Wednesday, February 22, 2017

ravensong








a threshold, she stood,
feet, bare, body clad,
in white cotton raiment
swirling about her ankles,
as the wind
sang like a lute,
upon the still night sky.


a woman's song
carried upon the breeze,
playing with the edges
of light and dark,
night and day,
the precious time,
between
dusk and nightfall.


her ravensong
burst forth
from mouth,
wide open in awe,
chin upturned,
jawbone outlined,
tears precious
gifted in humble grace,
against the light
of the coming
of fresh eve.


the lyrics
danced around her shoulders,
tickling them just so -
tussling hair,
three feet long -
burnt sienna skied tresses.


a dreamcatcher
she was,
weaving lives
within lives,
connecting the dots,
with her fingertip raised
pointed at stars,
moving them
across Father Sky -
to meld into one another -


just
like
lovers.


this is her solace -
the ancient firmament
where Gods and Goddesses exist,
eternal,
where celestial wars rage,
she pulls both arms outward
with heart, full -
like some majestic holy crucifixion
and met the maelstrom head on -

for this
is
all
she
knows.


- forward -

and she jumps
happily,
into this rebirth,
this knowing and unknowing,
learning and unlearning,
growing and dying,
smiling while screaming inside -


to lead
not only herself
but others -
into the great abyss,
the infinite chasm,
the unknown universe,
the holy grail,
the swan songs of birds,
the most precious calling
to the wild souls of nature,
beyond all
that
is.


a threshold, she stood
feet, bare, body clad,
in white cotton raiment
swirling about her ankles
as the wind
sang like a lute
upon the still night sky.



Words and Painting © Susan Marie



On Soundcloud HERE 

 

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Poetry from the Banned Seven [a global artistic activist incentive during National Poetry Month]




 City Lights photo of banned books display 1957


Please contact Timothy McPeek about this event HERE 

Timothy McPeek is organizing a fantastic artistic, activist driven, poetic event at Rust Belt Books:


This event will showcase and celebrate poetry from each of the seven countries affected by Trump's travel ban.  The material gathered in preparation would be a resource to share with the community--crucially not only among those of like mind, but with all people in a non-threatening and fundamentally human way.  It would be an opportunity to try to understand and appreciate the cultures, histories, and especially, the individuals of these countries. 

The idea is to have an exhibit of poems, very much including little stacks of copies. Visitors will be free to explore, relate inwardly,  share--and would be encouraged to take copies for dissemination in any fashion, tentatively set aside the weekend of April 14, 15, and 16th. 

On Saturday the 15th
, there would be an informal "opening": refreshments and community.  It would be wonderful if local poets from some of the affected countries could be found and invited to share their work, and/or if we could have people reading some of the poetry in the original.  Other than that, the exhibit will be self-presenting.



Here's what's needed: 

   1)  Ideas.

   2)  Research: pick a country (Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, Yemen) and find a poet/poem with which you really connect.  Then let me know the poet and country. 

   3)  Spreading the word.  Contacting individuals/groups who might be interested and willing to contribute poems or help locate native poets/speakers.  This is so absolutely open to all.


   5)  Anyone free and willing to help set up/lovingly decorate the back room of Rust Belt Books--poetry, color, fabric - before the event.

One last thing, the Iranian poet, Forugh Farrokhzad, made a 22-minute documentary (1962) about a leper colony: The House Is Black.  Subsequently, she adopted one of the children.  A screening of this film may also be a part of "Poetry From the Banned Seven." 




Please contact Timothy McPeek about this event HERE 





Sunday, February 5, 2017

The Heartbeat of Mother Earth Summit






The Heartbeat of Mother Earth Summit, a free global online symposium showcasing 36 experts (scientists, shamans, mystics, psychologists, and more) who will offer their wisdom, research, and personal guidance, all stitching us to a deeper connection with self and Nature.

Collectively, this is an incredible conversation arising from some of the new thought leaders, visionaries, and "sacred activists" of our time.

A few of the topics include: accessing your intuition, shamanic tools & practices, Jungian psychology, the Dreamtime, nature-based rituals, astrology, planetary ascension, Sacred Feminine consciousness, connecting with water & the ocean for healing, the physics of the new consciousness, plant & tree medicines, embodying the Sacred Masculine, crystal healing, the Vision Quest, Goddess spirituality, and many more.

As Jocelyn Mercado, host of the summit says, "It is a rare opportunity to connect with some brilliant minds and learn the different ways that Mother Earth is reaching out to us to join in community, heal one another, nurture the planet, and open to our full potential as healers, teachers, and spiritual warriors."

Click here to learn more. 


How it works:

The speaker series is free to those who register. Once enrolled, you can watch as few or as many of the presentations (scheduled across two weeks) as you like. There are between one and three sessions a day. Each video is available online for 72 hours after it goes "live," during which time you may access it.

If you have registered, you will be able to view interviews whenever you wish, up to 72 hours afterward (until February 13).

Same format applies for all of the speakers. If you would like to purchase unlimited access (for a year) to ALL 36 interviews, information is available on the summit's website.

I do hope that you'll join us for this very special opportunity; an unrivaled conversation about Earth, nature, soul, and our personal relationship with a much larger story.


Click here to learn more & register today.






Friday, February 3, 2017

il caffé





© Mogul


Her name was Juliana.

I met her in a coffeehouse ducking out of icy New York rainfall. I didn't notice her at first.  She is that type of woman, alone, in a dark corner, mysterious. I did not plan on staying long, wished to grab a cappuccino and get back to my flat to relax.

I made the last payment on my Jeep and desperately needed to slip out of my work clothes. Credit card in hand, I walked over to Zeke, owner of the café, to inquire about part time job openings as a barista.

That is when Juliana noticed me. 

All it took was a slight turn of my head and our eyes caught and I was blinded.  Everything around us faded into background. The only sound,  my blood, pumping, sending oxygen to my cheeks, rising, as apples in October.

She motioned to me and I nodded. Slinging my leather backpack on one shoulder, I held my books under the other arm, juggling my coffee.  She stood to help me, smiling as she approached.  She had the softest brown eyes I ever saw.  


I could stare into them forever and that evening, I did. 

She spoke, introducing herself.  I studied each strand of her mane, that of a thoroughbred, wild and shining.  It was just past shoulder length, straight and black and she kept waving it from in front of her eyes. 

She was painfully adorable.


Juliana asked if I had any plans for the evening. Shaking my head that I did not, she took my hand, leading me out of the café. 

Opening the passenger door for her, she slid into the Jeep I now owned. I knew a drive up Route 5 along Lake Erie would be a reprieve from the dankness of this day.

She popped a CD in the player and sang as I drove. Tilting my chin upward, I glanced towards her out of the corner of my eye.  No words needed to be spoken.  We both recognized that stare.       


I was falling in love with a complete stranger.