Friday, October 18, 2019

The Addict by Anne Sexton

Anne Sexton at her writing desk



The Addict 
by Anne Sexton

Sleepmonger,
deathmonger,
with capsules in my palms each night,
eight at a time from sweet pharmaceutical bottles
I make arrangements for a pint-sized journey.
I'm the queen of this condition.
I'm an expert on making the trip
and now they say I'm an addict.
Now they ask why.
WHY!

Don't they know that I promised to die!
I'm keeping in practice.
I'm merely staying in shape.
The pills are a mother, but better,
every color and as good as sour balls.
I'm on a diet from death.

Yes, I admit
it has gotten to be a bit of a habit-
blows eight at a time, socked in the eye,
hauled away by the pink, the orange,
the green and the white goodnights.
I'm becoming something of a chemical
mixture.
that's it!

My supply
of tablets
has got to last for years and years.
I like them more than I like me.
It's a kind of marriage.
It's a kind of war where I plant bombs inside
of myself.

Yes
I try
to kill myself in small amounts,
an innocuous occupation.

Actually I'm hung up on it.
But remember I don't make too much noise.
And frankly no one has to lug me out
and I don't stand there in my winding sheet.
I'm a little buttercup in my yellow nightie
eating my eight loaves in a row
and in a certain order as in
the laying on of hands
or the black sacrament.

It's a ceremony
but like any other sport
it's full of rules.

It's like a musical tennis match where
my mouth keeps catching the ball.
Then I lie on; my altar
elevated by the eight chemical kisses.
What a lay me down this is
with two pink, two orange,
two green, two white goodnights.
Fee-fi-fo-fum-
Now I'm borrowed.
Now I'm numb.

=============================

“The whole notion of pain, and how every individual experiences pain, is up for debate. We don't know how another person experiences pain - physical pain or psychic pain. Some of these clinics where assisted suicide or euthanasia is practiced, they call it 'weariness of life.'”


Sunday, October 13, 2019

I Am the Highway by Audioslave


What a magnificent Autumn Full Moon!  Wow!  Just...WoW! xo, Marion

———————-

“But even when the moon looks like it's waning...it's actually never changing shape. Don't ever forget that.” 
― Ai Yazawa, Nana, Vol. 14

———————-


I AM THE HIGHWAY
Audioslave

Pearls and swine bereft of me
Long and weary my road has been
I was lost in the cities
Alone in the hills
No sorrow or pity for the leaving I feel

I am not your rolling wheels
I am the highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky

Friends and liars don't wait for me
I'll get on all by myself
I put millions of miles
Under my heels
And still too close to you
I feel

I am not your rolling wheels
I am the highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky

I am not your blowing wind
I am the lightening
I am not your autumn moon
I am the night
night
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: BRAD WILK / TOM MORELLO / TIM COMMERFORD / CHRIS CORNELL

Friday, October 11, 2019

So Tired...

Getting old is exhausting...

My daughter, Sarah, and my smart, gorgeous granddaughter, Mary Mace, who is 15.

Saturday, October 5, 2019

Way Maker - God

The Pentecostals Of Alexandria, Louisiana 


Isaiah 43:16 - 19 

Thus saith the Lord, which maketh a way in the sea, and a path in the mighty waters;
17 Which bringeth forth the chariot and horse, the army and the power; they shall lie down together, they shall not rise: they are extinct, they are quenched as tow.
18 Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old.

19 Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert. 


JESUS IS THE WAY MAKER


Way maker
Miracle worker
Promise keeper
Light in the darkness
My God
That is who you are
Way maker
Miracle worker
Promise keeper
Light in the darkness
My God
That is who you are
You are here
Touching every heart
I worship you
Meeting every need
I worship you
I worship you...


Songwriters: Osinachi Okoro

__________________________

I am fortunate to know God, to have experienced His Love, miracles, healing and Light.  In my darkest hours, Jesus came to me, spoke to me through His Word, His people and His beautiful Spirit.  I’ve been cared for spiritually, materially and physically by God.  He has met my needs, healed my body and mind and kept my heart beating.  When I was poorest materially, I was richest spiritually because I depended on God for everything.

Friday, October 4, 2019

Aren’t We Strange? By Marion

Aren’t we strange
little creatures?

We live; we die.
It happens that fast,
like a semicolon’s pause...

Estranged family, former friends,
& neighbors who never spoke to you
gather in an ornate funeral parlor
with sparkling chandeliers,
thick, soft, neutral carpet, and
black suited, paid employees. 
Soft, morbid music is piped in...
Soon-to-be-dead flowers 
are covering the fancy,
expensive, satin-lined coffin
in which your corpse is stuffed
wearing clothing, well, you would
never be caught dead in.

Why dress up corpses?

Put them in comfortable clothes!!!

Why are these people here?

To celebrate your life??

You’re dead.  You don’t know
who’s at this gathering of gawkers.

Why, when you were alive, didn’t 
they tell you of their love, friendship
and caring concern...and give you living flowers,
red Rose bushes & Blueberry plants?
Or apologize for the ugly scars
they inflicted on your tender
body, soul and spirit?

Why didn’t they speak
of their love for you or
once say sincerely:  “Are you hurting?”
Or, “I’m sorry you are in pain.”
“What can I do for you?”
So few words holding such power—-
To the living, of course.

Have mercy, breathing people
with wildly beating hearts—-
Make peace with your loved ones
while they are still alive!
They will not see you or your 
crocodile tears once they are
forever in that box,
buried in the 
cold, hard,
eternally silent, 
unforgiving earth.

~Marion





PSALM 69:29 (ESV) 

But I am afflicted and in pain;
    let your salvation, O God, set me on high!

Thursday, October 3, 2019

Your Other Name by Tara Sophia Mohr

Ragnar, our new rescued Pitbull.  He’s a sweetheart.





Your Other Name
By Tara Sophia Mohr

If your life doesn’t often make you feel
like a cauldron of swirling light –

If you are not often enough a woman standing
above a mysterious fire,
lifting her head to the sky –

You are doing too much, and listening too little.

Read poems. Walk in the woods. Make slow art.
Tie a rope around your heart, be led by it off the plank,
happy prisoner.

You are no animal. You are galaxy with skin.
Home to blue and yellow lightshots,
making speed-of-light curves and racecar turns,
bouncing in ricochet -

Don’t slow down the light and turn it into matter
with feeble preoccupations.

Don’t forget your true name:
Presiding one. Home for the gleaming.
Strong cauldron for the feast of light.

Strong cauldron for the feast of light:
I am speaking to you.
I beg you not to forget.

From:  "Teaching With Heart:  Poetry That Speaks to the Courage to Teach", page 75

--------------------------------

"Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible." ~Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama

-----------------------------

"If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion."  ~Dalai Lama

----------------------------

Friday, September 27, 2019

I Raise a Hallelujah! God is Love...



I RAISE A HALLELUJAH 

I raise a hallelujah, in the presence of my enemies
I raise a hallelujah, louder than the unbelief
I raise a hallelujah, my weapon is a melody
I raise a hallelujah, heaven comes to fight for me
I'm gonna sing, in the middle of the storm
Louder and louder, you're gonna hear my praises roar
Up from the ashes, hope will arise
Death is defeated, the King is alive!
I raise a hallelujah, with everything inside of me
I raise a hallelujah, I will watch the darkness flee
I raise a hallelujah, in the middle of the mystery
I raise a hallelujah, fear you lost your hold on me!
I'm gonna sing, in the middle of the storm
Louder and louder, you're gonna hear my praises roar
Up from the ashes, hope will arise
Death is defeated, the King is alive!
Sing a little louder (In the presence of my enemies)
Sing a little louder (Louder than the unbelief)
Sing a little louder (My weapon is a melody)
Sing a little louder (Heaven comes to fight for me)
Sing a little louder (In the presence of my enemies)
Sing a little louder (Louder than the unbelief)
Sing a little louder (My weapon is a melody)
Sing a little louder (Heaven comes to fight for me)
Sing a little louder!
I'm gonna sing, in the middle of the storm
Louder and louder, you're gonna hear my praises roar
Up from the ashes, hope will arise
Death is defeated, the King is alive!
Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Jonathan David Helser / Melissa Helser / Molly Skaggs / Jake Stevens
Raise a Hallelujah lyrics © Bethel Music Publishing

Friday, August 30, 2019

Clear Nights by Charles Wright & My Pink Flowers

CLEAR NIGHT
By Charles Wright

Clear night, thumb-top of a moon, a back-lit sky. 
Moon-fingers lay down their same routine 
On the side deck and the threshold, the white keys and the black keys. 
Bird hush and bird song. A cassia flower falls. 

I want to be bruised by God. 
I want to be strung up in a strong light and singled out. 
I want to be stretched, like music wrung from a dropped seed.   
I want to be entered and picked clean. 

And the wind says “What?” to me. 
And the castor beans, with their little earrings of death, say “What?” to me. 
And the stars start out on their cold slide through the dark.   
And the gears notch and the engines wheel.

Charles Wright, “Clear Night” from Country Music: Selected Early Poems




Confederate Rose












Thursday, August 22, 2019

All Things Pass - Timothy Leary & Lao Tzu



All Things Pass - Lao-Tzu

From:  “Psychedelic Prayers”, page 51

All things pass
A sunrise does not last all morning
All things pass
A cloudburst does not last all day
All things pass
Nor a sunset all night
All things pass
What always changes?

Earth...sky...thunder...
mountain...water...
wind...fire...lake...

These change
And if these do not last

Do man's visions last?
Do man's illusions?

Take things as they come

All things pass



(from translations adapted by Timothy Leary [1920-1996])===============================
Lao-Tzu (ca. 6th century BC) is traditionally considered the author of the Tao Te Ching and the founder of Taoism. Timothy Leary was a Harvard professor and advocate for the use of LSD to expand conciousness. He compiled this version of the poem from a collection of English translations.