.


In my dreams I am a warrior....Athena  on horseback.
Battle scarred yet with a quiet strength that burns within.
I am a white witch...arms outstretched as I dance beneath the saucer moon.
My lips moving in an incantation that will set me free.
The stars above the only witnesses as I relinquish all that does not serve me.
The manacles that bound in misery now rusted and useless.
Like a caged canary that at last  escapes its imprisonment from its human oppressor.
Wings flapping madly in a joyous first taste of freedom.
I am the water that once was murky and heavy with silt,
Now flowing free..crystal clear and pure.
The storm that has raged for a lifetime now calm..a gentle warm breeze.
The elements of nature stand beside me...my foot soldiers, guardians.
A reminder that I am not alone...
I am at last laid bare....canvas white and new....
The time is now.......let it go....

Songs of Oregon: No. 1 “Gonna Make You Crazy, That Place”

nuts, crazy peeps

whomever wherever,
regardless of race creed color or gender (did I get ‘em all?)
current state of residence (geo-identified)
a poem - the very same recited,
as a disclaimer, a yellow finger wagging warning:

“Don’t go! If you go, you won’t come back”

now kids, I’m a veteran of foreign travel,
many continents, cold and hot, rivers and seas,
some living, some dead,
some so big they named it Endless,
been to the great cities, Swiss villages,
pyramids, climbed Masada,
danced on grapes (why can’t I recall where)
skied the Alps, trekked the Sinai Desert,
clubbed in Rio, and danced till morn,
on a certain Greek Isle that rhymes with Mickey’s Nose
even been to L.A and San Fran, left poorer
but in sync,
always came home
with my mind decently reshaped

me/ a product of gritty unpretty grime,
streets of normal humans
acting like normal escaped mad persons,
this brutal city island instilled a
layer of fat and smog neath my skin,
a kind of migrating duck-like survival kit,
came with a homing beacon included

the those of you who know me,
perhaps too well, ken we citified islanders
love our beaches (fire hydrants)
cherish our sun dappled blessings
upon on farms (window sill herb gardens)
and sunning settlements (rooftops)

they say our tap water is secretly bottled,
sold in places where the springs purportedly
run crystalline

though we don’t got no pinot, just sweet concord grape,
so sweet, the wine of children and street nodders,
needy for instant sugar highs

so as we new Yorkers proudly
say on our license plates,
prove it or stfup!

so a first hand investigation for which
the taxpayers won’t be charged even a lousy mill,
deemed necessary to put to rest this crazy claiming warning

“Don’t go! If you go, you won’t come back”

guessing must be something in the water and the wine

In the stillness of the dark
I sit,
And outside my window
The night holds many possibilities.
People move within the shadows
Barely visible to the naked eye
Living shadow lives alongside my own.

Do we dream together?
And will love survive death?

I see you
In different times
Living different lives
And myself as a shadow
Living my own shadow life.

He saved her life. But it was a long time ago…
People were just shadows. Every moment was filled with longing for the lost presence. She has always wanted to stop time. Everything was just a mirage of a changing consciousness. She wasn't sure whether the surrounding reality exists. She felt like a spider tangling a net of events. Among whispers, glances and voices she created fictitious worlds. Every word was a story. The moment reminded her of a river of childhood. She waded in the water like a heron. The water was calm, clear as a mirror. Everything was possible. The boundary between childhood and adulthood did not exist. She has always lived in a world of dreams. Mother told her to keep her feet on the ground.
-Life is a way-she remembered her mother saying it-people can change it and make You happy-there are many ways that You can choose, but it’s not always Your way of life, sometimes You can wander and return, the way can be far away, but it’s worth to fight for Your dreams, always cherish yourself and don’t give up
She liked to listen to the sounds of life. Existence seen through the mirror was falling apart to pieces. The shapes seemed unreal, immersed in a pure form, without beginning and end. It was closed in the microcosm of her visions.
She wanted to spread out wings and fly away, look at life from a distance. Mother, father, family, it was the world that ensures peace, time was playing her like a doll in spite of passing…
She has always wanted to see him once again and thank him for everything: a new life, friends, family and a helping hand…
Suddenly she saw the light. She listened intently to the melodies of existence woven of the finest matter and dreams. Place where you can immerse yourself and observe the surrounding reality. Light and darkness, colour and sound, everything was repeatable, reflecting the circle of life.
She met him again.
-J. is that You?
The cry of her son has interrupted her musings. Life has come back to normal.
She was happy.