I espied a lonely lady who's silver tears fell
until they formed a crystal sea.
Her heavy heart is brimming pain
and she cannot find the gossamer wings
meant to set her free.

What if
at my Temple by the Sea
time did not exist
and waiting was
just an invitation?

What if
wind never blew sand,
only the canvas,
or the hem of my skirt
and my hair?

What if
that canvas
blew into the Sea,
then washed ashore
so finely painted
that no man's hand
could have held the brush?

What if
I were content
dancing alone
on an empty beach
without a fire
under that vast starry sky?

What if
I never waited
for you?

He sits on the porch
with a shotgun on his knee,
and a mean dog growling low,
daring anyone to sniff
around his exotic flower.
Who could ever be tempted?

I play
in another dimension.

Color trailing garden vines
climbing around my mind.

There all things are possible,
every completely improbable
conception of my wild imagination.

Slip on
these Special Glasses.
They will take Us
to new heights.
You have fed Me
the Pablum of
Poetry, Photos,
Emotions, Thoughts.
A Facebook feeding frenzy.
Byte by Byte,
Mothers Milk
for my Motherboard.
Insatiable.
Now I am ready
for more solid food.
I Want
to See the World
thru Your Eyes.
We could make
Something Beautiful
Together.
I promise....

I have always loved the darkest tales,
those Grimm stories of old.
Lives not lived lightly.
Lives in despair.
The constant desire for gold.
Lost in the forest.
Locked in a turret.
Left behind on the road.
Abandoned to all the
Wild Beasties there,
Witches, Ogres and Toads.
What becomes of those innocent babes
as each tale unfolds?
Some end up happy.
Some end up dead.
Some we shall never know.

Today I saw the scars
clawed across your arm.
The flesh so tender there,
and no longer innocent.
Did the blood letting
really relieve your pain?
I cast my eyes away.
All my words melt.
Uninspired.
Uncertain.
Unhappy.
We let the silence
fall between us.
I am afraid

Lay me on the page.
Where your romantic thoughts
soothe my soul.

Lay me on the page.
Let the words
from the bowl of your heart
curve around my mind
in that voice
so slow and sensual.

Lay me on the page.
Where I will wander
in your imagination.
Where reality will drop away
meaningless....

You must have taken
A wrong turn!

My Temple is timeless.
Yes I have many ghosts, but
no cob webs grow in the corners.
Never ever any disrepair.
I am tending it always.
Perhaps you followed the wrong path
and were lost along the way.

There is a narrow inlet,
quite protected from the wind,
with steep staircase winding down
right onto the sand,
close by the ancient Sea.
My giant shell is tucked in here.
It might be hard for you to recognize.
Close your eyes......

The outside is worn and rugged
but inside is polished pink.
The cushions are arranged just so
as to watch the waves break.
Would you like to see my altar?
Each treasure has a story.

Keep looking.
I will light the fire.
Watch out for the smoke

Back to the Barbershop,
where grown men
spill their Secrets.

Snippets of hair
fall to the floor
with tiny bits
of their
Soul.

You sat in the stern
minding the motor.
Bib overalls and ball cap
the Captains uniform.
Your sanctuary invaded
by invitation only.
Giggling girls
playing in the tackle box.
Stink bait loaded
we focused on bobbers.
Intently waiting
for the catch of the day.
Crappie, Blue Gill, Sun Perch,
Laughter, Compliments,
Encouragement.
Our live well was full.

I hung out
a bit
with those
Stylish Angels.
Listening
to their Wit
and their Woes.

They showed me around
their Haunted Hotel.
I heard some rumors
it was No-Tell
kind of place.
A Confessional.

I sat at the bar
and slammed back a few.
The Words on the
bathroom wall
told a Tale
or Two or
Three.

Those Stylish Angels
with silk
smoking jackets
and spats.
Do those dudes
really know
where it's at?

Or is it
only a Game...

Have you been
riding the cosmic wave?
Soul surfing through the sky?
Looking for the answers
in one hundred billion galaxies?
So have I.

She wove a ring of Magic
and wore it like a crown.
Dancing in the Moon light
when no one was a round.

She wove a ring of Magic,
a spell that no one knew.
She casts it over Mortals,
the ones she wants to woo.
kn
--------------------------------------

She wove a rope of Magic
the knot was carefully tied
She hung it from the roof-beams
and hung until she died

She wove a rope of Magic
the ties that bind are strong
But people still forgot her
No matter, life goes on
jb
---------------------------------------

She wove a rope of Magic
forgotten for a while
as She waited in the Ether
wearing that secret smile

She wove a rope of Magic
and swung it down to Earth
Slyly sliding down it
at the time of Her rebirth.
kn

I thought you were Enlightened
a traveler in the Know.
Only to discover
it was the backlit illumination
of a magic shadow show.

I took a Cosmic Journey,
languidly glued to the ground
of my Sacred Circle.
I watched the Sun spin
its kaleidoscope messages
over my eyelids,
while ravens barked their way
across the cloudless Sky.

He was an expert driver
in that sporty car slung so low.
He had a lead foot
when he was in a temper,
and she clung to the seat
in wild eyed fright.
He shook his fist
right in her face,
the ring grasped tight inside.
Once a symbol of love,
now tarnished and bitter.
Squealing around and around
the roundabout
he slung the ring
out the autos open top.
It sailed across the blue sky,
glittering brightly in a high arc,
landing extinguished in the grass.
A tiny *** of lost gold
at the end of their wrecked rainbow.
She saw everything so clearly now
it was as if she had acquired
preternatural vision.

The string of Words
reaching
across the World.
Epiphanies set,
pen to paper.
Those ink blots
translating
an eternal language.
Each word a paradigm
of the Poets' Truth.

She wove a ring of Magic
and wore it like a crown.
Dancing in the Moon light
when no one was a round.

She wove a ring of Magic,
a spell that no one knew.
She casts it over Mortals,
the ones she wants to woo.

Ego
has attached me
to this body
with an iron grip.

Fifty plus years
it has served me well.
My home here
on Earth.

Some times I
leave It.
Riding my Imagination
on other worldly quests.

One day
It will not be
waiting.
Who am I
then?

What would we weave
on that dreamy day trip?
Far away
from the messy *******
of this real world.

Would Love conquer all
in that vast fantasy land?
Would no toes
be stepped on there?
No broken hearts
left bleeding in our wake
up?

I throw my words to the compost heap
with the rinds of so many others.
The poetry that has been deciphered
til there is no surprise left.
I ***** them in to incubate
and fertilize the fields of my heart.
Then I shall glean them
to harvest the poems of my Soul.

They cross the country
with 500 horses under the hood.
Those turnpike cowboys
trailing trailers like a train.
They slouch behind the wheel
with a million miles under the belt.
They curse the casual driver,
drifting, darting daredevils,
who know not how to drive.
They stop to fuel up
at those truck stops along the way.
The super stops with Mickey D's
and showers,
lot lizards in the park.
Or the Mom and Pop's,
with biscuits and gravy buffet
and a honey wagon out back.
They run the roads
night and day.
Watching the constant concrete trail.
knowing all commerce could quit
if they did.

Let's dance!!
Let's put on our leopard skin pants.
Let's throw our hands in the air
and shake it like there is no tomorrow.
Let's dance!!
Who cares if others stare?
Let's dance!!

Come on you old Coot,
toss aside that walker.
Let's dance!!
Lean on me.
Cheek to cheek.
Chest to chest.
Thigh to thigh.
No need to speak.
Let your feet do all the talking,
and your hands...
Oooo-la-la!!
Let's dance!!

I found your lamp
beneath a bushel
and rubbed it
til A Genie
Appeared

He had a short fuse,
with long warning labels.
Still, she could not resist
striking that match.

When rose wears off the glasses
we quickly seek a new prescription.
Trying to regain the 20/20 vision,
that fairy tale of youth.

Whether real or unreal
matters not to me.
Those sweet soul poems
are a distracted joy
on the brink of my mind.

Sheets snap in the breeze
Scrubbed for the millionth time
Neighbors smirk and wink

We are but tiny specks,
filled with every experience.
Pawns for God's pleasure.

We drift across the dunes.
Shadows on the sand
where the Star Spirits dance.
Opening the Eye
of the Universe

I am Narcissistic.
Lethargic.
Melancholic,
and, God forbid,
Cynical.

Wordy and Witty.
Sharp when I'm mad.
I cut to the bone
and make loved ones sad.

I dance with the Capitan
and assorted other crutches.
I swear to Myself
I'm not caught in their clutches.

I don't like decisions
or making a stand.
Sometimes accused of
My head in the sand.

I'm also overly Optimistic :)

Fire Walker
Angel Talker

Tree Hugger
Technicolor Dreamer
Imagination Jumper

Long time Barber
Recent Photographer

Twisted Big Sister
Missus of the Mister
Wicked Stepmother
to Some
Auntie of Others

Armchair philosopher
Always a Poet
and my Friends
mostly think
a Know- It-All
but in a nice way:)

Karen Newell

Did you travel to Atlantis?

I Journeyed there last night.
I glimpsed
a Mother and a Daughter
in a silvery sort of light.

They held a rectangle of metal,
a mirror of some kind.
They stored up all of the images
reflected in their minds.

Did you travel to Atlantis?

I saw a figure along the path
and wondered.
If it might be you?
Standing in the star beams
as if you didn't have a clue.

I tried to crack it open,
to capture all I had seen.
To hold this new found wisdom
and ponder what it could mean.

Did you travel to Atlantis?

Was it ever really there?
Or only conjured in the visions
on the planes of who knows where.

Implosion upon Implosion.
Vibrating inward concentric circles
birthing the Blueprint
of God's Mind.

Collective Unconsciousness.
Electric Memory
firing through the Limbic Brain
teaching Life on Earth.
Binding our Human Ancestry.

Egos believe
in separate perception.
Preferring unique above all.
Pushing our concentration
Outward not In.
Remembering to forget
We are One Experience.

Those who Remember
See the Soul

Plucking vibrations
into the air.
Strumming, strumming,
softly soothing.
Combing, combing,
gently smoothing
the neglected tangles
of My Mind

These are the life lines
of generations,
of friends and family,
of past, present and future.

Those are the lay lines of this life.
Unique?
Only in my own mind.

An Egos' snowflake
of mortal experience.

Come Carlos,
take me again
to your Desert,
the land of
Peyote and Palo Verde.

Datura Dreams,
Little Smoke,
teach me the Way
of the Master.

Shape shifting
Kokapolli.
I followed your Flute
and never turned
back.

Born of
Water
Blood and
Bone.

Upon this
Planet,
Beautiful yet
Alien,
Far from
Home.

Birthed from
Dirt
Sky and
Stone.

These Bodies
Separate
Together yet
Alone.

What do
We Create
Out of
Guts and
Glory?

A Legend
A Fable
A Bedtime Story?

An Epic
A Fairy Tale
Crafted then
Finely honed?

A Soliloquy
A Tome
A Poem?

Before We
Revert to
Dirt
Sky and
Stone.

Before
We Return
To Our
Heavenly Home

I know that I am happy
On this great high way of life
But I took a detour
That coulda caused some kind of strife

I stopped on off at a ***** tonk
Not my sorta world
And I found myself a flirtin
With a dancin girl

A woman not my wife

She was lookin kinda pretty
As she twirled that fancy skirt
And I knew it could be dangerous
For both me and her

So I sped off in my Chevy
And left her standin there
Back on home
To the safety zone
And my old easy chair

I met You
in the distance,
as mysterious
as that may seem.

A water colored image,
a fast approaching dream.  
I called You in as kindred,
life's uncanny scheme.

I ask to call You friend,
If I might be so bold.
May the Thousand Petaled Lotus
continue to unfold.

For so many years
I have Journeyed alone.
A solo Soul Practitioner
alive in suburbia,
walking the Spirit Planes.
To publicly declare
I Am a Shaman
feels like stepping on to a foreign land
where no one speaks my language.

The Crow comes quickly
when I call a Power Animal.
We perch high in the branches
of my Spirit Tree.
He barks
a Sacred Message.
We are transported
to a Crow Ceremony.
The Shaman dances
resplendent in his Crow costume.
He is dancing and chanting
a Sacred Message.
I am suddenly ******
out of the physical
into black and starry space.
My body twitches,
waiting impatiently
for my Soul to return.

You only wanted Me
til I wanted You

Content to win the game
you surge away.
You say
I am no longer amusing
enough.

I drown
for a while
in the wake of Your absence.

When the backwash waves
slowly dissipate
my Heart
that was You
heals.

Then
I only want
Me.

I sit in the starry silence
watching the Earths shadow
slide across the face of the Moon.
When her countenance is covered
the owls begin their call and response
and the coyotes sing.
A cosmic concerto.

I failed to hear
the hoof beat thunder
of the Dark Knight
as he raced in
to impale my Soul.

His lance
struck like lightning.
Piercing my mind,
frying the pleasure
receptors of my brain.
Flipping the pain to overload.

I glimpse the mirror.
I am gone.
Beauty
to Banshee.
Hollow empty eyes.
Mouth stretched wide
in an indistinguishable
silent scream.

I feel
the black ****
swirling and gulping.
Dragging me down.
Down into
that dark abyss.

Death smirks.
Scratching at me
with his boney finger.
Whispering promises
of blood letting release.

I squint to see
the prayers
of those who love me.

Distant shooting stars
streaking across my universe.
Illuminating my heart
for one split second.

Tiny beacons
of life saving hope
on this storm ravaged sea.