Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Magpie #63 Kahuna's Kick-butt Kaleido-telescope

look long into the dark
there is going to be some magic

Look through the glass coloured Kaleido-telescope
The spell was cast in the fiery furnace eons ago
Brightest cadmium reds to hazy phosphorescent green
the blackest night to the whitest white projection
more than it seemed this night of stolen colours

The Magic Bowl of living lightening roared thunderously
shone brighly on the flowered lei'd covered altar
overflowed with sweet honey nectar and youth dew drops
Passionflowers and Hibiscus with spice cupboard jars
of unguent oils
sweet pineapples and papaya taste lavishingly
a slip of the tongue
Tiki warlords had no taboos tonight
all came to play the electric-celestial ballgame

as overhanging arched bowers dripped wetness upon each brow that entered into the hallowed walls
of the long long halls one would walk on and on
quantum-jump into the next incantation or reincarnate on so many levels!
with this evenings mist about the ankles something took hols
lowered swags held us tight to earth's subterrean abyss
you could hear the molten furnace crack with the first alight
as the smoldering candles flickered
and the priest incantation chanting took us to places unheard before
channelling the energies of elements known and unbeknownst
to recall the distant past like this is more than a flash
a kaliedescope of intrinsic patterns holding power sway
unique to timelife's pendulum swing time serenade
a mosiac of faces and places from National Georgraphic
Wasnt I that frozen guy on the steepes of James Bay
dead by way of lead-poisoned cans? or misadventure?
a voice or a vision comes forth like ocean frothe
a superlative latte of sorts
while all the while in the earth's deep furnace
a bellow of a heavy fellow
"look what you've done to me"
booming over the boombox
an apex of karma of course!


now you too suddenly feel the sudden need to dance
feel the incandescence trance
in incandence of transcendentalism surrounds your soul
gets inside your skin and
grassed girth and you shake yourself free as shimmy
become a famous literary figure
or you literally figure it out and come to life!

over these hours of free-flowing lava the molten altar sudden ignites
a primieval shaking has begun and your drink in what you've imbibed
as the ground below pounds out the divining heart beat
into the heart the sea sways
the mountains first begin to crumble than tumble
as a life you recall always by your old dryer, feeling so overused
on it's or your last legs, feeling it is way past spent
way on up and out as you climb the grimy stairs from your reality

all suddenly gave way as upon the pearly shores a sudden burst
a stellar ignition

Together we felt the Puff of warmed air as by the fire we held hands
tropical breezes inudated our marrow senses
as the fire warmed sun-burnish skin smelling of coconut oil
as those too, who were way too close felt the burn
as the firewalkers and skinwalkers singed their feet
felt nothing for a moment than cursed the heavens
for the pain but cooled Canadian waters known as CC
as the hula dancers ebony hair highlighted by bright red lipstick licks of fire
in the triangle of desire
all was not lost
when that need resurfaced
held the breath that breathed like a dragon
as all were mezmerized by such luminous glow
on the horizon we saw the dolphins jump clear into the sky
and the sounds of the humpback whale's cajoling yet sad, sad tales
and the sun did make for tonight only
a nightly appearance and just as suddenly dimmed
and faded to black again
there were rumours that the sun did a rum run
and we did ruminate that there was way too much
free-flow of rum that night
Mai-Tai's will always get you when you least expect them

Waiting and Watching the sound of drums began
We Listened very intensely and intently to the cauldron sounds
these three witches made famous bewitching hour music
made on a stray gray goose's downy gossamer silver wings
returned to find her fledglings and the colours
thrust into the core reactor to firestart the fiery rainbow
a revival of long lost arts and forgotten dream patterns

A thousand years of being thus reborn
as a Huna Shaman

the light split the moon as if retained its mist
She came forth from the volcano the virgin
listening to her cellphone
as the moon spit her fragments momentarily
into many various forms and shapes
which rock star would she be tonight?
her sentiment attachment to things preceded her
as those geologic time framed by sedimentary rocks blew askew
children of the night
watch and wait
listen to the stories told by elders
who grow inward bound
conspire with the dreamers
holding church in fractal glass houses
and dance over the pews and aisles
to let er rip
an astronomical feast of multiple delights
all ages welcome

the collapse had folded the last doll house
remanents of space debris in disarray
former now disbanded
Shone all the colours acoss porcelain floors
swaying up to the bisque aqueduct
now I ask you disk mirror-ball on the ceiling
is it possible to become crystaline again?
had once polished up to a dull bisque
as your ever lovin' smile lights up my room

back to semantics, btw...
who lights up the room of our cohabition?
inhabiting these spaces often uninhabitable?
as our hearts hung low on the horizon
very low but not as yet sunk
wanting to know the right time we're to go?

light captured magic by way of salient etch
an indelible memory held with silver corded string
marking time with smooth moon transition
despite her wobble
yet these subtle changes persist
spread out in luau-like fashion in endless succession
mu-mu worn at high moon
a succulenct apperitif awaits the palette
the main course always a self-correcting course
in how to have a passionate affair de l'amour

the face of the moon
stands corrected by the atomic clock
tick tock off by 1/10000 millionth of a split of an atomic hair
did face us by direct global positioning system
a polarization of extremes meeting once
for tonight only!

to entice another chance
to enlist another audience
to enhance another catalyst of change
to extol the virtues of change

like life, leftover change from the whole, only in part now
and left dangling, like us, our participles, in an empty pocket
now unworn
like grandfather's pocket watch

as we face the east and the moon faces us from the west
we look over our shoulders to see ourselves
sweaty brows and huffing and puffing
on white owl cigars
as our shadow-self boxer
awaits the day to claim the throne
of the Epicentral Universal Oneness
If only one could merged with the shadow and blend somehow

then the sun will also rise
and when it does the same thing happens
and we look back again
upon the same kaleidoscope
and Kahuna hangs loose

and there we see
that we have Leis wrapped around our necks
in multiple succession
we're in Hawaii again!
on another honeymoon!
as we leave the house to the hothouse
the breeze on the beach part breezes past us
unto very similar flowers that we remember
like iconographic images imprinted thus
and all too well!
these earmarked for watermarkedness
we're naked again
swimming in the ocean of our love!
remembered with the first recall of matter
the sweet taste on the tongue
our lecture for hours of nectar'd fragrance of romance
in Art History class
getting at the hart of the matter
and that all we've become we are
and this is all we got and it is only one hour
as Servers Watchers or Waiters
even dry-cleaned clothes get more
than the one-hour martinizing treatment
life certainly "ain't" fair!

and to our politicians of polarized;
to our templed nemesis we say;
"there is no more fight left in me today"
as we try relate to the distant shores
and strange orbs in this way
what with their wobble and pock-marked faces
try looking away to feel for a moment
close your ears or eyes and sense less to get more
as to no no no is to know know know
the dance of opposites has begun!

from what we think of as our incompleteness
the wearing of our bare-breasted and naked souls
Spirit fill me up like gasoline
pour forth into the cup of righteousness
this night full of loveliness
our shame only a game that in our ignorance we believed
but belief is first and formosa
and island unto itself
that knows of itself before it was self
and no matter what necessitates us to action lately
and what is necessary for our survival in the long run
that thing being, I am most certain


LOVE..................IS SIMPLY LOVE!!!

until the day of reunification
until the day of redemption
until the day of reckoning

and we awake
to what? more illusion?
and endless reflection of self-splitting in two
from atoms endless wrecklessness
no more tricks mirrors in the unity
we know duality is gamey
please no gamey unity
which smells worse than left-out too long venison
or all saints on a spirit campaign to rid snakes from ireland
as now all spirits converge
which is really only one spirit
an urge to merge actualized in this spirit of love
without enormous divides in the middle
into light-filled kaleidoscopic plasma balls
therein lies the unity
of which we are one with the Universe
as Carl Sagan would say in endless loop
and all is ONE my LOVE
so alone in our unity are we really?

and as personal as personification can get
we try to stay out of our own way as the clash and din carry on
and of all these late great energies emerging from deep within
to surface the ebb and tide of our flooded hearts waiting to be saved
one day...

and close the chapter on our lives
as once we were living sentient beings
succumb to dust...dust to dust?
now what do you find in dust but more stars;
atomically speaking?

by way of asteroid crash
and the sacred essence of all who are spent
and now who hopefully have finally enough self
after having found
gainful employment in their latent energies
babyboomers awake...your time is nigh
lift your heads up high into the sky!
as a dynamo of perpetual motion
machina delle arte
of things past brought forward into the moment of now
As All prepared for this night of nights rehearsed the show
A crisp ocean breeze with fragrant hibiscus lingered
As the Hawaiian Shaman's practiced Huna's magic alchemy
The four elements combined in the Magic Bowl
Many brave tales of lives that were lived; told

Though the collision created quite a racket
Seen in the blue-black night coloured basket
With all kinds of herbs and sticks and stones
Shaman was conjuring the old ancestor's bones

he Shaman looked up and held the bowl high to the sky
as the light within grew and grew
With a Whoop, a howl, and Yip Yip sounds within
as the drums reached a fevered pitch the Hula dancers
The celestial Loop-de-Loop rounded the corner
doesn't one fractal look a bit like the old salt monster?
oh maybe that's taboo too!

The planets aligned with the centre of the sun
the die was cast, the spell was set to run
a clap of thunderous applause
the earth shook like rock n' roll shimmy
the moon blinked through a solitary cloud
the earth stood still a forever moment
as a thousand rainbow suns lit the nightsky
forming like fingers of light
stretched out like a fan
and away and up into the universal stratosphere
nothing is really bent here

all creation recreates this new creation

For an uplifting time of creating by hand and in a practical way artistic matter of merit please visit the Queen of all things Creative Writing...Magpie Tales...

Thank-you Tess Kincaid of Magpie Tales for the borrowing of the above art did you do that? Cool!



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    Turn it one way and give it a try
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    Symmetry like a snow flake
    More to turn and more to make

    enjoy my Dearest chiccoreal(+)

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