the phone rings
again
and again
and again
and again
there is one star and it is a planet
there is only one way to be true
there’s a fence across my arms
there is a chicken in my arms
against my cheek
black and white feathers
the phone rings
noise dept.

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@llamamoonlove
the phone rings
again
and again
and again
and again
there is one star and it is a planet
there is only one way to be true
there’s a fence across my arms
there is a chicken in my arms
against my cheek
black and white feathers
the phone rings
copy paste
and a poem is in another document in the air in the bytes
on the neck in the rouge on the cheek in the
eye the tip of the nose kiss the playful body in the morning
when everything is unwoken and broken and the light hasn’t hit
your pupils just yet
mountain toe
pink in the sunset the
cold air blowing in from the east
cupping the city like a sacred object
a stone a heart locket your tears
are a gift your sorrow the rift that makes
the river run brown and clear cold and muddy
hallelujah
is a cymbal is a chime are the small bells on the edge of a drum
i am the small bell on the edge of a drum my
small song enough to make the air part
in joy
wildflowers on the highway
how selfless, to live, just to drop some seeds, die before they grow
the color red caught my eye
wild strawberries clustered at the edge a race against slugs in the wet wild grass bright blood red tiny as ever she was right better than store-bought
responsible
to protect from harm to protect sacredness to learn from listening
for the harvest of the seed
to integrate wisdom
for stillness
to find time to give thanks to discipline to offer a gift to dream to get alone to forgive
sun
moans groans hiccups
tiny cold toes
open mouth awaiting
warm mama milk
have faith
nothing left to prove we gifted big dreams made a friend of the enemy now we rest, reflect newborn each day nothing left to prove nothing left to say
it’s here
the moon
be still
be a child
still running through green grass
the smell passing your nostrils
and the tangle of it clogging your fingers with
newness
till you fall
finally full
into a heap of yellow mustard
cut through with blue sky
i pray
that one day our tears
can part for a moment
of sunshine the tears in this fabric
repaired
by so many capable hands
hearts
and voices
amen
Commit to a way
hot and fertile earth on a late spring day
bleeding regularly womanhood gifts that lay
creation and acceptance the greatest acts of love
deeply cyclic faithful listener of above
*
the heart cracked open out flowed pain, a dark thick substance without name freeing the victim of guilt shame blame the lower vibrations of life’s game
renewal, rebirth the fool born again ready to fall ready for change in forward motion the Most High plays a lucky beating heart blessed be the day
pandemonium
My time clock
When will it stop
Ticking
When will i run out
Of shelter
Rent around the corner
Moving left and right
The sun sets
The llama in front of the fence
My fingers on keys instead of
Lead letters
Inspiration from the bog
*
There is the garden we tend
To watch the world live
And there is the T.V. screen
To watch the world die
Patience
the grip of time i am willing all are deserving to be full preparation differs us wait wait waiting intentions do come true get alone lack distractions talk to Self often if one listens to the words thoughts actions one aligns with one truth the only judge is Self they are but the witness i take in i command hand in hand relation is nature it is how we see release keep oneness is all of me
Can I name you
Can I name you
Call you two things at once
Can I name you
Perfect Paradox
Soon as I released, I received
And I mean, truly, really, released
From the Self of Self
To the listening God
I received and completed
The end and the beginning
Of my new chapter
I’ve made my decision
Can I name you
Call you two things at once
Can I name you
Perfect Paradox
butterfly
your nectar sweetest juices be grounded and fly touch your belly embody the paradox that is I
PRAYER
She said: To whichever name you pray, if you are sincere, you shall be heard I witness ever-magic Conversing Self with Self Manifest in deep breath Oneness God in all things
I am the Goddess of Mirth Birds visit my windowsill Affirming this path of mine With permeated faith Dedicated to agreement I seek to recognize low desire from true aspiration
The judge is Self Whom we cannot lie to Whom we cannot hide from This is how justice is served On so-called judgement day Forgiveness is fulfilled Conversing Self with Self