Defining Poetry (Book) http://www.Writing.Com/main/books.php/item_id/1618590-Defining-Poetry Assumption I raise a cone of power a solitary witch, ancient, anarchic palms, third eye, sacrum slick with holy chrism spiraling heavenward my heart splinters into time confetti to be whisked away. Sat, 13 Feb 2010 13:41:35 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/687371 [Image #1199990] Wetland We have no mountains rising to the sun the eye arcs north and south across a river of grass, the palm trees and mangroves sluicing the sky as we drive the Tamiami Trail. Over and over, the children ride the dragon coaster at the Everglades fair unknowing that beneath them rides the vouivre , a coiled se...[Read Full Post] Sun, 07 Feb 2010 10:25:04 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/686709 The Reader Luna Lacuna, not her real name, a failed Catholic, reads Tarot in her kitchen, despises Ratzinger, reveres Wotyja, waits for a female Pope. She serves cream sherry, Almonettes, has a brisket in the crock-pot. Here is your card, The World , a great big beach ball, but air is escaping. You have the world on a string, the whole enchi...[Read Full Post] Sun, 31 Jan 2010 11:08:18 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/685927 A Man Who Loves the Moon A man who loves the moon owns a heart yearning to be elsewhere. He smells like silver, tarnished a ghost orchid in rain. His dreams scatter and twitter like milkweed fluff. He knows the moon is a D para Dios if waxing and a C para Christos if waning. He cannot recall how it is you met, but always remembers...[Read Full Post] Sun, 31 Jan 2010 11:04:27 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/685925 Walk with Two Suns (for winter solstice) In the dark mid-winter you must walk with two suns. Kindle the flame of your internal heat. Set your chakras spinning, let the kundalina rise. Be drunk with joy. And should you wake shivering in your cold castle, cry out to the gods of earth, fire, and flowers. Demand solar powers. Be drunk with dre...[Read Full Post] Sat, 19 Dec 2009 11:01:12 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/679889 Moon Jelly (for Annabella) In the brackish waters of the creek pale moon jellies bob and weave like ghostly marionettes their tentacles and bellies dancing pirouettes with you, dear girl. As the tides rise and fall and the planets rock and roll I orbit on, growing old while you become lithe and tall. We both have stories to be told. Th...[Read Full Post] Sun, 31 Jan 2010 10:49:30 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/679639 Grace After Grace In this moment, a nanosecond, you will defy gravity though Eve's apple has already fallen and the tree of knowledge has been felled. You will rise and unwrap the secret gift hidden in your own heart, the source of original grace And say, sit here, breathe in hope, unfurl your wings, Fly. Written for: [Lin...[Read Full Post] Thu, 03 Dec 2009 11:26:10 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/678532 Mama Song For Helen Burak Salopek Strange how I am mama haunted. Thirty years after your death I catch the scent of cigarettes, their bitter, acrid incense carries me home to the SouthSide a room on the second floor all painful sharp edges removed like magic. The rotten parts of memory scoured by nature and time leave a bleached, beau...[Read Full Post] Thu, 03 Dec 2009 10:29:22 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/678044 Cups A cup is made of what is needed to retain substance. Yet, it is the emptiness, the vacuum left by the burning that is most necessary and utilitarian. It is the cupping that heats the blood and brings toxins to the surface. She often told me that tea was herbal wisdom in a cup. We played with her paper dolls and sipped Red Rose tea in delica...[Read Full Post] Tue, 24 Nov 2009 08:25:11 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/677381 Our Lady of the Red Thread I wear a red thread knotted round my wrist bones to honor the Great Goddess mother to us all, Shekinah, Sophia, Mary queen of heaven, by whatever name she is called. Rahab the harlot, was called by Yaweh, to dangle a red thread out her window, a cry to heaven to save her family's bones. By his mercy, he save...[Read Full Post] Sat, 21 Nov 2009 19:10:00 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/677011 Written for: [Link To Item #1615036] This poem is written in response to William Butler Yeat's "Easter 1916". [Link: 'http://www.online-literature.com/yeats/779/'] I was moved by his use of everyday details to describe the effects of government and political decisions that affect personal lives. The repeating line in...[Read Full Post] Sun, 15 Nov 2009 15:22:53 EST http://www.Writing.Com/main/books/entry_id/676284