The Chatty Grim Reaper: The Thickening Darkness of Blank Pages

On January 3, 2018November 25, 2017 By dancingpalmtreesIn Fusion Poetry, Hodgepodge Poetry, Poems, Poetry, Prose and Poetry, Struggle Dance, The Chatty Grim Reaper: The Thickening Darkness of Blank Pages, Uncategorized6 Comments

The Chatty Grim Reaper: The Thickening Darkness of Blank Pages

A world teeming with Virtual Minutiae

Augmented Faces

Neural Networks

Mutilated Mannequins

Naked Apartments and Gypsy Housing

Soul Transporter + The Splattering of feet and ideas

You espied my Loneliness as a Thickening of the Darkness surrounding my soul

Pages Intentionally Left Blank

I can hear the screech of seagulls in the distance cruelly circling scavenging viscera from my nightmares

Struggle Dance

Packs of rats that eat anything and everything in their way including each other.

Finding her broken battered sliced up body parts he put her in a box labeled No Return

I lay there atop the early morning dawn beach. Sand in my hair, face and mouth. I spit out some grains as I slowly and painfully tried to raise myself up to at least a sitting position whilst waves of nausea assaulted my digestive track sending me onto the Vomitus Express. Vomit make it’s way up into my throat alternately gagging and heaving in full effect. Nightmarish odors entangled my olfactory system worsening my hold on this world and imperiling me towards the next.

Propping myself up on the heels of my hands I could then see that the stench came from horribly mutilated bodies scattered all across the beach some not more than a few inches away. Bodies once human now a mangled mashup of guts, brain matter, blood and feces decomposing along with rotting undigested remnants of their last meals.

Horrid stench but even worse how did I get here?

Gamepiece with a Dead Heron (“Falconer’s Bag”) Jan Weenix

Psycho Barn House

The Return of the Fiery Spirit

On January 1, 2018December 29, 2017 By dancingpalmtreesIn Art, Artist, Fusion Poetry, Hodgepodge Poetry, Leonard Cohen, Poems, Poetry, Prose and Poetry, Uncategorized5 Comments

The Return of the Fiery Spirit

Happy New Year!!

TRIGGER WARNING! RED ALERT!

Yes I’m back. After a much-needed break during which time I gave myself the opportunity to reflect. My blog had taken off in a wrong direction. Basically I was caught up. Lots of frustration. Too many obligations and responsibilities. Trying to juggle this concept of balance and harmony neither of which I achieved. Therefore it was time to let go.
When you fly too close to the Sun like Icarus you burn or in these modern times burn out. A Fucked Up Life = A Fucked Up Blog. I’m not Wonder Woman. The older I get the more I’m willing to admit defeat. More people should pay attention to the expression Beating Your Head against a brick wall. Well I have a bloody head.

Every so often you need to say, “Fuck it All.’ Like in Gone Girl I’m tired of being the Amazing Amy. Sometimes you must walk away from certain aspects of your life. My body does not handle stress well. Finally around the time my laptop died I was having terrible headaches every day. Collapse. Nobody there to help me or pick me up. As always I was and still am on my own. My life had become a fucking circus of putting on acts of well-being. Now I begin to tell the truth of a life filled with failures and flaws. No perfection. No promises. No happy endings. We deserve or think we deserve happiness, peace, joy and prosperity but life does not owe you anything. In this life you get many unexpected “gifts.”

If God/Universe gave out report cards my would be filled with F’s. This is the truth I live with every day. Again I don’t sugarcoat anything. One can never go back. It’s like saying you’re still a Virgin after the hymen has been broken or a baby has passed through your womb. No returns.

I Am Not a Performance. I am Truth.

I don’t like to be typecast or put into a stereotype. That’s why I don’t take to so-called Life Coaches, Life Hacks, Therapists or sellers of happiness snake oils. I don’t do Affirmations or Memes. They are totally lost on me. You don’t need to be a happy person to have Happy Times. I’ve had many Happy Times and will continue to do so. Happiness itself is situational. Just like anyway else who is brave enough to admit it I Love certain aspects of my being, my personality, my looks but their are other secret areas that come to plague me at night. That allow me no sleep. Those are my demons and I welcome they. My demons are my closet companions. Reliable. Always there. Sometimes they even save me for where would they be without me. We are bound to each with an umbilical cord that stretches but never severed. To know me is to see a stubborn mass of contradictions. I’m a paradox wrapped inside an enigma.

Woman Deconstructed Renewed in Partial Forms

It is what it is. I follow my own mind and make my own decisions. I admit to being high strung, nervous, lacking patience and mercurial. Anxiety attacks are my normal.

Temperamental and sometimes ill tempered. Blunt. Straight. No Chaser. I’m not the Replacement Bitch. I AM THE BITCH. B.I.T.C.H. Being in Total Control of Herself.

Basically I wanted to trash this blog totally but I realized I needed the archives being that I lost many of my MS Word documents. Also I needed a break from this writing blog to focus on my Photography Blog Roaming Urban Gypsy. However after increased demand and support from my Subscribers I will once again serve up offerings of poetry, prose and opinion. On My Own Terms.

Bits and pieces of my Life were in the Pawn Shop. Set up life a Museum dedicated to my past. Slowly once located I went back whenever possible to redeem and rescue pieces of my past so I could reassemble it into the future. Remade and Renewed through my own efforts or at times lack of efforts.

When one world dies another is born. And most don’t care unless it affects them directly.

I’m the Pegasus Unicorn in the Room.

It’s a Cold Broken Hallelujah

Black WoMoon Rising 2018!

The Oracle Speaks

On August 9, 2017August 10, 2017 By dancingpalmtreesIn Freestyle, Fusion Poetry5 Comments

The Oracle Speaks

The masses follow false prophets/profits and naked Emperors bearing gifts of fools gold. Yet the one who has stood the test of time silently stands awaiting with faded hope for the tides to change. Emperors oozing pus and blood leaving contamination desecrating sacred lands. Lavishly framed lies adorn a corpulent corpse.

Whilst distending belly’s cry out hunger pangs. EcleTrick forms of strangulation. Minefields populated by moronic maws spouting soiled vile sewer filth. Regurgitating carnage for breakfast.

Smudge. Sweep house. Sanctified Sweet Sage Do Your Work. Seer Circles unbroken.

Ancient ones shall have the last say. Those who have an ear. Let them hear. Listen as the forest, woods, rocks and stones whisper cosmos secrets.

Pulling verses from the Akashic tribal scrolls. Weaving braille dots upon stalwart stone.

The rocks cry out but who is listening. Caught up in nondescript fluff. Know you not that even a found feather has a message to share? Pulling dreams and visions from limited senses. The Forest Speaks. The Forest yields. Ever sensitive to the clamber and clatter of hiking feet. Not tuned in but turned by external quests.

Once it was marching boots. Till Johnny came home. Till Custer had his day. Here is where the Blue and The Gray gave utterance. So many maimed, gutted and left by the roadside.

Oak, Fir, Spruce, Evergreen We have seen the dead from many a bloody battle and buried the fallen with our leaves and moss. Their blood coursing through multiple root systems transmitting nourishment and stories. The Griot speaks.

There will be no medals given here my friend. There will be No Medals given here. Only a few stones to mark the spot.

War. Riches man’s Fake bluster. False pride. Poor man’s duty.

Cassandra My Raven haired Fiery Sepia toned beauty. Who will believe your report?

There was wailing and weeping across the land Rachel sobbing for her children because they are nought. The time of mourning is now at hand.

There is a Zephyr moving through the land.

Pangeia

On December 13, 2015September 30, 2017 By dancingpalmtreesIn Pangaea, Pangeia, Merlina, and Samsara, Pegasus Unicorn, Uncategorized18 Comments

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/planet/

This is a story-form prose-poem that came to me last night. As with many fellow writers many strange languages come to one in the period between wakefulness and full on sleep. I have no idea whence this tale is going for it emerged from my inner being. Enjoy and feel free to comment.

PANGEIA

Pangaea

In the days before the great flood underground tributaries flowed and rose upwards to hydrate the land. Where no underground tributaries existed rivers voluntarily overflowed their banks irrigating the adjacent crops.

Mother Pangaea graciously gave of her bounty feeding humans, animals, insects and sea creatures alike. None wasted. None were left wanting. None struggled. All bellies of sentient beings were filled.

A type of breadfruit grew plentifully from the overhanging trees. Villagers only had to reach out their bedroom windows or gather the golden ripe fruits which fell upon the ground at dawn to prepare healthy breakfast, mid-morning and lunches for the populace.

During this time of Pangaea all land masses were one joined together by straits, jetties and naturally born earth bridges. Gaia Earth Mother was a prodigious mosaic quilt of interwoven textile prints.

Persons who at this time were known as Ninth Dimension Changelings wore colorful garments of scintillating fabrics which gleamed in the Lunar Sun.

Their skins were of a royal purple hue. Ninth Dimension changelings’ distinctive characteristics were extremely long lavender eyelashes with feather extensions from the corner of each eye. The color of the eye plumes varied among their tribes, shade designating their family coat of arms. Some 9th dimension changelings had tiny diamond third eyes above and below their natural visual orbs. The eye feathers served dual purposes of adornment and transport. Diamond, ruby, pearl, amethyst, and other gemmed 3rd eyes assisted in communication with fellow tribal changelings as well as those from other alternate universes. These implanted jewels were internal and external translation devices enabling ninth universe beings to understand and be understood throughout the celestial Diaspora. Shamans and priestesses had golden hued skins with clusters of many color jewels over their right eye or to the side of the left eye. The High Priestess had the additional

Embellishments of semiprecious stones and crystals embedded into her chest region in addition to extra fine purple and blue feathers extended from her top and lower eyelids. All Her majestic emissaries had spiraling, thick curly multi-colored hair that extended in an outward spherical motion from the heads. Sacred inscriptions covered their backs, abdomens, arms and legs.

Being Ninth Dimension beings from a higher more realized realm all are Empaths & Telepaths. Meaning they can sense the feelings, emotions, & thoughts of others then decide whether to communicate via spoken or unspoken languages. Coming from a highly developed civilization they have the ability to heal others simply by sending healing and the ability to regenerate themselves of any illness or disability that may befall them.

They have the capability to travel through time and space either bodily or sending their doppelganger depending on the mission and circumstance.

They keep cats as pets. MultiColored Bright Neon Cats. The cats also have feathered tufts sprouting from their whiskers, ears, and eye lashes.

Suddenly the eccentric became a Banner of nonconformity and non-convention ready to spread Her gospel of healing across the pond if not the land. Now anointed Shamans in the ecclesiastical of the peculiar.

Ritual, rites, ceremony and sacrament bestowed absolution; gave order to Her chaotic life.

Three SiStar Ninth Dimension Changelings: Pangeia, Merlina, and Samsara.

Valley flowers arose from the dewy mysts producing the most delectable scents and fragrances. Three of the most scrumptious Valley Flowers were the SiStar Changelings Pangeia, Merlina, and Samsara. SiStar Pangeia sprang straight from the heart of Mother Pangaea, Merlina was conceived via magic, and Samsara was the gift of the eternities.

Often they danced the Labyrinth, seeding the fields playfully chanting,

“Three Girls. Bouncy curls. Girlhood wanes so quickly. Raven, Red and Golden Brown.”

Daughter Pangeia gently pushed forward her winged Pegasus Unicorn Mare who with a gentle whinny and shake of her magnificent mane slowly lifted upwards allowing Daughter Pangeia to survey local territories and city-states in preparation for the eight year Mandala pilgrimage. The pilgrimage allowed all the inhabitants of Pangaea to co-exist in peace for epochs. In the eighth year of harvest season townsfolk and villagers traveled great distances to gather at Mandala to dance the Labyrinth and to give Thanks to the Goddess for her limitless bounty.

One day whilst Daughter Pangeia was scanning the land for a suitable place to hold the Mandala celebratory ceremony a huge comet felled the skies striking one large river making it two. River good. River evil. River evil was an optic delusion designed to lure unsuspecting travelers with the appearance of clear crystal lakes suitable to drink from but turned out to be quicksand bogs causing many lost lives.

This greatly troubled Daughter Pangeia. She immediately flew to the mountain chambers where she and her SiStars resided for council.

After relating all that she had observed Daughter Pangeia sat together in the established Divine Cosmic Circle held hands during which Samsara communed with the spirit worlds receiving instruction.

Samsara

“Once I was baptized by hieroglyphics and clear cave markings. Mother Pangaea tattoos now imprinted on feeble minds. Blood red raindrops on wet sand. Sulphur burn odor twitched many sensitive nostrils. Many incarnations are we! Many incarnations are we! We make our homes Divine Temples.”