Monday, January 30, 2012

Magpie #102 Vassily Kandinsky Paints On "I'M SYNESTHESIA"

vassily jane jones kandinsky
Red Spot II, 1921, Wassily Kandinsky
Vassily Kandinsky
paints ON
im song
im sight
im hearing
im smelling
im feeling
im tasting
Fin de Siecle
paints ON
paints ON
paints ON
Vassily Kandinsky
paints ON

Friday, January 27, 2012


last night's dream
about roots
inexplicable as
a root dr of knowledge being there
i had no doubt knew that I was dreaming
being a man of know and all
so why he was there?
it was my dream
why did I go to him to find the root cause of my pain?
but he was there
always has been
as these roots are active
growing all the time deeper and deeper
unfurled in this way in the spiral
I have to gather together
bandwidth solid
a state of grace
to become the dream
and be the latent energy stored
CTR actually, really~!
rootworking my mind's gone subtle subdued lighting
enlightenment's embodiment of this boddhi tree
in my mind
these roots do appear as neural pathways
as natural a thing
as organic a thing
as rooted a thing I am
and it is this tree
rooted in me, rooted to life energy
this life roots us altogether rooting for US
AND I hug each day as if it were my last
I want to make last
this moment of deepest rootedness
bearing down deeper into the soulful soil
i give birth to myself and all my umbilicus
roots run deep
and deeper still
these waters surrounding us in this bubble we live in
and still attuned to the sound
attached at the hip
from the deep woods
sprung the words of LOVE
entwined in my hearted root system
his voice in mine
i sense his coaching methods
makes me speak another language
I've never heard fluently
and as i slept soundly
and dreamt of days before days
and felt this need within
going way down
past the point of no return; no exit
bringing up from the depths
bringing up from the entanglement
bringing up the yarns of yards of
dangling root systems
with a life so tenacious as to be fragile
sensitive to touch by minutiae
these fonacci'd calibrated hairs
these i hold in my hands
let their earth seep into my sweat
carried up into my root system
i am learning the source of we are
this very tall tree of life
Ephraim's Moravian star
so sacred a thing
so subtle an energy
so want to stay wrapped in all these tentacled arms
that would have loved me
had they stayed alive
but rooted they were growing away from me
finding new life in the underground caves of the unconscious
what is this?
(source for above; Google Free Images Thank-you for the usage of above image!

Monday, January 23, 2012

Mag#101 Japanese 101


From Boris Hoppek's
Tokyo exhibit "Ever"




everyone eat sushi

protein is good for the soul

wrapped up in this zen moment


Saturday, January 21, 2012

Ascension Earth 2012: Message from the Galactic Federation 1/21/12

Ascension Earth 2012: Message from the Galactic Federation 1/21/12: The forward is a personal message sent to Greg from the Galactic Federation. ‘Dear Greg, after careful review, additional regional ‘tr...

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Zoey Gets Panned and Remembering The Iditarod and Robert W. Service

in memory of
The Shooting of Dan McGrew
by Robert W. Service
zOeY gEtS pAnnEd
the dog Zoey was moving
so quickly
I was panning
so slowly
the dog's was panting
and sniffing all the time as usual
a virtual nose on a dog
i was pantomiming the action
pretending to be a great photographer
maybe Karsch?
panicking that I would not get the shot
going with the flow of the dog
being The Art of Zen Photog
because the dog never
stands still
she pulls and pulls
like an old musher
she gave and gave and won me the old 49er
a whole sled-load of quart oil for her
in the Great Northern Iditarod dogsled races
of which I recall Nibbles my old boxer mix
won just such a whole box of 24X24 quarts of oil
long enough ago now
in the 90's
but now I am Zen again
please remember when
but the moment is the focus
if I can get 'er in focus!!!
to get a picture worthy picture
to grace all the covers of Time
see how the background is blurred?
see how the dog should be more in focus?
see how Jane is totally frustrated?
Confusious ask too many questions
Just be Jane
experience your laboured breathing
hold it tight
focus all that energy on the shot!
no don't shoot the turkeys
go beserk in the field
or the deers so swift with
their cottonwhite tails whipping me in the face
and so tauntingly too
telling me
'ha ha'
you missed the shot!
these new-fangled devices
need to get upgraded in my opinion
for the love of my digicam!

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Magpie #99 Maybe Yul Be There

image: Lee Friedlander

image: Lee FriedlanderMagpie #99

Maybe Yul Be There

Maybe Yul be there
Waiting for us wanderlings
Watching over us always


Please join the Yul activity here;

Monday, January 9, 2012

Fitness & Health with Dr. Gabe Mirkin: Environmental Factors Associated with Breast Cance...

Fitness & Health with Dr. Gabe Mirkin: Environmental Factors Associated with Breast Cance...: A recent report says that " Lifestyle Changes Prevent One-Third of Cancers ", and that fewer than 10 percent of breast cancer cases are inhe...

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Wolf In Dog's Clothing? Black Wolves May Be First 'Genetically Modified' Predators

Wolf In Dog's Clothing? Black Wolves May Be First 'Genetically Modified' Predators


Indeed that we are the harmonious blending of body, ...


Roots take wings to fly the free skies

always dig deeper
arbourtoreum motto
overheard over soft heads
buzz wires with your dew
Symbiotic life depends
Codependent tree
Cocreative being
Corelative life
full of glory be
once eons of nights push past
twined burlap sacks hold tight
Have your fill of the fullness of soil
let it curl between your furled rivlets
making wide your berth
a new day dawns
for meet and greet trees
never flinching always swaying
never grinding sometimes creaking
as you as tree life have always gone this way
slipped beneath the screams of other plants
you never yelled like my philadenrons
you took your fate like a slab of meat
as you like it, to go with the flow of destiny
always always unafraid
how you knew how to
stand your ground so tall and proud
grandfathered into existence this quality of yours
besides your fine grain of rings circling years around you
even after the high-pitch of chainsaw in the distant fields
came inching closer to your neck of the woods
remember how I heard the noise first
my heart lept from my heart into your segmented arms dalled limbs
staring me down and you showed me
how to make heart wreaths from your spliced prunings
I tried to warn you
to save you
to sit in you all day and night
a vigil of a tree-sitter
a verifiable tree-hugger
a definite tree-lover
but you were already dead or very near
hanging by a thread your lifeblood sucked
like marrow from your sap
rotted from the inside out tree cancer burls
we make clocks out of these
by the thought of human's insensitivity to this dead wood almost
but that's ok being fenced in like this?
heard in the after distance an altar by the highway
the slishslosh of snowy in day on a January sunday
as cars make double time to return to slow down
as the sunsets so low too bright for eyes
you trees stand between me and the sun
but the sun is winning
as my eyes can no longer see for me beyond the stars and between the hours
of hazy misty foggy auras of past tree life
of trees that should have been there
to stop my blindness now
unaccustomed to the intensity of life without trees
make a speech for i am speechless
not painless save you of the white birch society
as gripping is this hypnotic passing of shadows
flash past me trees on the long drive
first igniting then searing my brain
ocular so tied into the brain
finding my hands cannot block the sun
when holding them up to sunglassed eyes
as endless as summer searching for stop stop stop
these trees incessant and endless mindnumbing starbursts
overpowering overwhelming my whelping mind
like a bright lighthouse or blue oysters
a cult of more cowbell at this bovine's expense
when then, what did I see
but a billion universes I cannot explain
how funny to see me sitting there stunned and stoned
by artless artifice
when full force open to eternity these lasers
burnt rivulets into my mushbrain full of gray trees now
of canaries mice and men and dull yellow birds in brain cages
salvaging my soul, a saving grace; the light that saved me
who's shadows flicker across the cerebellum
blinking of those twinkly light bulbs
the on off of neuroluminosity this way of being able to see
and now my eyes can see their own vessel as all is blood red as sun now
in my ocular migraine called ouch
tears of crimson tinge fall down like iron bullets to the dground
falling down rain stained tears
to meet on your feet
never hold back the potential of the seeded one
stretch up to the sky and tell your story
as you see the big picture clearly now
which is for us quite small considering your size
as we remember a time, not long ago
when humans were beechnuts, not as kind to you
as you were to us
sheltering us from swelter no matter the weather
storms sleet and hail
keeping us warm through the ice ages
they nailed a sign on you
No Trespassing
Trees; Forgive Us Our Trespasses
let us now lean upon you
adore your massive elephantine trunks
as they feed us your sublime life energies
God gave us this proud stand of trees
in the Co-Creator Universe we feed
So never remove the source, the tree
from the equation
as you've held your ground for so long
gave us swingtime on willowy branches
from your limbs we played Tarzan all day
rounded your trunk holding hands and singing
ring round the Rosey
made love on your blanket of fallen leaves
the persian carpet of longing desires
we dreamed there
pined for your forested floors
to cover us one day
but today
we sup under the fragrant pines
lungs take in the airy breeze
blowing in the wind
a lovely day
to sup en pleine aire
with a bear and a picnic basket
please delve deeper into the abyss of our shadow'd souls
known as the human unconsciousness,
only trees are conscious in this sleepy illusion
as we are the trees worst nightmares
so waken from the sleep state of the unconscionable
the time has come when we as humans
if we are to find anything of worth here
we have found this thing in the tree
this pure life force of radiant energy
as anything can be humanly possible
especially surrender to the force
that rocks the cradle of the earth
recall the times when
we were all one
the sad remembering
Yo trees
help us wake up!
wake up and smell the Yew Brew
as deep as four fathoms five
these redwood trees did reach
all the way to our Echo Beach
roots and all went down, down, down
dug in deeper the low down
as beauties balanced YinYang
as these forces converged in
energy held in que
all perfect as it should be
in the Art of Zen and tree gardens
we found peace
the trees clamber to be climbers
long to make us a coat of their bark
they never bark orders
but subtlely awakened us
with LOVE
to touch down and reach the unfurled sky
gather close
touch the sun's illuminating rays
feel warmed by the solar energizer
engineered by trees interface
in the middle of all kinds of weather
Listen Empathe
I hold you near
signal for the time of the regrowth sequence
forgoe retribution with redistribution
think not of the past but focus on the future
our ers as your parent-caregiver
are now our heirs apparent needing to live
grow along with us,
in our own time,
and through the many generations to come
as the human faces the cold future winds
with your hand hold us still
keep us from quivering and shivering and turning blue without you
it is a pipeline to our souls
your trunks we yearn to embrace as one of us
holding unto a memory stored in your data banks your tree dna
as there comes a time when our own grandparents walked this lane alone
thinking the same thing; what does the future hold
so they held onto you with their dear life
and prayed you'd hear them and anwer their prayers
and you prayed along with them
a direct connect to the maker of all that is this
here and now on the planes of illusion
the dream mets us were we stood standing as one LOVE
to make a stand
this stand of trees holds poignant ground
All who would live in you
bush babies, sparrows and chickadees
crows and ravens, too numerous variety
all differentiated by the differential of variant energies
all needed to become the unified LOVE field we need to escape the illusion
into the world we were meant to live in as ONE LOVE
squirrels and hawks, racoons and others who woefully longed for the shade
in the dry desert
in the mid-summer noon-day sun
trees were like the cool midnight moon
bathing us in effervescent life energies
and always their unbroken their wings the tree rings did record
in record time the memories of our energies here
we are unaware of this
their tenacious grasp lived in both worlds at once
and they were always at their best when up to bat
rooting for us humans
giving us the needed oxygen to go the miles we have gone before
always gave us sure footing, to behoove us
never to make a snare for our feet unless some other vine was unintentionally invited
inside our Eden
caught us off guard as these monstrous living enties could only watch us
destroy them
without tearing our hearts out and eating them
to hear their tormented cries would drive us insane
so we cannot hear their pitch entirely
as axe had dug deep into the heart of this being
we think can't help but feel sorry for the trees
Our new renewal is to make tree life happen
to give a wider berth than normally alotted
as trees needs this doing to making
as so alive we will become when this forest undulates with energies alive
full of hidden potential unleashed by life
this hustle bustle of bursting through jungle life
and at the same time we sew through the see-through
those seams that bind us all together
so that all will be as it did seem to be then as it is now
it is so
to be so now we sew. we repair. we fix.
idyllic, we make the world
so sophoric as altogether we are divine
the keepers of this forested glen
this utopia of cornucopia from plant life tofruit bearing trees
heavily-laden with heavy turned light bodied offerings
of us feasting at the harvest table
no longer a threshing machine to cut off life
but a place where life is imbued with continual goodness of good life
energies of noncombustible perpetual energy
emotionally satisfying our cravings for life in all ways
our tables bursting;
we then sing like birds in the trees we made to happen
as keepers of the garden
we keep healthy
thank-you trees for many your rich blessings
as birds of a feather kindly take to the skies
singing songs of the bluebird of happiness
a whole other world we make it here and now
And so on this day, all the trees died
as soon humans followed
and on this day, one of many
the planet became a lonely place again
as the linear protrusions of dead roots
lifted their lifeless fingerlings
to a cold gray everyday sky
hands held tight, close the heart of the
earth's internal beat we cannot hear
but the tree listens and grows according to the seasons
and in witner the energy stored practically used for
all intents and purpose to bare more fruit
for all the children who inhabit this wooden house
a treehouse of sorts, a fun place to raise the kids
around the fresh air that oozes from each pungent
cedar and oak, every endless song of multiple variety
bore their nakedness
to the elements year after year
stoic trees
you rise from the container
which held you in her arms
held this tightly all together
wrapped up like a beautiful present
always feel the heart beat
the living sap of sugar energy
coating the viens of woody flesh with plant life
in lieu of rocks
trees are alive like us
sentient beings facing
the same quandry of life and death
food or none
water or drought
good times or bad
all this round mound of mother earth
into the woods,
the earth under the trees
grows rich with her growth
year after year
leaving leaves as compost
a composition as lovely as a painting
breath deeply now as the life under rooted timber
inhaled her deep oxygenated soul
so within her being I could feel her lung-like branches
billowing in my face this
clean oxygenated air refreshing my mind body and soul
thanks to the trees
all said when they tasted her fresh air process
breath out the energized tree molecules
let loose the trees to live
to breath and let breath the other creatures
who inhabit the
holding onto their mother like a hug
deep into the ground the tress holding onto
for so dearly, so tenderly the earth in turn
carresses the trees, giving way as need be
allowing the fingers of earth's lungs
to expand into yet unknown reaches
finding the sun, exchanging light for air
clinging and clutching
the tree makes soil for the earth's
consciousness want verdant green firelds of trees
in the wind
finding sun
as all interdependents
know that
they need to survive
by being one amazing energized
infused with respect each element
bends forms and reforms matter
as spirit, trees echo our lives
youngster, teenager and adult
as all life is replayed in trees
the rings in their trunks
speak of time in eons not years
as ancient trees
the ancestor now fossilized
leave behind a wealth of living knowledge
of the health and welfare of a community
before man
had ever touched foot upon the earth
the trees stood before
waiting for us
with open branches
holding onto us, reaching deep into the memory soil
the knowing woman
mother earth
and into our hearts
replace the soil with yearly toil
their lives
our hours


TReeS as SoUL sUrVivAL

Trees As Soul Survival
Suddenly there was a disconnect
a brake with reality on this sad day
when the clear-cut loggers led the way
to destroy the very thing that would be
our only means of survival
and on this day, and one of many days to come
humans would reduce the land to something less than
and no longer could we call the earth
as no longer could we renew our soul in her
as earth needs soil from the trees and now the planet
could not sustain itself the very life it had always been
because humans forgot
the importance of trees
now that all the trees were dead or dying

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Emily Dickinson Returns~~!!!"Sown in dishonor"! #62

A 1631 painting by Pietro Cortona.Ananias of Damascus restores the sight of Saint Paul.
"Sown in dishonor"! by Emily Dickinson

"Sown in dishonor"!
Ah! Indeed!
May this "dishonor" be?
If I were half so fine myself
I'd notice nobody!

"Sown in corruption"!
Not so fast!
Apostle is askew!
Corinthians 1. 15. narrates
A Circumstance or two!

Emily is being, in my opinion, somewhat sardonic and sarcastic for a good reason. She feels St Paul is biased against Baptizing. And in Emily's mind Baptism is extremely important.

It is her tone in this brief blurb of a poem which indicates Emily's true feelings regarding this passage of the Bible.

In regards to a Biblical quote Emily indeed has a definite, if not, contraversial opinion. In referencing Corinthians 1:15 directly in the last stanza of her poem, Emily clearly states a brashness (in those days her even questioning the Bible would be considered much more than brash and Emily if she voiced this would have become somewhat of a priah). Thus, her stark wording in her poem "Sown in dishonor"! Emily hit the nail on the head, and I am sure this was somewhat of an emotional release for Ms Em.

In particular Emily states "Apostle is askew" speaking of St. Paul (who wrote Corinthians). What exactly does Emily mean? It took me a google to the Bible quote today! And I am reading through the entire Corinithian section to fully understand Emily's raised ir.

I am thinking that Emily is quite upset at Paul being happy that he did not baptize any of the so called "sinners" other than the two sainted men called "Crispus and Gaius".

Emily does not like the fact that St and Apostle Paul feels that he did not come to baptize the community of believers, rather, that he came to spread the Gospel of Christ;

Cor 1:14 "I thank God that I baptized none of you, but Crispus and Gaius".

"For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel: not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of no effect." Cor 1:17

As Paul was of the belief, or thought that his mission from Christ the Power and Wisdom of God was only to spread the word, and not to Baptize.(what did Paul think of John the Baptist? One would have to wonder about the exact reasons as to why St Paul felt this way).

Emily does believe any of it, and in my opinion, especially that Baptism is essential to Christiandom and that St Paul is incorrect by not placing Baptism as an absolute priority of his Godly mission.

"Not so fast!
Apostle is askew!
Corinthians 1. 15. narrates
A Circumstance or two!"

Maybe Emily was aware of, or was a member of the Baptist community in Amherst M.A. as Baptism does play a pivotal role in this religious sect of Christianity. I'd have to ask if this is in fact the case, or if Emily had other friends or family who was sharing the Baptist philosophy with Emily. As well as Anabaptist philosophy in the community of Amherst M.A. during Emily's time.

Contraversy! Never to see the light of day. I wonder if Emily could have discussed these issues at the local quilting club meetings with the ladies. What did the ladies discuss? Could Emily only write such things in her personal poem/diaries?
Points to ponder!

An brief aside from Chiccoreal: re Emily's motivations as per her undisclosed and unpublished in her lifetime poems;

Ahhh!!! A biblical poem today! And it is showing a bit of the Emilian sardonic sarcasm in a refreshingly modern way! (who were suppose to read these "hidden" poems anyway, kept as a diary of emotions or feelings never to see the light of day whilst Emily were alive!). Lest now she rests knowing her release meant the release of such artful poems of a socio-political-literary turn. Indeed Emily's turn to be the spirit of conscious finally! Was it really that stuffy and limiting as per women who'd like to say things in the open but could not. Wonders what Em would think about blogging and the internet in general? Did she foresee the day of true free speech? Never to fear now!!

Monday, January 2, 2012

Magpie #98 The River Flows Gently Smoothly Softly

Magpie #98 The River Flows Gently Smoothly Softly
The River
a gentle man
who sanctimoniously
crosses himself twice
before he delves into her dwelling place
as she barely reaches the river
holding onto branches
softly swaying to the sounds
of riverrocks burblings
twisting and turnings
a slip sliding of over-flow
endless streams of incoming
never held back
trying out his heel to toe stability
trying to stop the endless push by wind
waves cat paws scratch
reclaiming his property rights
eroding his power of tenacity
his backwash banks
sliding into her carried along
her swift-footed stream
mounts water pressure
erode his resolve to his earth, his soil
and then she plows through
his earthen domain
as he
in the process
causes her edges
flickery wisps of water
without end
she bears down
asserting her right to resist him
to exist
this old river woman
there where two energies met
God had touched them then
right there
made them one
Earth and River
first contact had been made
as rocks fused them
melding them like steel
as she refused to remember or recall
the pungent smell of ozone in the process
the night of the thunderous dark lightening
made them merge as one
pray for your
powerful energies
to set the slaves free
now formally let go into the wild rafting wilderness
released the hounds
those dogs who howl
when the water reflects the moon
dipping into the refreshing pools
of Bethesda
whose wild horse spirit
layered beneath
deep realms of consciousness
clear visions
of evergreens
lit up like a holy tree
as all is as calm surface
as one would expect
from a woman of means
who'd push these ancient waters
the aquifer
once atrophied
his lush red clay
slathered as she slithered
empathetic powers
aware of every movement
every moment
every electric impulse
ephemeral spray her atomizer
brackish depths
she is an unknown
igniting her sparkling mix
of earth
sky and
utterly transformed
he caresses her
snake-like she
meanders like a banshee
far away
past time
past space
into the holding pattern
she of the two sisters
shores his heart
giving shelter
held in a permanent
whirlpool of twirl
holding eternity
is her element
space echoes endlessness too
the magic red canoe bobs like a life buoy
waiting her toss of hair
a spaceship
as this he gives and she take
echoes this exchange
of divine ultra feminine
and sacred entirely masculine
pushing against swells
his thighs waded out to her
her thick brush like seaweed
and trunks of trees
she let go
and he did also
bending into her
eroding her unresolved energies
into a pool of bliss
as her majestic rivers renewed
his fullness slowly unleashed
to oh's and awe's
her mournful mountings
became gentle trickles of raindrops
condensed from passion's
heaving cleaving wanton desires
that tickled her smooth touchable surface
as she closed her eyes and feel sleep
bright green and gold shafts of light
awoke her
this morning time
transcend her transparentness
the banks shimmering
leaving her qualifying contours
the thing about water
as it made her
cold and damp
standing there still naked in the sun
the cold breeze sent shivers down
her spiny backbone
essential river woman
shivering with emotion
now the shaking like aspens
recalled how she did convulse
the day his passion enfolded her
her body remembered now
this earth between her skin
with life of the lit sun-tipped
his energizing powers
earth man magic
snaking around her tributaries
meander hither and yon
around her maiden hair
beyond view
beyond any formal vision
love had known before
A blustery sky on New Year's Day
(the clouds looks like an angel to me!)
Today we are having a blustery snowstorm. The temperature is going to dip and we are suppose to get 100 km winds. I guess it is time to bring in the sprinkler!

New Years 2012 was uneventful for me other than the fact that we are embarking upon the ominous year of our supposed doomsday or is it, hopefully; ascension?

Please listen to this interesting podcast by the amazing Graham Hancock!

Happy New Year 2012!!!
Doom or Gloom or Glory
we in this together!!!