Poem: Who Cares?


Look around

among the desks and papers

where crayons fall upon the floor

to see our little babies

asking for so much more

Look up at that building

where laws andĀ  freedom rings

and see the crumbling institution

where instead ego blindness sings

Turn towards the forests

so rich with birds and trees

and hear the sounds of engines

while watching animals flee

Stand by the ocean

so vast and so blue

instead it’s filled with garbage

and the whales now say adieu

Stand across from a stranger

whose color is not yours

no longer love thy neighbor

instead we abhor

Watch those who love the same

in happiness and joy

and remember not equality

rather marriages to destroy

So in the end

who really cares?

because a critical time is coming

where witnesses must bare

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Poem: Sunk


Inside out jellyfish

rubbing up against poisoned ship

far below the darkened deep

algaedĀ  wood a soft down coat

sunken stuck

light lost to the upper deck

Swimming

in and out

among fossiled shapes

once dancing gaily round

polished halls

Serene creatures passing by

to pay respects

Down down

it went

to rest its weary weight

and now to sleep

forever

cradling her precious babes

Goodnight

upon the ocean bed

 

 

 

 

Buried Treasure


There are some folks that search for buried treasure. Some of that treasure may be from sunken ships from long ago that legend tell tales of gold and jewels that went down with these vessels. Divers search and may come up with some beauties, or may find only fish and wood in the depths of ocean, or maybe nothing at all. But it might be the journey alone that draws these seekers, the hope of treasure and wealth and a visit into the past.

I’ve read of current day treasure hunts: wealthy men hiding trunks of money and producing hints with maps given in books that hungry hunters must purchase in hopes of finding the loot. Is it bunk and a lucky gent making his own treasure on unsuspecting innocents, or is there really something hidden waiting for some brilliant detective who can unlock the key?

wpid-0627140540b.jpg

For me the buried treasure is of a different kind. It’s not material. In fact, I’ve been making efforts to rid myself of material goods, including ones of “value”. What is value anyway but what it means to someone. True, gold and diamonds have value if one tried to sell them in our market, but even these go up and down in price and they can sometimes cost so much they become: invaluable. Museums must hold onto pieces that are such treasures as to become priceless.

No, things are no longer what I am pursuing, but still my treasures have been buried. I’ve felt rather like some great explorer that has gone on a long expedition to some unheard of place to find my gems. The natives were not always hospitable and the climate often harsh. The tools I brought with me I found, at times, were primitive and didn’t quite do the trick as I tried to dig and dig to find this deeply hidden trunk of goods.

The maps I had were often handed to me by people who had no idea where I needed to be or what I was looking for; they were crude and often in a language I did not understand. So I tossed them aside and plunged on, sometimes through jungle brush, other years in desert heat sucking the water out of my pores. But I knew if I kept going, eventually I would find the goods.

There were years that I walked in circles. And sometimes I would just lay down and cry. Sometimes I had the strength of a tiger and the eyesight of an eagle, feeling like I was closer and closer. But then the treasure would slip away and I would have to start again.

wpid-20140822_130332.jpg

I’ve learned over the years now, that the maps I needed were with me written in an invisible ink only I could read. They were my maps to find my treasures. When I looked really closely, I noticed that the path lead me through all those places I had gone: the jungles and deserts and around and around–it’s where the trail led, I just hadn’t seen it before now. None of it was by accident.

And all the people I met along the way, they were in the Legend of the map, part of landscape I was meant to wander on path to the treasure. In fact, when I squinted just right, I saw that I actually had found treasure in each of these villages! There were markings showing that’s where some of the jewels were: the people, even the ones I thought were hostile had given me something I didn’t know, a tiny gem of knowledge.

But after walking, searching and following this map–and scrutinizing it carefully, I saw something that brought wonder to me. It appeared I was coming very close to the buried treasure that I had been chasing for so long. Maybe I’m only steps away now it seemed. The map showed it was at the center of everything: bright and brilliant, overflowing with energy.

I’m almost there now. The treasure. My treasure, buried–inside of me.

wpid-0520142142a.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Something Fishy


Waving Stingray 

Passing by

New lipstick 

By in a blur 

Secret visitor

Flashy dresser

Bits of blue 

People accuse me of not being real but I take my time proving it.

Why hello….

Late for school 

Missed my flight 

Whoops wrong club

Feeling glum

Mixed neighborhood 

Police presence 

Every time I hit my head on the glass I swear I want to scream!

This tank ain’t big enough for all of us.

These are shots from our trip today to a little nature center. Cute place, good work educating the public and rehabilitating local wildlife. Fun times . 

Sponges


In one of my karmic lives, I must have been a sea creature–specifically some sort of sponge-like aquatic marine form no doubt. There I was, a mulitcelluar organism filled with pores so the water could just flow through me. As the oceans currents would flow around me, whether turbulent or calm, I sucked up the salty stream going my way.

image
Well, not quite an ocean stream…

Now, in this life time, it appears I continue to suck up most things that float nearby me. The energy that is around me, whether positive or negative, seems to sink into my pores like a sponge out of water. It absorbs into me, even if I am trying hard to deflect it with the best of my defenses: meditation, positive self talk, exercise and simply just being happy myself.

image
This doesn’t absorb water, it explodes with it from build up pressure!

As long as I can recall, I’ve been chided for not have that tougher skin, that shield to bounce the bad ju-ju of others off me. Nope, I never could do it successfully for very long. In fact, many years ago I would actively try to save every soul until (finally) I learned this was a lost cause and slowly ruining my soul.

image
My ruined soul??

But even working hard to create my own bubble–with my absorbent nature–stuff seeps in and I find myself struggling to stay afloat, focused, energized and positive myself. It’s often the chameleon effect. I try to stay upbeat, but it becomes slowly draining and the sponge, more and more full of water, can hold no more. Simply wrung out.

image
Just blending in…..

When being in an environment that is consistently difficult, trying to stay afloat is like treading water to exhaustion. Nothing can float forever and eventually one dips below the surface and, well, disappears. One loses oneself no matter how hard you try.

This isn’t what I want. If I once lived below the ocean, while a beautiful and wondrous place I’m sure, I am now a creature of light. It’s where I belong and am meant to be. Some days I feel like it’s hard to be around others because of their energy…but maybe it’s because I just haven’t found my tribe yet.

Meanwhile, I rejuvenate when I’m alone, work hard not to absorb when around others and continue to keep my head above water following the sun while looking for my island.

image
Ahhhh….peace….someday? Maybe?