Tags » Utterances

Twenty-Five Days on Turning Fifty Day Five

Spider’s Gift

Resting for a moment while listening to the rain fall in never before spoken patterns outside study door … I lean my head back on the chair letting the thunder seek my mind for a moment … a crab spider is busy walking about on my still partially clinging turquoise rich painted ceiling … the old hippie weeping glass globe lamp has cast a shadow dance there … seldom edged ebb and glow of the electric socket’s bright ballet … She, for soon I see she is a web builder … moves through this stage as if it were a maze of hedge or hay … keeping to and turning with the light’s accord … crossing possibly a time or two at a dim yet slight cast shadow of partial stay … a quickening or a lesser doorway across to bridge with Bright and Self again … after pacing patterned labyrinth prayers … She turns home to Her corner bound web … petting it in a manner … so odd it would seem … as if presenting a gift to a ¬†child … I smile … wondering what must it have been she found … in our upside down worlds … on her journey worth to bundle away home ? 6 more words


Twenty-Five Days on Turning Fifty Day Four

Awakening Autumn

Through the wild wilderness of the pagan heart … rides the woman who Autumn has by the hair … hand fulls of wet and wild potent play … One kiss brought one by pheary invitation … claims of coals and candle wax alike … hoping to become a red stallion between her peachy lips longing chained … mortals would try to tame and break her … as if she were a white pony in a fringed bridle … side saddle and so little known of her … less the memories of their loins begat in begging … The Summer Sun turns her hair as copper as the Tin Smith’s dreaming dares … punching into the Netherworld’s drawn vapor … fed flame passing the scent of pregnant Ginko fruit … through those hidden gates … yet back it will grow in her belly … when Winter leaves her bed abandon … His purple toes between her thighs prying secrets belonging to Sister Spring alone … Once, when she was young and frail, she mistook this for a sadness … tho now even as the last of the hummingbirds kiss to sip … drowning the loss of hours in ever lessening blossoms … she listens for the sleeping bells toll … strings her hazelnuts with certain wisdom … sadness is as sadness does … and all masters are a slave to their making … Love of a good woman is forever free … if forever it is cared for and not forsaken … As for me ?… My wild heart is fancy still … yet, taken by mortal, I agree … Tho’, happy,¬†buxom, and bonny am I … the Lord wanton of me. 6 more words

I am a Jellyfish

Self-refuting utterances are obviously false by the very fact of their being made. “I am now asleep”, or “I am not writing this sentence”, or “Words have no meaning”” – are examples of self-refuting statements. 199 more words