GreenMan Mojo

Poem for Brigid

2009-02-02T21:19:00.000-08:00

Fingers flow
rippling low
& high
Breathings mingle
feathering in
& out &
oh
ah
oh
ah

oh

even more fugit-ing

2009-02-02T21:13:00.000-08:00

Optimistic, wasn't I?

Okay, the next one coming up is for the Brigid's Day Poetry Slam!

tempus fugit

2008-12-01T18:47:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I've let way too much tempus fugit by since the last time I updated my blog. So...post some more poems here before the end of the week. This week -- in 2008.

Poetic Resonance Imaging

2008-02-09T14:40:00.000-08:00

(for a friend getting an MRI)

May you resonate truly
under your magnetic halo,
each synapse firing
sizzling arcs of
memory, emotion, joy,
love, grace in motion

May the intricate pattern of
You grow, flower, thrive

May each lobe and quadrant
glow brightly, like
cities seen from space

...I wrote this a couple months ago for a friend who had major brain surgery 4 years ago, and marks the event every year by getting an MRI. Told her that this was not just a poem, but was also magic. Brain-magic. She laughed, and thanked me. Have another friend who's a physical therapist in the bay area. She asked if she could share it where she works; where she sees many patients needing MRIs and catscans. Hope it's working brain-magic there, too.

My poems are not

2008-02-02T21:21:00.000-08:00

My poems
are not
white rabbits
but long
lean hares
leaping electric
through creosote
while sleekly
sweating fear
and joy

Poetry for Brigid

2008-02-02T14:34:00.000-08:00

Your kiss
is
pomegranate-spiced
cinnamon bliss
a slippery electric bolt shooting
straight through my root
ohgod
and out my toes
ohyes
tongues darting and rolling and
tumbling and deliciously
echoing the very first one ever
the Big Bang kiss
and every one since
is
Your kiss

This poem was written for a great & wonderful friend, well-met on a Brigid's Day -- and for the thing itself - healing blazing whambam illuminating collision of lips & etc...

Yule Poem 2006

2007-01-02T15:45:00.000-08:00

I read this poem by firelight --- Yule loglight -- as two friends and I sat together in warmth and support and sealed & transformed our hopes, dreams, and goals for the returning of the light and the coming year...

Dark, Dark, Dark
(light)

In this darkest night,
breath frosted,
Great Wheel turning,
we give thanks for
the long night's passing
and look ahead to
the long light's rekindling
and heartfires burning.

In this darkest night
we commit to burn with
love boldness compassion,
and joy in the work
which tonight we transform
into light energy action,
to illuminate and speed
each step of our journey.

(dark, dark, dark)
LIGHT!

Rafting

2006-11-25T21:16:00.001-08:00

rafting the lava flow
incandescent fear
and bliss my
paddle a blowtorch
at both ends my hair
a comet's tail
I smile
into the inferno
and burn brightly

There's a Bigfoot in the Garden

2006-11-25T18:29:00.000-08:00

Didn't think the garden was that overgrown
but there he was,
hidden behind the sunflowers
and peering out
with a "who me?" look:

There's a Bigfoot in the garden.

Looking all raggedly shaggy
and Sasquatchy
smelling like moss
and the family dog
(who's upstairs hiding
in the girl's room).
How'd he get here?
Hitch-hiked?
Escaped from Bigfoot smugglers?
Hidden here by Greenpeace?
He's not talking.
Probably can't talk, though
he does sigh, grunt, and imitate
bird whistles and wolf calls.
Hell of a mimic.

The kids shared
their play-doh and
for each of them
he shaped a rabbit,
its fur incised
with a thick fingernail
and handed to each child.

Maybe we can teach him
how to mow the lawn,
though I wouldn't wish that job
on even a giant Hominid,
and he is doing a swell job
of keeping the garden fertilzied.

We've told the Home Owner's Association
that he's our autistic
nephew from Uzbekistan.
They're getting suspicious, but
still not sure how to deal
with a presumed-mythical
cryptozoological wonder
hiding out in suburbia.

They'll never take him, the bastards,
before that happens
we'll send him back out
somehow, on the
Bigfoot Underground Railroad
to the next friendly family
with an overgrown
backyard garden

It's been awhile

2006-11-25T18:19:00.000-08:00

It's been awhile since I last posted...am going to post a recent poem tonight, then keep posting regularly...

You, My Muse

2006-10-06T22:11:00.000-07:00

You, my muse
Opener of hidden doorways
lighting the path
loosing my tongue
and heart

Lightning strike to mind and spirit
freeing my hands
to draw the plans
and build the golden boat
sailing deeper into the Mystery of
You, my muse

--to my Muse

Singing in the wind

2006-10-05T15:52:00.000-07:00

Singing in the wind
atop the old hill fort
I bow to my
hidden audience

Walking in Mendocino

2006-09-26T16:12:00.000-07:00

Walking in Mendocino
I see my fellow Fair Folk
the travelers, the campers
woven among tourists
but who are not of them,
eating ice cream
drinking lattes
wine-tasting and
window shopping for
moondust and trilobites

In the ocean air we hear
witchy drums calling near yet
far, now a year away
We pause in the street
for a final sly wink
and a wave, then
slam inside our cars
and drive home

If I could grow a rose

2006-09-26T16:02:00.000-07:00

If I could grow a rose
as deep red as my heart's-blood
for every time my silence
pricked and hurt you
I would gather them up and
walk the moonlit labyrinth to
find you at its center
where I would lay the flowers
at your feet and kneel and with
my deepest heart's-breath say
Oh my lost love
I am sorry

In this equinoctial moment

2006-09-25T20:33:00.000-07:00

Light, Dark, Light
Dark, Light, Dark

In this equinoctial moment
breath suspended
the Great Wheel paused
we give thanks for
the long day's passing
and look ahead to
the long night's coming
and bonfires burning

In this brief timeless moment
we commit to burn with
boldness, love, compassion
and joy in the work on
each step of the journey
that begins tomorrow

Dark, Light, Dark
Light, Dark, Light

In the Quiet Hour

2006-09-24T20:03:00.000-07:00

In the quiet hour
I lean into your
heartbeat's deep well
and make a wish
that no thorned thickets will
prolong your slumber
and that my kiss
will awaken you
and me
when morning comes

Burning passionately

2006-09-20T20:02:00.000-07:00

Burning passionately
my fire launches
sparks at the moon

Your Kiss Is

2006-09-19T14:52:00.000-07:00

Your kiss
is
pomegranate spiced
cinnamon bliss
a slippery electric bolt shooting
straight through my root
ohgod
and out my toes
ohyeah
tongues darting and rolling and
tumbling and deliciously
echoing the very First One ever
the Big Bang Kiss
and every one since
is
Your kiss

--for the pomegranate spiced kisser

Sailing in deep seas

2006-09-17T21:42:00.000-07:00

Sailing in deep seas
under the moon
the ship
sings to itself

Bardic Stone

2006-09-17T14:35:00.000-07:00

Bardic stone
Oracular granite
Runed eloquence
A long reply
to my brief question

Stumbling Gently Over

2006-09-15T17:23:00.000-07:00

Stumbling gently over
your thoughts I
reach and retrieve them
then listen intently
while before my eyes
your world
flows and flowers
shouts laughs
whispers explodes
and cries
into my world

--for Thalia

Letting my hands remember

2006-09-14T20:02:00.000-07:00

Letting my hands remember

I sculpt her

absent body in the air

(for BWW)

Aquamarine Instructions

2006-09-13T21:24:00.000-07:00

These instructions appear in shades of green, malachite, olive, moss, emerald, verdigris, forest, grass, jade, lime, avocado, vert, viridian, and aquamarine

One: Imagine you are standing in the heart of a great glowing world-girdling forest. Close your eyes and listen.

What do you hear?

Two: On this occasion you find yourself landlocked in stone in the city. Granite, steel, onyx. Somewhere, you know, is a park, an oasis. Respite. Close your eyes and sniff the hint of breeze.

Where do you find it?

Three. Now you are in your garden. A humming fills your ears. Your heart is tugged by growth and decay and change and growth again. Buried in the garden is its green heart which will reveal the alchemy of the growing world. Close your eyes, plunge your hands deep into the moist soil.

Where do you find it?

Four. Suddenly you are standing on a tor, an island in a sea of green grass. A friend is there with you. Cupping your hands, he paints in them a spiralling web of lines overlapping, interweaving, connecting, coiling, flowering, growing, decaying, and growing again. In a deep green voice he speaks to you. Close your eyes and listen.

What does he say?

Welcome

2006-09-13T21:04:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my blog -- GreenMan Mojo! More, much more, is coming...