Monthly Archives: May 2014

You Gonna Bleed Yo’ Heart, Or Wield That Pen? – A Chant Royal

 

~~~

I been seein’ that green-blue ’round fondala mandala thing
all night long . Gonna set myself in this here rockin’ chair 
t’ shake the truth, what been sitting in my heart’s left wing
’bout how them big words makin’ me grin or be all maddened goo.
First off, I gotta say, the pit-cher be missin’ one unnamed strand.
Well, it ain’t really a strand, it be what shoulda been planned
on that there dizzy flower petal wheel thing all gone spun
with words so big, and makin’ my heart all whiggun’.
What all that turquiose color? Why ain’t that been
named? That be key stuff to all our short and long run!
You gonna bleed yo’ heart, or wield that pen?

That there blue, that be con-shush-ness. That be a whole lot a zing
floatin’ me in ‘n around of all them there words threatening a coup
if I don’t spiff myself clear ’bout how I be cor-re-lating.
I mean like them fancy pants psycho-collegists be yammerin’ to
Oprah all smiling ‘n pretty-haired. This one guy, he say an unmanned
center spot in the middle of me can CHANGE up a plan all grand.
What’s comin’ through all those damn center spots we all be? None
other, he say, than Spirit, energy, that silly-putty fuel we all-some
be needin’ to create what we want. Show me the zen!
that’s what I said to the TV. Shoot. Let’s get this train ride begun.
You gonna bleed yo’ heart, or wield that pen?

Remember how last time we talk? I tol’ you ’bout how we all bring
power t’ the party, ‘n how lovin’ self be key ’cause it be the glue
we want holdin’ them giant word flowers we all be blossoming
all over that there mondo mandala? Ok so we all lined up like new
right? That center part bein’ hooked up – that take a band
of IN-tention to be all maintainin’. You be takin’ a stand
every day, dang, sometimes every minute making sure what won
that point be center, ‘stead of all that pain-tainin’ over stun-gun
idiots dazey enough to be crossin’ your last nerve with the anti-amen
they spew like they Jesus’ tutor, and you ridin’ the short bus for fun.
You gonna bleed yo’ heart, or wield that pen?

Fact is, when that pain-butt Jesus Tutor show up, they just saying
what some inside-us voice been sayin’ but ain’t gotten through
so you’d notice and do somethin’ before that there thought-ing
voice git a bunch o’ that silly-putty fuel, create for real ‘n say boo
right in front of your face and slice and dice till you stand
up and say you gonna go inside and have a one-on-one so the land
outside be safe from shit goin’ on inside. Hell, you don’t wanna shun
that convo ’cause that be one war just go on and on like a re-run
of Iraq ‘n Afghanistan times ten! You don’t re-solve it my frien’-
let me tell you, that crap’ll age your face till it look like frickin’ dim sum.
You gonna bleed yo’ heart, or wield that pen?

See, all that con-shush-ness be like the root beer flowing
round and you is a bit o’ bubble foam – so you is con-sush-ness too.
I hear some them anil-nitpick types call it a-where-ness big-ing
when y’ talk t’ the piece of you be your inner Jesus Tutor, or shrew
or whatever name you give, cause it be your MVP, nothing bland
about that role. Me, I call mine Sister MVP, ’cause she so grand
she take the capital B from Brand and shoot some itchin’ sun-
dried tomato slime all over my space if’n I don’t lock up her gun
o’ distruction somewhere inside that a-where-ness moment when
she first start up inside tryin’ to tell me how I’m missin’ the sun.
You gonna bleed yo’ heart, or wield that pen?

Well, I gotta get going just now as I’m feelin’ a stitch wan.
Goin’ t’ go find my center point and ‘n git my inner everyone
sat down together while I peel me some potatoes, pluck the hen
and rest on this here tale I just gone and spun.
You gonna bleed yo’ heart, or wield that pen?

© Lori Fleming, 2014

2014_0527_IamtheWordMandala

Everybody Sing Sing Sing – A Chant Royal

2014_0528_bullseye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~~
I been told it’s great leaders who wield the power
but I gotta tell you, that’s just one percent
cream in an organic story gone sour.
Takes more than a Springsteen in a voice full vent
to set my feet running toward a land of hope and dream.
See that backup band with gospel-lit singers stream
their talent behind ‘n through The Boss’s lead? That’s a jumpstart
hooked up my generation’s searching heart.
I’m just saying it’s time to let go the cling
to that musty, old, out-dated ‘you gotta lead’ crap and HOOK UP MY PART.
Come on now, everybody, sing, sing, sing

It ain’t that the Boss ain’t great, of course he’s our
hero, I’m saying there’s a whole lot of discontent
risin’ up, smearin’ the views from that there ivory tower.
Who do you think built the goddamn tower? Ya’ll seem intent
on believing it wasn’t the head, heart and hands numbered in reams
of slaves and scholars, believers and aetheists, the laser-beam
focused, and wandering hearts with their questionable smarts
all, somehow serving together exactly the right mix, playing their part
to raise the nations, the bridges, hell, even the very building
housing our presidents, our corporations, our children, our art.
Come on now, everybody, sing, sing, sing

I’m telling you now, the first place we gotta quit with the cower-
ing is on our own war’s freakin’ frontline. Makes no sense
to get all up in the business of how everyone else done devour
stuff at my expense, when I’m sittin’ here devouring every cent
of my own self worth ’cause I be so judgmental ’bout every theme
imaginable inside my own crazy head. Now that there, that’s some cream.
But I’m telling you, that shit’s hard to look at, takin’ me all apart
settin’ up these trashed looking self-bits on rickety carts
to bake in the sun til they got some kind of flavor-bling
or til I can love, live, and laugh with myself, even when I fart.
Come on now, everybody sing, sing, sing

Once my itty-bitty inside backup singers sang me a tune that weren’t all dour
its easier to find what kind of player I wanna be. I gotta say time spent
bought me a pair of those 3-D glasses, you know the ones take a flower
like in Avatar, and make it practically a world power? Now don’t get all bent,
I’m not saying everyone’s gonna discover they be a world power. The scheme,
to this here life – well it ain’t about bein’ in charge, bein’ the team
captain, the rock star, or the dang president. What I’m sayin’ is we all like Bart,
you know, Homer Simpson’s kid? We all got a part. And me, suffering heart-
burn with none of them pink alka-seltzers in sight, thinking I don’t know my thing,
Now I got the memo says all I gotta do already be written in my DNA’s chart.
Come on now, everybody sing, sing, sing

Now if I be a secretary cause I’m a kick ass organizer, or a shower
curtain hanger cause I got long arms, or a frickin’ Janis Joplin all bent,
or a naked street performer type, or some nerd studying flower
petal formations, I be as key to the outcome as Rockefeller’s dollars and cents.
And if I be that important, YOU is that important. You hear me? Scream
all you want, like you Mick Jaguar in bell-bottoms with gold-stitched seams
all over your private parts. Seriously, if that’s what’s written in your DNA’s chart,
honor it. That’s the key. Go on now, you. You be the the Courtney singin’ tart
or the back up singer, the truck driver, or the dope-sniffer. Whatever you bring,
deliver it. Cause what you are, what you be learnin’ and becomin’, it all your part.
Come on now, everybody sing, sing, sing

The thing about power is, everybody’s got it. We don’t need t’ go to K-mart
or be trying to grab it from who we hate ’cause they be big bullies, it’s a la carte!
Hell, load up on as many servings as you wanna create. ‘Cause here’s the thing:
You and me, them and us, we all be the bulls-eye, we all be the dart.
Come on now, everybody sing, sing, sing

© Lori Fleming, 2014

I am the Word – A Rondeau Redoublé

2014_0527_IamtheWordMandala

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
~~~

I know who I am, I am the Word
I know what I am, a courier prized
I know how I serve, through reactions stirred
I am the Word, emotion occupied

Know my self first. Let it be theorized
what motifs insist thoughts be conferred?
What calls my heat to unbidden dyes?
I know who I am, I am the Word

What is all right, what wrongs disguised?
What light into darkness is now interred?
Inertia’s movement craves passions applied
I know what I am, a courier prized

My emotive energy, this power supplied
feeds the good, the bad, and the blurred
these tits for tats, all shots replied
I know how I serve, through reactions stirred

When vehemence spouts, all blue-skied
by actions of others, grieved or absurd
this empowered channel serves to guide
I am the Word, emotion occupied

Commence exploration as self-on-the-side
of pitch-covered topics, and passions spurred.
Refocus my power til thoughts coincide
to find what is, is what I preferred
I know who I am

© Lori Fleming, 2014

This Is the Role – A Glosa with Final Insight to Poetic Lab 1001.05 

2014_0524_100105AnswerDSC_0662

 
Still write it down, it might be read
nothing’s better left unsaid
only sometimes, still no doubt
it’s hard to see, it all works out.”
~ Keith Reid, for Procol Harum,
In Held ’twas In I (Glimpses Of Nirvana) on the Shine On Brightly Album
~~~

Words and play
ideas for sculpting
conceptual molds
theoretical casts
imagined possibilities
spinning the head
once worked
through heart
whilst lying in bed
Still write it down, it might be read,

by the one
who knows
the one who’s
looking for a
word, an image
a colorful thread.
Synchronicity’s
advocates
have often pled
‘nothing’s better left unsaid.’

Bring forth ideas
collaborate with pen
then sound duet
through keyboard’s
channels. Hear this:
Broadcast Spirit’s shout-out.
Though you might know why,
who, or what endows
an idea with perfect clout
only sometimes, still no doubt

an image, a word, a thread
has occurred. Hence this
diplomat’s wholly grail
simply requires
inspired ideas
be promptly sent out.
Move past the question
if this could be
what Nirvana’s about.
It’s hard to see, it all works out.

© Lori Fleming, 2014

This represents the finale, Part 5, the requested insight I asked for and gained from poetic experiment 1001 – where I attempted to create an intentional conversation with the greater consciousness to guide how I generate and forge personal meaning into a professional identity.

A Tri-Glosa Weaving Poetic Lab 1001.04

2014_0523_100104DaveLawrenceShastaFallPost

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~~

What must I do
to build a bridge
beyond?

So many wrongs
reflect within
the past.
Feeling for right,
reveal the way
concede
shadow and she
now travel together.

Value’s players
lost in night
discovering light
through sense of loss
call self-worth
our freedom’s dealer
denied visibility.

Search the mirror
a connection
activate now
to find a sun
with sci-full and
soulful awareness
misplaced at birth
art-full feelers
beyond iniquity.

For the beauty of the earth,
I am the healer
What’s done is done, surrendered in equity,

This soul-bit’s
questioned beliefs
investigate
one song
line by line
each word’s
healing tones
turned around
syllabic soul
gently rock
reframed
evolved
Spirited rhymes
unlocking
ways of hearing
a lullaby’s
ways of seeing
at last
healing force
initiates unfolding
this bridge complete.

Enlightened heart
earth to sky
green to blue
love can recognize
a freeing
life through death.

For the beauty of the skies
called into being
the burden is eased, the cross surpassed.

Gazing upward,
Hear this.

Declare our vision
sunlit spirals
rise above
be now energized
shame and loss
polarity defined.

Command chasms
transmuted.

Visualize anew
bridging now
with empathy
from me to thee
evil to sacred
welcomed girth
ever appealing
evolution remarkably
a desire
DNA’s code
empowered within
to create
upgraded.

A name’s interpretation
forming New Earth.
through feeling
pronounced reliably.

For the love which from our birth,
I am the healing
This awakening spell, employed quite ably,

Empower self
living within.
Power the All’s
sense anew.
Tone one’s notes
desire to be
creative’s created
self renewed
ease and grace
all wrongs
now refreshed.

Our joyful experience
with rights
tempered in love
shared in peace
wisdom lights eyes.
sounding the call.

Raise your glass.

A path
rising from ash
to adventures within
our divine sight
in love with how
one’s highest truth
reveals the prize –
creation enthralls
our expanded class
over and around us lies
serving the All.

The sun and the stars, now ours en masse.

© Lori Fleming, 2014

An overview of this poetic experiment to Forge Meaning and Build Identity:

This Glosa represents Part 3 of a poetic experiment wherein I attempt to create an intentional conversation with the greater consciousness that will guide how I generate and forge personal meaning into a professional identity.

The initial protocol was to create three Glosa poems. The first focused on using a poetic quatrain addressing the initiation of my quest.  The second quatrain and resulting glosa focused on my role, first to heal myself and discover what that healing inspired me to focus on in the world. The second component was then used as a bridge to the conversation’s third aspect, a quatrain used to write a glosa focused on my desired result and the purpose of my time on Earth.

The three glosas, one with each quatrain, are written as discrete poems, which, when placed side by side, are read horizontally line by line across the three poems to create a fourth poem (seen above).

One could think of the initial three Glosa poems generated as the East, South, West cardinal points of a conversation that yields the fourth poem, a milestone articulation which inhabits the North cardinal point on this first spin around the conversation’s wheel.

2014_0523_100104Ovvw

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Come Be In Peace – A Glosa Poetic Lab 1001.03

2014_0523ChrisDelleShastaReflect

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s done is done
The burden is eased, the cross surpassed
This awakening spell, employed quite ably
The sun and the stars, now ours en masse ~ L. Fleming, 2014
~~~

Beyond
the past
concede
value’s players
through sense of loss
denied visibility
activate now
soulful awareness
beyond iniquity
What’s done is done, surrendered in equity,

Investigate
each word’s
syllabic soul
evolved
ways of hearing
at last
this bridge complete
green to blue
life through death
the burden is eased, the cross surpassed.

Declare our vision
be now energized
Command chasms
bridging now
evil to sacred
evolution remarkably
empowered within
a name’s interpretation
pronounced reliably.
This awakening spell, employed quite ably,

Power the All’s
desire to be
ease and grace
our joyful experience
shared in peace.
Raise your glass
to adventures within
one’s highest truth
our expanded class,
the sun and the stars, now ours en masse.

© Lori Fleming, 2014

~~~

An overview of this poetic experiment to Forge Meaning and Build Identity:

This Glosa represents Part 3 of a poetic experiment wherein I attempt to create an intentional conversation with the greater consciousness that will guide how I generate and forge personal meaning into a professional identity.

The initial protocol was to create three Glosa poems. The first focused on using a poetic quatrain addressing the initiation of my quest.  The second quatrain and resulting glosa focused on my role, first to heal myself and discover what that healing inspired me to focus on in the world. The second component was then used as a bridge to the conversation’s third aspect, (seen above) a quatrain used to write a glosa focused on my desired result and the purpose of my time on Earth.

The three glosas, one with each quatrain, are written as discrete poems, which, when placed side by side, are read horizontally line by line across the three poems to create a fourth poem.

2014_0523_100103Ovvw

One could think of the initial three Glosa poems generated as the East, South, West cardinal points of a conversation that yields the fourth poem, a milestone articulation which inhabits the North cardinal point on this first spin around the conversation’s wheel.