

And now a sucking black void

 

Gunnersbury – Ickenham

 

I bend down and look closer

 

Canada Water

 

And I am sucked in too

What a bloody sucker I am

 

Cockfosters

 

Too late

 

Epping

 

End station – Killburn

 

with sorry asses chained to their

sins and lamenting their guilt

 

“Welcome workers to

Crystal Bloody Palace

hang your hopes on the peg there,

here is much to do

and atone for

and we will help you with that –

scum!”

 

I looked for the sucking black void

I found it

 

Seen enough

Going back up

 

Sharing Cross

Mile End

Olympia

 

Temple

Embankment

 

Seven Sisters

 

High Gate

 

Green Park

Squiggly Dance for Sorry Asses

I have had the Hater’s shrieks in my ears constantly for over a year.

Writing a poem about it has been very helpful! And also making up new words.

 

******

Tis the voice of Green Hater. I heard him declare:
I am coming to shock you, now please be aware

that I could not care less, no  in truth do I swear

I despise your meek manners, your silverlipped tongue

and your drooping eyelids and songs long unsung

I will come in broad daylight and scare you  quite shitless

I’ll mock your big bum and your wit that is witless

You nincompoop sorryass, daftness itself

I will see you for sure in your innermost hells

where you mope and you moan and you scratch yourself red

and your innermost hope is to drop down all dead.

 

Tis the voice of the writer, I heard her declare:

Oh Hater, I say; be aware, be aware

of my silly-spun heart and my giggly air!

I will spin into rhymes every threat that you throw

ev’ry dullwinded shriek, ev’ry word tasting..OH!!

I will force you to dance with me, following steps

that you never have stepped in your life, little qweps.

I will force you to do what you never have done:

dance to your own silly threats – oh what fun!

I will unnerve your nibs, I will squiggle your goggles

And then then let us have us some heartily bubbles!

 

When I am dead – poem

I am writing this in the the style of e.e.cummings whom I love a lot.

when i am dead and

you pour my ashes under that

special writing bush

i had when i was six

i loved to write stories

 

then and afterwards

if you take a spoon

with ashes a spoon

is enough and

 

if you were an elephant

then would you place your

foot on it and rock tenderly

on it and would you

hold you trunk over it

and blow softly

 

when I am dead

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