Monthly Archives: May 2014

Aside

Jet the Shape Shifter

 

 

            Samhain at midnight I shape shifted to seek the Raven’s Trove. Only then would I gaze upon the mysteries of the Dark Lady Herself. I flew to the base of the Black-oak into the murder amassing to take flight.

            “What is thy epithet?” croaked an ancient Raven. My ultra violet vision showed the crone in brilliant iridescent colors, I spoke with reverence to her etheric beauty:

            “I am she who is carbon; I am coal and the hard caress of the earth, I am the blackness who is Jet.”

            “What is thy quest?” a youngling with sapphire eyes inquired.

            “It is you my Sister and you Grandmother and HERSELF.”

            We flew past the moon; to the Mother of all trees from the beginning of time.

            The Trove: surrounded by a thousand raven fore crones. Their wealth of knowledge: past present and future; the slow secrets of trees.

            “Gather my words,” the grandmother chanted:

             

            “Listen to the Raven’s call, one to one and all to all, in the Black-oak acorns        fall, hear the Raven’s call”

           

We circled:

           

            “Red Madrone far and high; black of wing and bright of eye.

            Soar like midnight in the sky, see the Ravens fly.”

           

All was revealed, I beheld a crystal orb.

           

            “Nestled close in Cedar’s breast is hidden deep a treasure chest.

            Shiny magic is where they rest; seek the Raven’s nest.”

           

Midnight, the Goddess was afoot.

           

            “Rowan wand weaves enchantments, cast and spin and spell and craft

            In a circle in a trance; dance to the Ravens dance”

           

I circled in the center of the altar among a thousand and one ravens.

            “You are revealed,” the ancient one pronounced and my glamour vanished. I, now a plain girl without flight or the gift of bird speak, lost in the woods. “Behold,” said Grandmother only her words were left to me. “Behold…” Grandmother’s words echoed in my soul as I gazed into the orb, in my reflection the face of She who is all Lightness and Dark.

             Initiated, I found my treasure. I am Jet; I will never be just a plain girl again.

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 Illustration from the Charman Chronicles.

 

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

Calling in Sick on a Friday When it’s Not Raining. B-Town Beat Hear Lisa’s Poetry June 5 at Phoenix Tea

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Calling in Sick on a Friday when it’s not Raining

 

 

Real change lady shares her corner in front of the Sanitary Market

With me and my hat

Today I’m painting henna paisleys by donation

 

“In this months issue”, chants the real change lady,

“I’m one of the poets- buy a copy only a dollar”

 

We share spanokopita and a chai

My stuff and voice sprawling into her territory

Illustrated vegan cookie recipes

Hand made cards with cat faces and sequins

 

“Summer time and the livin’ is easy”

Ahh! Just like Janis

Elsewhere my files pile and the phone rings like a hungry baby

 

Escape market security move-alongs

Do I have a permit and report my quarters to the IRS

Don’t they know that I’m almost in high demand?

 

Piroski lunches and lattes to go- hey you hang up and listen

Buy a paper, support the arts, and sing along

 

I put out more product: self-published manifestos

Lavender scented jewelry- origami cat toys with dangly ribbon bits

 

Real change lady drops a handful of coins in my hat

As I read one her poems out loud

Voice cracking this stolen sunny Friday

I better dance when I sing “Fever”

People seem to like that

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Peace Crane by Lisa Noble, Poets West in Burien Phoenix Tea 7-8:30