Culture & Art Daily Life Ethnic Lore Poetry

Ideas 💡 [Poem]

Things change and our lives are dynamic.
Ideas come and go, what stays with us,
Are pieces of the whole diamond of mind.
We move the experience into way,

Traditional. On the flow of breath we,
Discover our presence. Glimpse of now.
The night wind, its visions and our sky.
Black Phoebe sings its nest by the water.

The visiting concepts of creation,
Heralding their appeal of completion.
Dapper wings fly visions in our minds.

Hunches and inklings going about us,
Like chirping birds, knowing each tune they sing
To notice neat words, which are simply liked.

Buddhism Ethnic Lore Family & Community Poetry Psychology Social Issues Women's Affairs

Three women [Poem]

I have a person doing work for me.
A deep spiritual, religious work.
I suffer less from the pain of hatred,
Of my beget, because this person cares,

About me. When will I see the face of,
My saviour? It takes an inordinate,
Amount of pain to keep the beget out,
Of my place. To have decent place to live.

We must put ourselves in difficult,
Circumstances to educate beget.
Oh my good God, an abominable,

Pain, she is greedy and irrational.
We both want to be free, so my helper
Can help me with ease. Is she leaving me?

Ethnic Lore Judaism Musings Poetry Social Issues

The unshushable [Poem]

Well I am a Jew and not practicing. 
Go out and tell people some truth today.
Now Feel free in your expression people, 
‘You are a loser’ it is okay Jude

Hand out truth to people like you mean it.
I am not talking about myself here, 
Oh no, I won. Truth is victorious.
I have nothing to worry about boy.

Friends are at my table. Care amongst us.
Glasses clinking, French wine pouring, sipping,
Run your finger around the rim, tap your,

Cutlery on the glass, unshushable,
Conversations, expressions, honesty.
Jude you left yourself out with your envy.

Culture & Art Ethnic Lore Family & Community Happiness Life & Death Poetry Politics Shamanism Social Issues Women's Affairs World Matters

Bad choices [Poem]

Industrial revolution was much.
Colonization wasn’t next good theme.
We are fascinated with ourselves.
And we do not know how to globalize.

Let’s elevate the native consciousness, 
Of native people above our own.
In this country, this was their land, home, light.
Native people have their way of whole life. 
We do not see or think about strangers,

As a family. For a while. To be.
Then again when we look at histories, 
Our European lands left behind, 
We used to think this way, long long ago;
We used to do all business on friendship.

Native Earth ways were our tradition.
Today we are disconnected and lost.

Culture & Art Ethnic Lore Musings Poetry

New Moon 🌚 [Poem]

City at night, bright lights disperse darkness.
Cars with red and white bright and changing light.
The scene illuminated, darkness cut.
By light, light brings in bright, clear, certain glow.

Glow moves with the subject through the dark night.
Bright lights will blind eyes in vivid darkness.
The glow fills the darkness, it disappears.
Light reaches deeply into the shadows.

Magically darkness reflects brightness.
Few colours of light in the art of dark.
Surfaces disappear in the darkness.

Darkness hides our shadows and good sight.
With the bright lights on, we move on quickly.
Light changes us and darkness of the night.

Animals Environment Ethnic Lore Nature Poetry Shamanism

Grass and rain [Poem]

The rains will come to refresh our land.
Grass washed in the rain water is happy,
Melodious winds blow through the grass fields,
Above sky has its own activity;

Missing the busy lives of small beings,
Living in the grass fields invisible.
Light sparkles in wet drops of rain water,
Reflecting blades of glass, I wonder what,

They say to each other. Slithering snake,
In her way knows the grass and what she holds.
Green wet blades of grass bending to pressure;

Do not break, they resiliently rise;
Up on their own time, sometimes to the sun.
Other times to each other or the stars.

Discussion Ethnic Lore Poetry Poetry Study Social Issues Women's Affairs World Matters

We all see [Poem]

There are those people who think,
That you need to think that they don't care,
About what good you do. Hmmm.
They really do not want you to know,
In their collectives they hate.
Who do they hate? You, the happy ones.
They are happiness haters.
Indeed it's true.
Such a horrible thing to do.
They analyze the good things we do.
This is true.
They plan to hate politely.
Isn't this insane?
Should we say more things about this folk?
I think we all need to.
Today I will say, hate is not fine art.
Analysis Ethnic Lore Poetry Politics Religious Studies Social Issues Women's Affairs World Matters

Mystics [Poem]

The secret empowering. History.
Countering main stream culture attitudes.
The underground movements in many sites.
We all came out of our suffering.

Sending a lucid message to the world;
Numbers; Peaceful revolutionaries.
Good Goddess! What have we gone through to gain,
Our voices in the world. What sorrow!

In us we carry a knowledge of what,
Is right. It is in everything we do,
Even in the wrong things. It is just there;

In the world. We worry about the world.
We are right in our thinking to go
against the violence in clever ways.

Buddhism Dzogchen Poetry Reincarnation

A difficult companion [Poem]

Grief is a very hard friend to go hand,
In hand with. Sadness creeps in and when you, 
Don’t want has much to remind you of what,
you already know. My man I am grief,

Stricken by grief over our loss of 
Your life. My friend you were my Father it, 
is deeply hurtful to not see your face.
My friend so intelligently you moved, 

To live by the sea, your loss is daily,
felt and the three of you remain etched on,
my mind. I cry and I mourn you. Grief is.

A painful teacher and time is ticking.
A responsibility is in us.
A a ha sha sa ma. And then there is.

Environment Nature Poetry Shamanism World Matters

Earth Day 🌳 2021

Green in your cycles,
Roll gracefully your waters
We help with prayer.

Dzogchen Poetry Women's Affairs World Matters

A poetic mind [Poem]

Extracted from the experience of,
Life are words of poetry. Hmm. They do,
Trouble the thinking of a discussion.
Poets can write about anything and;

A poet will write of what is to them
significant. Hmm. How now is that so,
Egotistical. I love that we can
be this way. This is extremely funny.

The problems of this world are indeed big.
The topics are finite, a certain way.
It becomes a matter of how your mind;

Moves. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. You need to
never want to impress anyone. Yes!
Conflicts of the world will look at you then.

Poetry Social Issues

To the inner bright light in you [Poem]

My child you are looking in a wrong place,
For the very thing you don’t understand. 
Knowledge isn’t given to everyone.
I don’t speak to those who are interested.

I speak to those who dismiss this fully.
Annoyingly pursuing what isn’t,
Yours for curiosity in a wrong, 
Name of religion. That is abuse, no;

Matter how you want to twist it in you.
Some will stare at a face of a teacher,
And never get a grace to understand.

Now Religion is to keep its secrets.
A life is a measure and a frame you,
Are the one making choices about who?

Catholicism Dzogchen Ethnic Lore Judaism Poetry Women's Affairs

More on light [Poem]

Sparkle beams are playing on everything;
It’s fun to watch and study light refract,
From the surface of everything around.
Like a shimmy touches a tiny piece

Of anything it explores, the objects
With an attitude collaborate and,
Shimmer is an answer from the surface.
Sometimes a blink of a light from something,

that would not bling bling at us otherwise,
Is a sign that we all belong to light.
Through the day light change our shades and at,

night you hide inside. Sun is occupied.
Everyday it does its job and complains
about it’s work, who knows of that? We know.

You can listen 🎧 to More on light [Poem]

Buddhism Catholicism Culture & Art Ethnic Lore Judaism Poetry Women's Affairs

A cosmic beam [Poem]

I took a glance, what do I see; the dust
is settling on you; for me to clean.
I noticed the weave of the tight fabric
around you, you mostly wear one outfit.

The shades of subtly darker tones of
thread make you look dynamic in colour,
not flat, indeed the crisscross of pattern
is visible when I focus my look.

Somehow without temperature increasing,
I do feel warmer looking at you here.
So good you are standing on your one leg.

You are bright even in the dark, the thought
of you makes me think of a ray of light.
You have a lot to say to me today.

Culture & Art Ethnic Lore Poetry World Matters

Here and there writing [Sestina Poem]

Talent to be a poet,
If I begin writing of syllables, 
An icon within an icon for words,
Takes up time in my mind a sestina,
An amassed heritage a gift of age,
Shifting attention to geometry,

A space of geometry.
Occupied is a mind of a poet,
Humanity’s development pass age,
I might want to use the ‘gin’ syllable,
Meaningful something of a sestina,
Like in the days of old about these words.

Like a salad mixing words.
Numbers move in circles, geometry.
French, Tuscan, Spanish love a sestina;
Writing briefly like a refined poet,
I have two hands for these ten syllables,
Watching measurements of a passing age.

Valuable are things of age;
Collecting valuable favourite words,
These many sounds of meaning, syllable;
Words, symbols distinguish geometry,
Like fine art words depict for a poet,
Demanding strict follow to sestina.

For a bleat a sestina.
Death and life, an experience of age,
Prioritizing words by a poet,
A writer counting and sharing her words,
Mathematics of pie, geometry,
Any more, I will need your syllables.

A sound of a syllable.
Six lines any order a sestina.
An oldest branch of math, geometry,
Weaving our relations in an age.
Let’s forget articles in these few words,
Imagery understood by a poet.

Here geometry, for a measure or laugh, a syllable.
Merci poet, for these long sestinas,
An age lasts as do words.

Culture & Art Environment Ethnic Lore Poetry

The rising sun [Poem]

An early morning sun in the window,
Welcomes me now with an orange sparkle,
The clouds are tired, nights roll with the moon,
They are about to move out of the way,
For a bright day ahead and clear blue sky.

The hue of the sun is inviting, warm,
Like it has a plan, reach the horizon,
Melting away the brightness in the toil,
Of a climb, rising steadily, changing,
An atmosphere finally settled on,
The right seat in the sky preparing to,
warm up the day over many hours.

Today not so many discouraging,
Clouds to roll by the sun, not so much of,
An attitude, these weather clouds ruin,
The sun’s work, looks encouraging today.

Ethnic Lore Poetry Social Issues Women's Affairs

Looking for a settlement [Sestina Poem]

In the woodland valley live concerned women;
Forthright in relating a valued native.
Through this, I only see a motley window,
Growing a freestanding delicate flower.
People gathering in a green Kanata;
Woven baskets of harvested medicine.

Carried a windfall of select medicine,
Many originated from chief women.
In the distance a familial Kanata;
Guarding our children a watchful native;
Private soil gives an aromatic flower;
Rising sun’s rays in our breezy window.

I do not see change in a garden window;
Storing supply of seasonal medicine.
Wild leafy forests bearing creeping flower.
At the river bank are sagacious women.
After a counsel an ensuing native,
Consensus crafted for a trade Kanata.

Ours is a captivating Kanata.
Extended families are in the window,
Thoughts of a bloodline an important native,
Keeping at hand accessible medicine.
Working together many tribal women;
Near a lake blossoms a colourful flower.

On a river bank is a weedy flower.
Blossoms invite a delightful Kanata.
Surrounded by our sensitive women;
I set up ideas in a framed window.
Looking to draw on some soothing medicine.
Learning the ways of a respectful native.

Moons, and waters seen by cognizant native.
In the mighty land a wild prairie flower,
Moist soil nourishing a herbal medicine.
Constructing a home in a mild Kanata;
Noticing the setting sun in a window,
Get along good-hearted ingenue women.

Prepared medicine by an artful native;
Attentive women, sad a poppy flower;
A clear window in a secure Kanata.

Image of bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) on Pixabay by NatashaG

Culture & Art Ethnic Lore Family & Community Feelings & Emotions Poetry Women's Affairs

Our Karma [Sestina Poem]

Like the irreplaceable smile of a daughter.
She in a warm hug is precious love.
A device we all learn about is time.
It builds our relationship, a good conversation,
we find we became everyday friends,
in a homeland of old where we are a community.

Talks are soft and creative in our community.
A karmic choice of benefit, a daughter.
Discussion shifts to root deeper our friends.
Interests and understanding are why we share love.
Layers of emotions and feelings in our conversation.
In creative flow no one notices time.

So much of it passed and we do not want to waste time.
United in vision and practice is our community.
Tea steeping, coffee brewing during conversation.
Like space and distance apart do not matter, my daughter
Weaving in glances, words and thoughts, love.
Loyal companions and honest friends.

Sharing and caring about each other, my friends
Ours lasts forever, I do not know about everyone’s time.
This is something to know and understand, love.
Intense and red-hot feelings can emerge in our community.
Together we abide by all circumstance my daughter,
No silent pauses in our conversation.

Like we never have enough of conversation,
Toils and troubles we share as friends,
We are holding together ancestral karma my daughter
In passing of it I sense the endlessness of time.
How we know what to say and do in community,
To have people who we resonate with, people we know live love.

Deeper than blood connection of love.
Thoughts are like a silent conversation.
Relying on the interconnectedness in community,
Gathered in work, play and words to share with friends.
Awaiting an end makes us feel the passing of time.
It brings me joy and happiness to be with you my daughter.

As humanity we could not live without community. Standing together in wisdom and love.
You became my special, observant daughter. We rarely misunderstand our conversation.
We unite under common aim knowing our value as friends. Patience wins over time.

This is a complex French verse called Sestina.

Photo of Strasbourg France where I lived for almost 2 years. Unsplash

Culture & Art Ethnic Lore Poetry Politics Social Issues Women's Affairs

In the thick of dark shadows [Poem]

About conditions of society.
Over the centuries writers take claim.
You make no effort, notice benefit!
You wanted something from us you didn’t have.

O how you dropped in on us unwanted!
You look for what you need in a wrong place.
You say lies, devise strategies for pain,
Advert ache for suffering of others.

You insisted with your insanity.
We did tell you to get out politely.
Why do you only look at what is wrong?

When doing what is inappropriate.
Subtly killing future joy for women.
For how many lives are you chasing us?

Animals Environment Ethnic Lore Nature Poetry

Wet forests of warm heat [Poem]

O jungle forests! How I miss you.

The constant sounds of the many living beings talking to each other amongst the vibrant nature. Wherever you tune in a song.

O jungle forests! How I miss you.

No moment of silence, heat and rains and twelve hours of sunlight.

The rains are massive and only momentarily they offer a change of sound from the animals and insects talking.

O jungle forests! Filled with medicines, and flowers that resemble kisses.

How I miss sleeping the long nights listening to crickets and birds and monkeys sermonize the stars and moon.

O jungle forests! How I miss you. I could write about you forever

Photo by author in Puerto Maldonado