Friday, 27 March 2015

Vertigo.
The creeping desire to get dirty and fall like an angel with wings on fire. Icarus knew....

Thursday, 26 March 2015

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Nothing here for a soul thief to feed on.
Just the ramblings
Of an old heart, still bleeding.
And offerings for those who love...

Sunday, 22 March 2015

Kitten witches sharpen their claws - they think to win is to battle.
Eyes flashing green and dark - they haven't found out what their hearts for.
Love is wasted on their ears -and kindness falls like wrapping.
Nothing gets through their armour of youth - until their karma comes tapping.


Friday, 20 March 2015

Manifesto for Artists2

The artist delivers pure essence.

The art work will strike awe into move the witness. The more deeply the better.

The artist IS permitted to will use ideas generated by other artists so long as she: acknowledges, credits AND noteably furthers the origin.

The art will INSPIRE the soul to experience transcendence.

The art is love.

The art will remind us of who we are.

The art will make us whole or lead us to wholeness.

The art is not insipid, half arsed or compromised.

The artist does not need to be appropriate.
(Appropriacy is a cage for the soul)

True art is deliberate; it liberates - the soul, mind, society.

The true artist is conscious, aware, resolved. (In order that they do not use the witness as a low level process tool...)

The artist engages their entire being to formulate a sophisticated response to the world and the questions it raises.

The art does not exist in a vacuum. The artist MUST relate.
The art IS relationship.

It is not enough to paint the dreams of the ego - the artist will articulate a solution; a betterment; a response.

The artist SHOULD fall in love with (the) other artists.

Art is sophisticated aesthetic dialogue.

Art is love,
Above all, the art is love.


Sunday, 15 March 2015

wild, smart, clever women with hearts the size of planets and minds wide open like the blue, blue sky, with your wombs as big as galaxies, forever birthing stars,
you are the reason my world keeps turning.
your love is like the sunshine and your laughter is life support.
you brew and bake salvation as we sew our magical worlds stitch by stitch, seam by seam - great tapestries of love drawn down from the moon....

Friday, 13 March 2015

Black moon eyes; our souls meet and words lose interest.
I got the splinter out. Does it feel better?
Yes.
Ok then.
We move on but the pure black love of your soul stays in my heart.

Friday, 6 March 2015

Go to Kailash for me. I cannot go, things to do, motherhood keeps me from it. Go to Kailash and hold me in your prayers as you walk around it. I will wait there in the centre, and when you come, please lay before me all that you think me to be. We are nothing at all anyway you see, and there, at that, the seat of dear Parvati may we know peace between our hearts. Dear soul, if I turned you away when you were but a star I am sorry. I was only a child and did not think it possible to keep you. There are so many secrets in my heart I would share with you if you come with humble quiet soul. Your rage is to be expected, I know, but try not to take these things of life too personally - you will go crazy that way. You will become all the bad things they say women are. But we are sacred. Honour your kind.

Thursday, 5 March 2015

Today my old coat has taken the eye of almost every passerby. It's colour shines and blings, glorious in Spring sunshine...strangers stop to pay their dues to its magnificent hue and friends request a waiting list of who's next, when I no longer fit. I remember you as I think of how I threw it on this morning, running for the clock and three second warnings coming from my lips. I got this coat for a steal, really it was nearly free - a seam was wrong, but so easily repaired. I knew I could fix it took only a minute to make it perfect to wear. So sometimes I take it for granted I've had it so long, its no longer enchanted to me, just ordinary and quite old, but today with all the clamour I'm reminded of its glamour and somehow this reminds me too of you. I think how we met so long ago now that I sometimes forget to treasure the precious moments spent two by two. 
Full moon bringing you home like the tide ...sparkles shoreline of my heart ... 

Sunday, 1 March 2015

I met a man who did not try to steal my soul but asked instead a question that let my heart unfold. I did not have to give him in return a single part of me, nor lie beside him (except for in my dreams). He does not tug or pull at me yet lets me reach him still when I need salve.