Painted words

The skies filled my head with a thousand words,

pinpricks of ink dotted the invisible lines

filling them with the finest of art

channeled tales from beyond.

They had no name,

those who whispered their secrets to me

in the deepest realms of sleep I wandered

with quill in hand and a pot of color

as dark as the midnight skies,

I wrote as the eyes remained closed

and locked in the world where everything spun

and nothing much seemed to make sense,

just ancient markings on parchment

stacked in random disarray

I sorted through so many pages

knowing that somewhere within

the secrets lay.

I gathered them in my mind,

mixing them like flour and salt

and yeast to rise them higher

hoping the truth would surface

and lay like cream on the top of the jar,

yet all that remained were foreign tongued symbols,

marked with some importance

in a fiery red mark like the dying sun on a horizon.

I closed my eyes as the pen began to stir,

as it swirled across the waiting cloud

I began to understand,

it wasn’t the words that were so important,

but the invisible thought between the spaces

where creativity remain waiting for exploring,

and a sign to mark as my own,

all my heart ever wanted or dreamed

was sitting there in plain view,

words that were always waiting to be made,

on pages that could only live

if I were to give a part of me.

 

It shall pass

In ancient places words live
soft, unspoken pieces
like ancient ghosts carving verse on clouds,
they will come to us in dreams,
waking us from the sleep so very deep
carrying us back in time
to our beginning,
leaving us questioning
the truth of our souls.
The trees will move past,
beyond our control they will move forward
as we sit and ponder their mysteries
they will shroud us in their canopy
sustaining our breath
yet continually exceeding our grasp,
branches too far
too high,
to climb.
We will see the light break through
as the wind meanders through their leaves
and we take comfort in their shade,
they will cover all we’ve imagined important
laying to waste with their might
surviving past our feeble days
strong and rooted
in the Mother earth,
grasping for life as we ponder fate,
they dont wonder
they just exist and move on
stronger and mightier
than cloud words that drift
out of view.
Majestic visions speak of time
when we were fragments of stars
and trees began as a small seed
planted in the mind
nourished,
loved
and taking root
exceeding the places man built brick by brick,
encompassing the city
of our dreams,
showing that strength conquers stone.

NaPoWriMo-Day 10 (Spineless)

I could say the shelves are empty but that would be a lie:

The Law of attraction led me here

To find a cannon, a heart, and now this 

The Prophet sandwiched between

E-Cubed and The power of now.

I reached out for the Tao Te Ching

And instead found Notes from the universe,

Which then led to an Inferno

That burned like the letters to a young poet.

There was a Hero that was truly a Gift from the Sea,

So stopping awhile to study up in A Course in Miracles

It was there where I found Real Love.

Now the husband would have liked

For me to write of his shelf

Where Peace, Love and BBQ live with

The tangy taste of Smoke and Spice

But Julia said no,

And I don’t wish to master the art of French cooking

Because he is the chef and cook

The Bread Bakers apprentice will remain above

While my favorite reads will dwell where I sit

Cross legged on the carpet

With Positive energy and most of all

Heart Whispers that still calls to me.

 
Today’s prompt comes to us from Lillian Hallberg. She challenges us to write a “book spine” poem. This involves taking a look at your bookshelves, and writing down titles in order (or rearranging the titles) to create a poem. Some fun images of book spine poems can be found here. If you want to take things a step further, Lillian suggests gathering a list of titles from your shelves (every third or fifth book, perhaps, if you have a lot) and using the titles, as close to the originals as possible, to create a poem that is seeded throughout with your own lines, interjections, and thoughts.