Thursday, December 6, 2018

Mystical Ecology

A poem exactly how it was to live in Georgia on November 25, 2018, which was a very eerie night to say the least. Below you will find pictures of fairies I took that night in the trees. The first picture I took, I thought, "Wtf?" So, I took another picture seconds later and it cleared up immediately. When I got home and zoomed in, I realized I had photographed a lot of faires, if not hundreds. I was so happy, I just said, "Thank you fairies, thank you." I always respect them and leave out a bowl of honey with cinnamon in it for their delights. Fairies are a part of the Earth, just as we are.

The fog brewed
Densely overnight
Hindering my sight
Just beyond my face
While the coyotes
Are treading near
Calculating
The paw prints
To nip at my ankles


The big brown bat
Flies low, straight as an arrow
Cutting through the mist
Echolocation on high alert
His primal priorities configured
Sixty seconds ahead
Of my dirty windshield


Down the road
Not even a mile
An English manor sits
Nestled upon the edge
Of a redneck populace
Isolated and displaced
Upon a pompous pond
The dead crawl ever so slowly
Out of their murky graves
Remnants of a bygone era


Tis Georgia now
A fairytale’s dream
Even the mighty city
Takes heed
While the fairy doors
Mysteriously blossom forth
A golden miracle
Of glistening pixie dust
Strategically sprinkled
Throughout the metropolis
By curious fays disguised
In long woolen ebony capes ©

The Magical Caldera

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The odd ambiance about this night was there was a heavy fog, but no rain.



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Image may contain: sky, tree, night, outdoor and nature


Friday, November 2, 2018

Murder Was Your Name

I have many past lives, and this is one of them. I think the best thing to do in this situation is to realize a mistake and let go. It's not an easy task, especially when ancient spells were used to seal a bond, but I am always grateful for all the angels and spirits that look after me. The most mind-blowing validation occurred when I showed my mom a picture of the person I knew I had a past life with, and she said, "That looks like my ex-husband." and my cousin agreed. I had never seen a picture of him in my life, there is definitely something to genetic memory.


Blasting the music
As loud as I can
Neglecting you
Once again
It’s an easy choice now
Rummaging through memories
Gathering the evidence
And I wonder
How I ever allowed
Your soul to merge
Within mine


Your depression
Devours souls for lunch
Your illness
Evaporates life
Incredibly slow
Driving the barb deeper
A thorn unlike any other
And I wonder
If you ever once
Noticed your soul
In a scrying mirror
To understand
Who and what
You actually are?


It’s ok now
I broke free
No more mockery
From me
The best decision
I made possible
Out of all
The infinite dimensions
Of possibilities


Your betrayals
Echoed throughout all eternity
You’re the worst version
Of Judas Iscariot
Never realizing
The murders your actions
Caused


If ever you awake
May you relive
All the accumulated burdens
Of the horrific pain
You manifested
Within your family
Throughout all the immense
Reincarnated life times
You’ve amassed ©

Bound By Passion

Image result for scrying mirror



Friday, October 12, 2018

Compassion's Guidance

People tend to take circumstances out of context when they read poetry, but many times I, as a poet, never reveal too much about the events that created the poem in the first place. Compassion's Guidance was written out of sheer terror, not because I was afraid of a homeless person, but because shortly before that I was attacked by Brianna's father. I was pushed so hard I flew across the room and landed back first, at that moment I couldn't hardly breathe, and my skull cracked. When I helped the homeless person, it was a cry for help for both of us. I have been homeless before, and I just wanted to give the person some comfort and sustenance to get through the day considering how cold it was. Sure, I was living in an apartment, but it was a horror movie inside day and night. I honestly didn't want to be attacked again, and since I didn't know this person there was a real possibility of that happening in my mind; it was a simple test of trust in humanity. I hope where ever the person is that the individual survived the winter and stayed safe. Everyone complains about the South's heat that clings to you because of the high humidity, but people never really talk about the brutal winters and how it affects the homeless. Nor do they speak a word against the police that never arrest the abusers until someone is murdered; hence the new laws in Georgia protecting victims. My children and I are lucky we don't live in such an environment anymore, and we are thankful every single day.


Compassion’s Guidance

The sunless winter envelopes you
When you’re not looking
Clinging to you
With a remarkable reverence
Amid those long frigid nights
When once a homeless man
Cowered beneath
A solemn wooden gazebo
By a spooky fog laden lake
I would calmly look on
Through the midwinter chill
That cared not for whom it scorned
With a biting
Twenty degrees Fahrenheit

I pillaged
Through my cupboards
Of a quite barren kitchen
Searching for packaged food
Of any kind
That would warm a fruitless soul
With a foundation of hope
To cleanse away
The cobwebs of doubt

I warmed up
A huge bowl
Of spicy chicken soup
Laced with herbs
To pacify
The medicine woman within me
I sealed it with compassion
To keep it fresh and warm
Hoping Jack Frost
Would keep his curiosity
At bay

I made coffee
For no reason at two
On that very murky morning
I stuffed as much food
As I could
In an old grocery bag
Even some aspirin I think
In case the man had a cold
One five dollar bill
In case hunger captured his soul 

I wrapped up warmly
Without hesitation
I opened
My apartment door
So very quietly
I trudged down
The steep concrete slope
My heart palpitating
Bravely within my chest
For the first time
In a quite long while

I crept
Tiptoeing ever so gently
Afraid of stirring
The shivering vagabond
Sleeping
On an unyielding picnic table
Terrified of breathing too loudly
For fear he might wake up
And notice who I was

Softly
I place the goodies
Down right beside him
And he shifted just a bit
I never spoke a word
I didn’t think it necessary
I didn’t think it relevant
The importance I surmised
Was his survival
Of one more
Wind swept wintry day ©

Galactic Grande Dame

She wasn't the queen
I dreamt of no
She was far more
Than I ever knew existed
She was a matriarch
Of intergalactic beings
Of light and love
At the height
Of enlightenment
Guarded by angels
Day and night
To know her well
Is to be emerged
Among her thoughts
No mortal could withstand
Let alone understand

For she traveled
The multiverse
Even those nasty
Escher topsy-turvy
Dimensions of hell
Never fearing
What lies ahead
For her strength
Was unparalleled
An ambassador
To all she met

She was not made
As we are
Her birth began
From one solitary moment
Of a singularity
Deep within the confines
Of infinity's love
No stardust ever
Graced her genetics
No corruption was allowed
She was a magnification
Of the first signal
Ever sent out
A gentle heartbeat
Reverberating throughout
All of eternity's
Glorious existence ©

The Magical Caldera

Mental Illness Verses Bad Behavior

Please be aware that if you're a mental patient, it is just as hard for your loved ones to watch you deteriorate as is for you to have your illness. It's horrific and heartbreaking for everyone, so please respect your loved ones that go through this journey with you out of love.

Fact: If a mentally ill person's medications are working, and the person is treating you badly, call them out just like you would a normal person and don't be an enabler. There is a big difference between a mental episode and when meds are working. A mental illness doesn't give a person the right to behave hatefully, even a therapist will tell a patient their behavior is wrong; so, don't be an enabler; instead, have a conversation and talk about the issue.


And just so everyone knows, my daughter, Lily, and I go to therapy with Brianna so we can do our best to function as a family and understand one another; so yes, I know what I'm talking about.  

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Clandestine Realism

A classic seventies house
Engulfed within the valley
Converges
A lavish cocktail party
Drenched in liquor
Sourced from a tacky
Wooden globe bar
And paired oddly with
Sophisticated margarita glasses

Unexceptional this house is
With the exception
That unlike their
Suburbanite neighbors
Hidden behind
The dull wood paneling
Of this quaintly
Common abode
Is a secret passage
To a wondrous river
Flowing gently below
Gleaming
A metallic silvery blue
From a stargate's glow

If you happen to be awake
During the depths of night
You might witness
A gondola of passengers
From all the realms
Of the universe
From within
A brick tunnel
Camouflaged intrinsically
Underneath the house
Adorned with
The purest white roses
You've ever seen ©

Karen L. Fleming

I think I channeled the narrator from the Twilight Zone on this one. lol