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 Jan 2017 GaryFairy
wordvango
lift ,curl
press
squat\

hello mirror on the wall
flex,pose
breathe out
compose

poetry is so much
an exercise
so much like lifting heaviness
except

it isn't
 Jan 2017 GaryFairy
wordvango
what was  in the longest sleep I have ever had?
dreams of mistletoe or camels
the brunch with the Dalai Lama
or George Harrison's hair
in my hands,
and had I any dream?
I don't know....
just rest
for me,
a quiet peace.
a piece of God.
 Jan 2017 GaryFairy
John Stevens
As you travel this road
looking to find
Someone in need of love.
Whose broken spirit
in need of repair
By the Love given Above.

It might be someone
whose given up hope
And is found in deep despair.
With all hope gone
no place to turn
no shoes or clothes to wear.

The drug once chosen
For what ever the reason
Has taken them to the ground.
They need a hand
To help them up
Out of the hole they are found.

You see the pain
deep within
Caused by someones lust
No way to cope
to overcome
For they have lost their trust.

A kind word here
A smile there
Can help fill the hole.
When hope was lost
By careless words
And actions took their tole.

As I travel this road
Hoping to find
A soul in need of love
May directions come
To me this hour
From Love given Above.
 Jan 2017 GaryFairy
S S
Train tracks
 Jan 2017 GaryFairy
S S
Clacks the train on pre-made track
Taps she on and on all day
Wheel on rail, turns wheel on rail
Never wavering from laid out trail.

Clacks the train on pre-made track
Oft taking souls both to and fro
Alas unseen goes the weary rail
As metal cuts through the nestled nail.

Clacks the train on pre-made track
The unjoining joint harked too late
Souls on board feel blinding pain
As loco veers off its destined lane.

Clacks she no more on pre-made track
Unhinged, undone, has no path, no role
Bent beyond all blacksmith skill
Now left soulless, without way or will.
 Jan 2017 GaryFairy
Ma Cherie
The great Green Mountains,
up where the tallest evergreens grow,
stretching,
upward an outward,
toward the heavens,
a perimeter of boundaries,
where white iridescent angels,
can drift,

Touching the clouds,
in winds of change coming,
gathered together sheltering storms,
alongside barren maples
and birches,
with shriveled others aging,
gracefully,
bowing down to winter's bone,
and ready for Spring's solstice.

When,
in surging solar winds,
upward of,
a million miles an hour,
40 hours after leaving their sun,
raining in an big bright ariel shower,
emphasizing their greatness,
in an eerie tranquility,
behind a diffused hazy luster,
a distant soft moon light,
in a beautiful Glory Shining.

Silvery satin ribbons,
and celadon green bends,
as colors wait pensive to create
in messages it then sends,
a heavenly landscape,
for their part in the prism ballet,
these arial acrobats,
yearn to touch tips on sturdy cutouts,
of tall old aging trees,

Dancing into ever-changing,
multifaceted soft,
an inspiring hues,
an shifting in the breeze
they move above,
in a mystical rhythm,
a dark and mysterious,
black smoke rises
in between rays,
in the opaque darkest hour,
for the creation of,
a spiritual backdrop,
mysterious feeling power
in the magnificent,
Magnetic Midnight.

The darker the sky,
the brighter the light,
for an otherworldly setting,
as colors merge and ignite
while they mix the palate again,
I am lost in silent reverie,
for the forces that dance there in that blackness,

Awe-inspiring,
breathtakingly beautiful,
alien,
frightening,
imparting comforting wisdom,
it is everything an so exciting,
and healing to your soul,
like a hauntingly familiar sound,
of
music to your ears.

moving like in an immensely,
active native conga,
while flitting eiree,
ghosts of glaciers perform,
when fueled folklore beckon,
swirling magic colors
in a perfect moving storm
these beauties from frozen skies,
spraying snow & tossing sparks,
as their created stars,
saturate the deep,
as their tears are shed,
in big butterfly kisses,

playfully floating,
in lovely little fine wisps,
of cirrus smudges of pure refractions,
bending in rarified veils of light,
into a seamless,
shimmering skyscape.

A hiding crystal clear,
deep Alice blue sky,
now fading,
as colors are now blending,
from azure into darkest denim,
then turning periwinkle,
stretching out,
into auroral archways,
dusted in a tangerine glow
in transitioning brushstrokes,
gently cover impressionistic sketches,
evolving into luminism,
on an endless open canvas.

As I paint the words,
where I sit there quietly,
respectfully awaiting answers,
as clouds and moonlight smear,
into watercolor scenery,
using up each angel tear
an intimate engagement occurs,
the passion of nature,
is sublime,
just perfectly,
these synchronized sky swimmers ,
becoming one

As a stormy sun is forcing,
red light dancers,
holding torches,
colliding and becoming excited,
edging themselves,
these powerful ominous portents,
becoming the framework.

Around a fantastic fluorescent show,
the cast wearing blushing pink,
and wild viola purples,
tinged in chartreuse green,
basking in beauty,
where hope lies,
in these colors I've never ever seen, since,
transcending skies of tomorrow,
into an age old masterpiece,
waiting patiently for this,
spiritual journey,
to begin,
with an eager & beautiful,
dawn coming.

Where the North winds,
send a brilliant light show,
of atomic wonders,
in watery pirouettes,
of shaped effects,
& teardrops sacrificed,
swirl in spirits of harmony,
completely memorizing,
I am transfixed,
an astonishing feat,
of brilliant pigments,
smudged into,
the mysterious lightness,
my drifters heart wanders,
melded into atmospheric colors,
we can only wish to see in this lifetime.

Where life seeds now
glide,
on the giving winds,
and Eagles and hawks can,
applaud this much beauty way up there.

This place,
a heavenly firmament,
where all the sacred souls come to die,
  where all the very, very, wise end up,
where they all spend their eternal lives,
young and old alike,
eventually they all retire here,
bringing us hope or warnings,
a chance at redemption,
striking hot iron in a glow,
metallic bits,
stars form,
restless,

Sighing, awaiting,
  a gifted chance to share with us,
along with all the parished,
souls and spirits,
playfully transforming,
from native garb,
mocassin covered feet,
change into favorite animals,
stomping on the colorful floor,
a great bear,
a wolf,
a beluga whale,
a soaring raptor,
not wanting for anything,
walking in Native American circles,
to the sounds of long silent drums,
morphing & shape shifting,

Again,
and again,
and again,
where rain shadows dance,
in ancient skies,
celestial bodies are illuminated,
reflecting the fire circles,
from where distant oceans shore,
take me there...ancestors
take me there once more,

As night slowly declines,
as daylight seeps through cracks,
bleeding into tomorrow,
to fly again to share what they must,
they pray and worship their God,
and they trust..

And Aurora Borealis is her name.

Cherie Nolan © 2016
Listen to Time to turn the tide by Millpond Moon  global warming is affecting this gift....writing this made me cry ....for our sacred Earth.  This is a meaningful piece I had to dig deep in old studies and in my beliefs this was BREATHTAKINGLY beautiful Aurora Borealis a few years ago. This is about stars, this place- Vermont, Heaven, angels and death or coming omens. Peace - Vermont
(I watched my video again in astonishment.)
I hope you all are well n happy. I'm OK....
 Jan 2017 GaryFairy
S S
Shimmers molten road
Still air squats, beads, on my brow
Summer road trip woes.

Seat turns to quick sand
Thighs stuck fast can move no more
Summer road trip woes.

Each breath sighs, heavy
Vapoured water chokes the air
Summer road trip woes.

No soul seen for miles
Gauge collapses on empty
Woeful road trip end.
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