Famous Poets


“TRULY INCESTUOUS, LICENTIOUS, IMMATURE AND INAPPROPRIATE!?!” a poem Tuesday: January 15, 2019 [with apologies and thanks to Edgar Allan Poe]

Once upon a psychic reading, Edgar CAYCE* uttered greeting – to-the-ones who-are-truly-“riled,” by-(what-some-call)- “inces-tuous-activity,”
For-there-are-mothers, doing laundry – and cooking meals, while in-a-quandary – about-whether-“Junior” should be exiting, exiting! for all to see!
“Here I am now, with my laundry – to-escape some destiny!? Yet, (I’m)-still-in-“the-nest,” (pause) quite happily!”**

CAYCE said: “Sometimes, we tarry, and sometimes-caring’s-necessary – when time-has established that most women – like-to-keep-children “on their knee.”
So, sometimes THIS THING – is appropriate – and touch can be a potent opiate! I know it sounds a little strange – (pause) and-to-some: (pause) bizarre-ish-ly,
BUT(also)-bizarre-to-judge-group-dynamic and-to-do-it with-such certainty – Especially-coming-from – a-non-mommy!

So, yes (I know) I’m often hearing: That mom’s got (my) laundry, but I’m NOT reeling – over-all the-inadequacies -that-this-situation-might- just- “hatch”-in-me,
For-over all, there-are-ills prevailing? – preventing-some-ships-from-easy-sailing, BUT I-CAN’T imagine re-pri-manding Mom – for acting as Queen Bee!!
For a matriarch – is sure to park – Herself ever-joyfully,
When-she-find-eth-stove-or-washer – (pause) sitting by too casually!

What’s appropriate? Well, I don’t know! and! The longer that I “kinda” grow, I-am-convinced that moms-and-women – like to stand, quite silently,
At The Door – and wait for Buddy, to depart, so they so bloody, “Breach the walls!” and head for laundry – to-deposit – lovingly!!
A violation? Oh, maybe! (pause) But I will offer sparingly: A STAY! from any rude conviction – Judgment? I shall let-it-be!

And-I-think-that-women – going-to-Heaven, Carry with them – clothes and leaven, Hoping THERE, that-they-can-wash &-cook-&-sew-&-glow-with-glee,
And CRITICISM? Probably NOT, for any times that Sonny brought, DIRTY LAUNDRY – in for mommy, so she-could spend-time “on-her-knee!”
We all have “rolls” and some are frowned-on, such-as-“cin-namon!” maliciously! And some folks raise their eyebrows high and-critically-mutter: “Golly gee,

She spends such-time-in-the-laundry room, And in the kitchen – or at the loom, Doing housework ALL THE TIME (?) – yet SINGING! Oh, so merrily!”
There’s criticism here we see, from wayward daughters, who spitefully – Content that MOM! should “give it up,” and-just-say:”Sonny-you’re-NOT-wee!”
And, IF they don’t – is something wrong? Well, I guess, to-some – It-is-clear-ly, A-violation of-some-law! which SHOULD-BE-SET – in a-hurry!

But-perhaps-“incestuous”-belongs-with-HER, who-wants-to-“mommy”-her-chosen-“cur,” And wash his shirt with angel soap – because a smudge or two we see;
Yeah! I-know! I’m quite a dope – and – without-mommy, I-can-not-cope, BUT! “mean” it seems to me it be, to-be-such-a-critic – of-mommy,
When she has lived for many years – and, through those years, so steadfastly, She has-maintained-and-done-some-cleaning, helping-her-children, lovingly!

And now!-somewhat-older – and fairly-frail, and, in-her-“twilight,” her baby male, Wishes-comfort-for-her – for-her-soul and-mind – and bent bod-y,
And-it’s-sometimes-hard, to-tell-how-to-love-her, And express (for her) a tender cover! Perhaps it’s weak- to-tenderly, maintain-such-an-attitude – endlessly,
But years rush-on! I-am no wiser, but I-think things-go-by quite-swiftly, And most days now, with-mum-and-pop – I-consider-things – quite-gratefully!

fin. <3

* – a person who, in the 1900’s, acted as a “Channel” for health and spiritual information, which he supposedly received from “sources on The Other Side!”

** – some older children return to their homes, to assist their parents as they become older and might need some special assistance! It is called: “Care-taking!”

Famous Poets


“X FACTOR!” a poem January 13, 2019 – Sunday

CREATIVITY glides; creativity flows;
Creativity’s “a-loose-cannon” and really never knows,
What’s coming next, but is OK with that,
And DOES have structures, within-a-mobile-“flat!”

It recognizes schedules that others like to follow,
But doesn’t (always) conform; it’s-a-bullet that is hollow,

& bounces around, skipping over hurdles,
Wondering what’s next – and watching all the turtles,

Conform to rigid scheduling, for-the-sake of the mundane,
& gets criticized a bit – for being a-little “insane!”

You don’t know where it comes from, so it is unexpected,
But – within – its shadow – – – KINGDOMS ARE ERECTED,

And then destroyed – and it don’t care,
And-it-is demonized, for being too bare,
And a little too wild – and sorta rude,
Although it doesn’t intend to be vile or crude!

Censors approach it, with torches en masse;
They wanna break the castle walls – and kick it in the ass,
And scream: “YOU CAN NOT DO THAT!” &-then-comes-its-reply:

“Have a wonderful day, y’all! Never ask me WHY!”

A little structure’s good, but-structures-are-like-The-Shabbat:
When you totally conform to them, you lose your clever Hobbit,
Who eats – food – when-he can – the kind that tastes so sweet,
And GIGGLES with excitement, at things that seem so neat,
But holds no nasty grudges and doesn’t wear a frown,
And doesn’t care about results – for-he offers you his crown,
‘Cause He don’t wanna rule – and don’t like to keep tabs,
And rather likes to walk around, rather-than-taking cabs,

But – easy does it – to-not burn out, and profiles are best kept LOW!
Take care of yourselves, Good Friends – and don’t put on a show!*

* – except when you do! fin <3

Famous Poets Letter To My Husband

(An Oath wrtitten during the Dawn Meditation)

(An Oath wrtitten during the Dawn Meditation)

Aiwaz! Confirm my troth with thee ! my will inspire
With secret sperm of subtle, free, creating Fire!
Mould thou my very flesh as Thine, renew my birth
In childhood merry as divine, enchenated earth!
Dissolve my rapture in Thine own, a sacred slaugther
Whereby to capture and atone the soul of water!
Fill thou my mind with gleaming Thought intense and rare
To One refined, outflung to naught, the Word of Air!
Most, bridal bound, my quintessentil Form thus freeing
From self, be found one Selfhood blent in Spirit Being.

Famous Poets

Watch out for power🤔

Watch out for power,
for its avalanche can bury you,
snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain.
Watch out for hate,
it can open its mouth and you’ll fling yourself out
to eat off your leg, an instant leper.
Watch out for friends,
because when you betray them,
as you will,
they will bury their heads in the toilet
and flush themselves away.
Watch out for intellect,
because it knows so much it knows nothing
and leaves you hanging upside down,
mouthing knowledge as your heart
falls out of your mouth.
Watch out for games, the actor’s part,
the speech planned, known, given,
for they will give you away
and you will stand like a naked little boy,
pissing on your own child-bed.

Watch out for love
(unless it is true,
and every part of you says yes including the toes),
it will wrap you up like a mummy,
and your scream won’t be heard
and none of your running will end.

Love? Be it man. Be it woman.
It must be a wave you want to glide in on,
give your body to it, give your laugh to it,
give, when the gravelly sand takes you,
your tears to the land. To love another is something
like prayer and can’t be planned, you just fall
into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.

Special person,
if I were you I’d pay no attention
to admonitions from me,
made somewhat out of your words
and somewhat out of mine.
A collaboration.
I do not believe a word I have said,
except some, except I think of you like a young tree
with pasted-on leaves and know you’ll root
and the real green thing will come.

Let go. Let go.
Oh special person,
possible leaves,
this typewriter likes you on the way to them,
but wants to break crystal glasses
in celebration,
for you,
when the dark crust is thrown off
and you float all around
like a happened balloon.

Famous Poets

Black Desire

“REMISSION!” a poem, dedicated to: Rachel Taylor, singer/songwriter extraordinaire! a.k.a.: “One Heart!” 11/26/18 – Monday

It’s a roller-coaster-ride, this game of life;

It’ll rock ya – and “real” ya, but, in-the morning light,

When you finally-reach (pause) The Break of Day,

And-you’re-groggy – and dreamy, I-hope you’ll say:

“I can do another! Just gotta-‘wake-up,’

I-know-I’m-in-remission!” [Ask-your-coffee-cup]

“Is it worth-the-effort – to keep on going!”

“Yes!-you’re-rich-and-dark (pause) and-seeds,* we’re-sowing,

And-we’ll-inspire – The-World – to-make the FLIP,

And, it’s true – each-one-of-us – may-be-just-a-blip,

On The Screen of Life, that seems so immense,

But each-blip-can-inspire – other blips off The Fence,

Of despair and lethargic – machination,

LOVE is contagious! And each generation,

Fights-for-its-life – to offer (all) the-rest

A chance to shine, despite any test!

So, I’m hanging on – with Rachel in the seat,

Of this roller coaster! She’s next to me,

And, together-we-can-turn – this bloody-life-around,

And discover One Heart! – where remission is found! 🙂

fin <3

* – coffee (and otherwise!)