Hiccups!

I chanced upon a hiccup
on my way across the plains
and it rose and dipped according to
the way hiccups always do.

It came as a complete surprise;
could hiccups be the way of life
which like a bomb distracts the mind
from the good essential?

I thought the plains a solid base
not an undulated mess
that tests the front, sideways, back,
of how I present myself ~
but now I know they simply are
a place where hiccups lie in wait
to pounce upon the loving.

And hiccups are like cereal
vitamin enriched, of course,
to energize distractions from
and distortions of the truth.

I once was still on “them there” plains
before the advent of hiccups
that wear the guise and act like life
to turn believers doubtful.

To myself and those who love,
a hiccup's just a hiccup
 armed to chase us from the plains
if we ourselves run scared!

I am also from

I am also from the womb
of creative intent
and from the contrariness
of one who journeys mindfully.

I am also from the motherhood,
the sisterhood, et al,
of the blue of sky and oceans wide
that captures the best of me.

I am also from the knowing
of corners, bends, and curves
formed each into an obstacle
that tests my flexibility.

I am also from the thoughts
of the you, the them and they
loving, indifferent, hateful,
imbibed collectively.

But I’m also from the heart
of angelic realms divine
who stitched in my unhappiness
an eternal pressure valve.

And I’m also from the love
that surpasses understanding
but how loving can love be
when it severs me from you?

I am from ...

I am from the slide of sun
into the place where lovers meet
and the glow of moon
that makes me know it’s true.

I am from silver linings
of the dark and menacing
and the dew that overlays
landscapes of betrayal.

I am from the song of birds
joyous in the morning light
and the silence of the lambs
overcome by stormy weather.

I am from the crust of earth
that stabilizes fear
and her own inner turmoil
that upsets what I hold dear.

I am from the question mark
of not understanding
and the exclamation mark
of acceptable conclusions.

I am from the trail of hands
that contoured soul to fit
all the many styles and shapes
of diverse circumstances ~
but most of all without a doubt
I am from loving you!

Let it be known

To be awake but not awakened
and, oh, this is a merry life
that keeps one in the mire
of reality’s conspiracy.

And then there is the light
but no enlightenment
and knowledge but no wisdom
and love but no loving.

Peace is there somewhere
but no peacefulness
because it cuddles up to joy
and hides in discontent.

Let it be known I know
how great we are to live this farce
and play-act with intensity
the simulated genuine.

But of the genuine who knows
if ere upon a dusty shore
if will rise in true force, effect,
and stand as one triumphant?

Let it be known I don’t know
but maybe in a future time
there’ll be a misfit speck of past
that shows I should have known.

The awake, enlightened, wise,
the peaceful and the joyous,
all specks within the folds of time
that one day will make a … whole!

There can be ...

There can be a moment of happiness, joy,
and faith so strong it breaks my own will
and there can be a moment of sadness, despair,
that breaks what lies beyond awareness.

There can be the lightness of wishes in air,
the heaviness of no one who cares,
the gentle hold of loving you so
and the open arms of letting you go.

There can be the tears of the lost and lonely
and those joined with mirth and laughter
and there can be the pain in body and mind
that loosens my hold on these present times.

There can be the sinking of feet into earth
and the wiping it off because it’s just dirt
but dirt always sticks no matter the holes
life has made be in everyone’s soul.

There can be, there was, but what’s yet to be
a matter, I think, simply up to me!

The middle part

Not as bad as death row,
not as good as paradise,
and yet an island visited
to stand on solid ground.

It’s the middle part before the sway
and a place no one can stay
for like the sea it rises, sinks,
and the sand moves underfoot.

What’s good, what’s bad?
No mind can know
when like an island buffeted
or calmed by passing fancy.

And so that “try, try again”
for constancy, stability,
a never ending flex, relax,
until all the facts are known.

But facts are like graphs and charts
drawn by own perceptions
and that island’s just a place I go
to experience the flow ~
until paradise found and known
to be here on my death row!