Long Swamplands Poems

this is my song,
  my love song of you,
    my land, my heart

             love for green ferns
  ...

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THE MEDICINE MAN

When I was a girl,
We lived way out back,
In the swamplands where life,
Was hard but no lack,

Of love and good humor,
And inventive fun,
We were tired but happy,
When day was done.

One evening my uncles,
Were...

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The Great Sahara desert as large as the continental United States
a deadly vast searing wasteland of sand dunes mountain high
The expansive buckle of the world's desert belt void of color
dotted by scarce oases of what...

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"The sounds of Earth is the music of my soul."

Narcissus woos a butterfly; waves strong,
Genteel stages filled pages; memoirs sound,
Earth graces life faces, pleased heaven bound,
Wrens and bluejays consonance their birdsong.

Lively swamplands prep and hopped...

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Reminiscing of past and present
Wadding through the swamplands
Hiding from the ominous intruder
Decieving the manic attempts

Partly relying on the defenseless
While still behind the strong
Standing tall beyond the enemy's grasp
Watching detailed movements

Yeah, though I walk swiftly
Amoung a...

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The mad masquerade is a vile and venomous and villianous thing
Masks in front hide bad beasts within...while wearing their smiles and their innocent 
grins
Thoughts and ideas turn into iniquity and sin
Held together with needles and...

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Feeling within consciousness contraction
We recognise its origin as fear
Arising from desire borne stagnation

Fearful to lose illusions we hold dear
Ghosts of our mind grips us thus in terror
Avalanche of arrows feeble form spears

Fear type any, it...

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circles within circles
harmony of sticks and stones and gems

his foundation flows
around my ankles
flooding ‘tween the trees
baubles of aquamarine

circles within circles
harmony of sticks and stones and gems

paradise soaked with many suns
storehouse of spinnerets
orange, yellow, blues
shining, twinkling,...

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Reminisce 

Oh, to go back to the Woodlands.
To the woods that I love so.
That sheltered my first great sorrow.
In that shadowy long ago.

Oh, to go back to the swamplands,
Where the gentle breezes blow.
And the dark...

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Having recognised we’re not body-mind,
stuporous awareness yet drags us down,
so though we know the truth, we remain blind
and in dark swamplands of fear and doubt drown.

Each offered experience wanes with time,
unless reinforced again and again,
so...

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Why for push and pull,
akin to a bull
just raging away
by night and by day?

Illusions confound
and its dark forms hound
but our joyous soul
sways not from its goal.

Slow down now, slow down 
or in swamplands drown,
blown away...

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As we look back at life journey thus far
Freezing the frames of whirring memory
Our soul within etched by many a scar
Borne of ego urge delusionary

Upon slowing down sway of attention
Ego borne fears and desires vaporise
Exiting...

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The prophecy came true in the swamplands 
She rose from the bowels of an alligator’s belly
Disengaging herself with the hands of a sorcerer
Those who saw were struck as if by lightning
She was confident and unhurried...

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