Drunk Love Heart

DRUNK LOVE HEART - THE CD!

2011-12-16T12:28:00.000-08:00

Meet my baby...

I poured all my heart in to this. All the way. This infusion of sound, melody, words, muse, poems, laugh–tears, ancestors, rivers, rocks, trees, friends, help, love… is designed to pluck your heart strings, make you feel deeper, break open and embrace joy.

THANK YOU – Rory Anton of Pure Fun Records for intuitively knowing the rhythms of my heart. Your beautiful original music and sound compositions make the poems come alive!

Click the photo above or link to purchase physical copy.

Digital downloads coming soon!

SAMPLE IT HERE:
01 Opening Drunk Love Heart by akka b. by drunkloveheart

PURCHASE HERE:

IT WILL BREAK YOUR HEART - OPEN!

2011-12-06T11:07:00.001-08:00

I AM CRAZY EXCITED ABOUT THIS:

That's all I have to say.

oops, one more thing...

Releasing CD for public purchase SOON!

TEDx Realized

2011-12-03T23:46:00.001-08:00

What an honor! So blessed!

Thank you TEDx Ojai Women for inviting me to be part of such an amazing ensemble!

Photo Credit: Jodi Womack

For a more in depth look at this delicious day -

check out the blog review below!

http://coachlisab.blogspot.com/2011/12/relating-to-audience-tedxwomen-style.html

I AM Gratitude

2011-11-23T16:38:00.001-08:00

Gratitude is a skill. Don't ever let anyone tell you it's not. To know 'thank you' in your bones is much different than knowing it off the tip of your tongue. You've got to want it, strive for it, grow it and be willing to friend (or kill) the beast that guards the gates to it. I'm not always grateful - I'm often a spoiled little sour puss. BUT when gratitude hits me over the head and enters my heart -

DAMN I FEEL GOOD!!

And when I feel good, naturally I want to give it away...

---------------------------------------------

3 things I am grateful for this season:

---------------------------------------------

DECEMBER 1st

I've been invited to speak at the local TEDx Conference being hosted in Ojai, California. Whooooooohooooooo!! Between an amazing line up of brilliant women, I will be sharing about the magic of living from the heart, and what happens when we give ourselves...

PERMISSION TO PLAY

Read event details here:

http://www.ted.com/tedx/events/4226

http://nomorenylons.com/press-release/

---------------------------------------------

DECEMBER 4th

A good cause event in Ojai (that I will be speaking/poeming at) benefiting the Pine Ridge Lakota Oglala Sioux Indian Reservation in South Dakota. Please click HERE for further details about how you can contribute from near or far.

---------------------------------------------

DECEMBER 10th

SAVE THE DATE

I'm having a BABY!!

But I'm not telling what kind - YET

You're invited to the birth

OJAI December 10th 7-9pm

DETAILS COMING SOON!

It's gonna be magnificent.

If you're not on my email list and would like to be notified, please leave your email in the comment section of this post or email me at: drunkloveheart@gmail.com

HoneyMOONshadoW

2011-11-23T15:22:00.001-08:00

My capacity to hold, experience and express love seems directly related to how willing I am to examine, process and let go of darkness and pain. What I've learned over the past several months of unusually heavy self-reflection, is when faced with gnawing hurt - go deeper. Walking into, and not away from the aching place disempowers the negative self-story where rage and grief breed.

Letting back Light

and

Love

Watching What I Think

2011-11-22T17:21:00.001-08:00

Her lips are covered in beet juice again and her eyes have turned to green. But don't worry about the hearts slipping out the top of her head...

That's pretty normal this time of year.

Evidence of Their Influence; Evidently

2011-11-13T17:24:00.001-08:00

I could leave poems where I find them,

but they're always insisting I write them down.

Evidence of their influence; evidently

A Poem of Dancing Burden

2011-10-25T11:03:00.000-07:00

Sink now into your heart Dear One.
You've been riding the shoulders of your own calm
These strange and heavy days; climb down.

Release yourself of the burden that is you.
Allow thyself - dissolve,

Into the calm and strangest place;
The most wondrous of every place, by every magnitude.
You've been dancing around the calm,
These strange and heavy days;

Now is time for letting...

The Calm Dance You.

Sweet Big Tiger

2011-10-21T00:11:00.000-07:00

Sweet Big Tiger with your sweet big toes and your tricksy big tiger tail. Savage like you're supposed to be savage, and passionate like you're supposed to be passionate, and powerful like all the best. But who gave you those rabbit paws Sweet Big Tiger? Who gave you that rabbit chortle, sweet big, fierce big, merciless big, restless tiger?

Fierce Little Rabbit

2011-10-20T14:12:00.000-07:00

FIERCE LITTLE RABBIT with your fierce little rabbit ears and your swift little rabbit eyes. Soft like you're supposed to be soft, and bouncy like you're supposed to be bouncy, and loveable like all the best. But who gave you those tiger claws Fierce Little Rabbit? Who gave you that tiger growl, fierce little, cuddly little, lovely little, happy rabbit?

Dear Sweet & Grungy Poets

2011-10-12T14:35:00.000-07:00

DEAR SWEET & GRUNGY POETS; dream thinkers, heart thumpers, whisper makers, wonder starters, morning sippers, midnight blinkers... thank you. And once again, THANK YOU. ✤

Lay an Egg

2011-10-11T16:03:00.000-07:00

... Minutes before running out the door to read a fresh batch of poems for a live audience, I received a message from a friend.


Photo Credit: Jonas MacPhail

"Lay an egg" he said.

Not

Break a leg

Drink a keg

The man said, "lay an egg."

(And for some reason it made the whole world peel back
like that snake skin I was writing about earlier today... )

I don't have to get hurt ------- to be lucky.

Or be under the influence of...

Some

'Outside'

Me.

Just lay the darn egg

It's already made

It just needs to be laid

And.

It's free.

Photo Credit: Atma Cornelius

Me. Laying an egg at The Ojai Art Center October 10th 2011

An event sponsored by The Bubble Publication.

baby Acorns

2011-10-07T00:58:00.000-07:00

Thank you brother atma for your photo shopping magicalness!

Finally 36!!

phew.

MADE IT

Now What?

aKorn b.read?

tree corns

roots up

oh fine,

all write

about...

I just have one or two more things to say... and they have nothing to do with birth, or coming of age, or rounding the bend, or where have I been, or what's for dinner, or what's my favorite whatever. NO. The one or two things I have to say involve...

Thinking LIGHT

Which either has to do with thinking about light, or thinking lightly, or a nice practical thinking light.

I think I've just said

the one or two more things.

Happy

akka b.

Please feel free to congratulate me.

He SAID

2011-10-05T20:11:00.000-07:00

SIGH

A Pomme for Steve Jobs...

2011-10-05T17:46:00.000-07:00

The APPLE of the World's Eye ~ Good JOBS!!

Thank you STEVE!!

You get the whole apple now. xo

Mystery Trusters

2011-10-05T14:36:00.000-07:00

Meet Your Tree

2011-09-26T21:32:00.000-07:00

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth.” ~Hermann Hesse

Meet Your TREE ~ all photos © akka b.

Listen & Receive

Be Still & Believe

Sing

River Runs Through Me

2011-09-22T17:51:00.000-07:00

 Thank you Tom for sharing this video!

RIVER RUNS THROUGH ME

Inevitable it is, that the creek will reach the sea

The creek knows this, and so does the sea

So the trickling waters; sometimes an exuberant melody

Sometimes a violent thunder of pressing

Wraps her curiosity around roots of shore plants

To see how long they will hold

And softens sharp stones with her willingness

And wills the rain to fall more down

And surrenders to the sun, that might will her into rain

And release her to the sea,

Before she can soften all the sharp stones,

Uproot all the mountain shrubs

And feed small purple dragonflies - samples

Of her industrious continuity...

Death From Itself

2011-09-09T15:41:00.000-07:00

Who am I to keep death from itself?

Would I push a birthing infant back inside my womb?

Stick a cork in it?

Who am I to keep death from itself?

A child, born of seed, seeks its own light

Knowing as a tree how to siphon water into its capsule

And break through the very soil, which held it to its growth

Who am I to keep death from itself?

Where does the soil for birth begin?

If not from the ashes of what has come to an end?

Who am I to keep death from myself?

Denying it, its simple goal, of life

Re: turn ing

I MARRY MYSELF

2011-08-23T20:11:00.000-07:00

dearly

loved

take my hand

I arrive at this altar

apprehensive

Terrified

to say the things

I'm about to say:

Please love me,

hold me,

Never let

I'll

leaving

tears

with

you

Promise to remind

me of beauty
my soul

Should ever I lose sight of
my deep significance

I'll be letting my dreams

on you;

rouse you

Promise to laugh

at my conviction
Only when I pass

under shadow
of doubt

I share my

Passion/

fruit

Stay

Even when it feels

too precious;

too breakable

Please stay - in the believing land

I trust you

I pray you trust me too

Trust

Willingness. Laughter. Invention. Enthusiasm. Intelligence. Humanness. Holiness. Half-baked. Full-baked. Unripened still.

dearly

loved

gathered in me today

hold my hand, love my heart, say you will...

love yourSelf.

i love mySelf.

marry yourSelf.

i marry mySelf.

promise

i promise.

i do.

*

Photos by Raksha Boiteau

SHE CALLED ME PRACTICAL!!! SHE CALLED ME PRACTICAL!! PLEASE GIVE HER MONEY!!!

2011-08-23T13:42:00.000-07:00

Photo © Thomas Lascher

I don't even know how people can have brains the way this person has a brain. Colleen Wainwright is like a one woman hurricane of effortless braininess. Probably because she's a Virgo and I am forever mystified by Virgos. But it might be because she called me PRACTICAL and I am especially mystified by 'practical'. A practical Virgo called me A PRACTICAL POET!!! But don't be mislead by the term 'brainy.' I would never call anyone brainy unless they could make me laugh my head-off while reaching for the box of tissue because I'm simultaneously crying my heart out.

She's doing an amazing thing: She's raising $50,000 by her 50th birthday for a fabulous nonprofit called WRITEGIRL. At the time of this posting she's already raised $31,000 and she has until September 13th to pull in the last $20,000 and beyond! So after you read the interview with yours truly, please go donate loads of cash or a few big heart infused dollars to this shining purpose.

CLICK PIC TO READ INTERVIEW WITH AKKA B.

photo by Jonas Llewellyn MacPhail

CLICK HERE TO DONATE TO THE 50-FOR-50 FOR THE WRITEGIRL FUNDRAISING EXTRAVAGANZA!!

42 RULES OF ABSURDITY:

2011-08-18T16:17:00.000-07:00

There are no rules
Therefore, you will have to make your own
But
Even when you do
They will have to be undone
And when you do something once
It can never be done twice
In the same way
It was once done
Or undone
Absurdity
Is not a standard
And you won't receive a degree
To be measured
By anyone elses standard
Of absurdity
My absurdity
Ritual
Usually begins
With 50 ton bricks
Weighting me to my bed
Dazed
Blah
But blah ferocious
Maybe I'll start singing
Or take off all my clothes
Or put on all my clothes
Or say something controversial
Out loud
Or peel things off my walls
Or spill ink on my sheets
Or pretend that I am still 5
Or 95
And that I don't really care
Anymore
About anyone else
Making me
More
Or
Less
Absurd
Ity

STARS

2011-08-13T21:21:00.000-07:00

Walking

out

catch

fat

stars

distant

field

'neath

mama

cat

moon...

INDIAN DREAM KICKER

2011-08-07T20:06:00.000-07:00

Words that woke me from my nap today. 

To remember I did a quick sketch.

Click on image to see it WHOLE 

THE RASCAL 

Kickin' me awake all the time 

"Heart Roots": THE SPECIAL GIFT OF THE IRREGULAR ME.

2011-08-02T19:07:00.000-07:00

Hello EVERYBODY!!!!!

The fun part about being me is... being me.

And the funnest part about being me - being me,

Is that I get to share that me, with YOU.

Lots of times I am just regular me, going around in my regular-me way.

BUT

When I want to... (and sometimes when I don't).

I have a special talent for morphing into the Irregular Me.

THE SPECIAL GIFT OF THE IRREGULAR ME

IS THAT I CAN HEAR

HEART WHISPERS

(There, I've said it and I won't take it back)

When it happens, it feels like a

WATERFALL POURING

Into the top of my head

(Maybe that's why my hair is white in that one spot)

The Waterfall of Whisper

Shows me pictures, sound, information and feelings that have to do with the heart of a thing or person; Root, Core, Leaves, and/or Reaching Purpose.

So now that you know that, I want you to know this:

For the first time AND for a very limited time, I am offering...

Personalized and ORIGINAL

'Message-Heart-Art'

At a very reasonable cost!

After the limited time is over, this service will still be available,

BUT at a very unreasonable cost.

What you get for a very reasonable

or unreasonable cost:

* Original (collectible) artwork and poetry made especially for you and signed by akka b.

* Includes magical healing powers for enhancing your creative life

(The ones that come from you and will always be with you)
* Plus, maybe a very special twig, branch or rock that I covet. :)

Current reasonable cost: $99 (U.S)

Size and theme to be determined by The Powers That B.

International Orders Welcome!

FOR MORE DETAILS,

or to ask me why I'll need a photo of you,

OR TO PLACE AN ORDER,

please email me directly:

drunkloveheart@gmail.com

inLove,

akka b.

Growing Confidence

2011-08-01T23:43:00.000-07:00

After pushing around mounds of soil for growing things; raking out small and large pebbles; making some nice shapes and putting water places - I sat down and watched.

Nothing happened.

Realizing I watered prematurely - I enthusiastically went off to collect any kind of seeds to push in the ground. Collecting, for me, is instantly gratifying and easily accomplished. After all, collections can be found anywhere and made from anything (if you have an eye and ear for them).

So I brought back piles of "seeds" - and sat and watched.

Still nothing happened.

"Well I have these seeds, and I have this soil, nicely raked, and I've already watered," I thought out loud, "so why isn't anything growing?"

Turns out I still hadn't planted the seeds I had been sitting on; holding in my hands, caressing in my pockets.

It dawned on me, after sometime, that that was the issue - THE NOT PLANTING ISSUE. It seemed resolvable; but then there was the matter of what to plant first, and where, what time of day, what month, in what sequence, how many; should I buy a book, take a class? Hmm?

So many questions to keep me from planting the seeds I already had, in the ground I had already tilled. So I thought about it for a while...

Nothing happened.

So I thought about it a while more... But of course, thinking only lends itself to more thinking...

Here's what I thought:

What happens if I do plant the seeds, and they do actually grow? Won't I then have to tend them, and weed them, and water them more, and sing to them of growing? Will I have made myself more work? Will I have made myself more liable should something go awry?

OR will I have made myself a feast?

A banquet of self-nurturing; Self-proclaiming; Self-Reaching?

Leap of sQuirrel

2011-07-27T23:38:00.000-07:00

There was a THUMP!

A sQuirrel landed on the eve of the house near where I was working in the grass. (Yes, sometimes I work in the grass). He was a big fatty of a bloke determined to reach the tree branch above my head. I didn't measure, but the limb must have been a good 10 feet or more from the eve. He knew it too. As I watched him assess the distance - perched on the very edge - he prepared to jump - then backed away. He did this a couple times; pacing across the small stretch of roof, considering all his options. By the way - he totally looked down; eying the distant ground where I was sitting. Hmn... ground squirrel or tree squirrel? Either choice was life or death, make it or break it kind of crazy. But this beast was not the type to bother with the long route. What he really wanted was the branch, because the branch was the gateway to a posh arboreal highway fit only for the ballsiest of the squirrel kingdom.

Salivating for a glimpse of the impossible... I egged him on.

"JUMP - JUST DO IT!!"

I've been wanting to JUST DO IT for a VERY long time. And I've been "egged on" by many to take certain (creative) plunges over the past months and even years. Sure, I've bounced from eve to eve navigating possibilities, but every time I get to that edge - I manage to inch myself backwards. So you may understand why I felt personally invested in the 'Leap of Faith' of this fat bushy tailed rodent. I had no fear for him - and as it turned out - he had no fear for himself either.

HE DID IT!!!

But it was a dang close call. If he had been off by an inch it would have been sQuirrel soup in my lap. It was a thrust-of-life-belly-flop-into-dangling-leaves-and-twigs-but-land-climbing-moment-of-brilliance! Leaves fell on my head from this raucous display of enormity and that big fat little sQuirrel even paused to watch me laugh my head off at his efforts. Biggest laugh all week!

Respect dude.

Keep it COOL!

2011-07-22T14:42:00.000-07:00

The trees always have a message:

wonder

what's

inside

To My Destiny I Bow

2011-07-19T15:51:00.000-07:00

REPETITION. I remember the days when it was comfortable to repeat old patterns; those days are close still, so it's easy - easy to remember, but impossible to go back. Trying - yes. But all attempts are futile - in other words the cause for horrendous pain. Internal. But also, sometimes it comes out in a skin rash or a hurt ankle or a lost anklet or a broken shoe. Big fat sigh goes here.

The other amusing aspect of the attempt to repeat negative patterns; indulge old anger, feelings of threat, neglect, abuse, betrayal, fear and on and on... is that we usually want to blame someone or something. Well I do. And when I do, I receive the greatest therapy on earth, it's called, "RETURN TO SENDER." It pierces; like a fire-arrow straight into the solar plexus. What I attempt to resolve through an 'outside me' blame place, only ricochets back making me feel like I am dying a slow and painful death. Which in a way, I am.

There is something safe about living the way we always have. Crying the same tears, punching the same wall, blaming the same archetype. REPETITION. It's a trap and it no longer works in the context of what we have already done - (that doesn't work). It will only keep biting - and biting deeper each time - until surrender settles in.

SURRENDER always wins. Because everything we fight outside our Self is only a hologram of a pattern that exists because we have asked it to and we are accustomed to it. Therefore, the only real conquest is to dissolve the source of the hologram - the place where we project from; to bow down to the pain place within, and say, I give you up, I forgive you, I release you, I love you.

I give you up, I forgive you, I release you, I love you.

REPEATEDLY.

Clearing room for who we really are - sans smoke screens.

oh dear.

2011-07-18T15:07:00.000-07:00

Dear GOD: Please help with everything.

Thank you.

does that cover it?

FIRE FOR A MOMENT

2011-07-18T12:56:00.000-07:00

Can we speak of fire for a moment?

Can we speak freely of fire?

It's been shooting out my eyeballs.

I've been sneezing out balls of steam.

I watch people live so gently. Kindly. Openly.

But in me this thing blazes.

It does have kindness in it.

Gentleness too...

But through the prism of heat.

Too much strong.

I plan to let go soon.

Twin Lemon and a Beeswax Ball

2011-07-18T11:36:00.000-07:00

This morning in the coffee shop someone gifted me a twin-lemon and a beeswax ball. The poet in me feeds off moments like these. Knowing there is a message in everything - even if the message is as simple as - RECEIVE. But anyway... I found it an interesting combination. And absolutely I don't know what it means. But even if I did... I wonder if I would tell you.

In the wake of moon

2011-07-16T13:21:00.000-07:00

Governess of the great swell...

You ask me to trust the fill and release

Emptying being as important as filling - you repeat

(Even though the refilling receives all cheer)

And the emptying is only an illusion

And the light takes its direction from sun

But the governess must know how to hold it; still

The emptying and refill

She lets her body be perfect example

How to glow and remain the same

How to fade and remain the same

How to kiss the undeviating cycle - of beauty all the same

In the temple of full and empty

I remain

I Must Love You Blog

2011-07-15T08:22:00.000-07:00

I must love you blog. I must love you in an everyday way. Coffee foaming from my mouth, tangled hair, tired eye, or eye(s), pinched skin, blushed lips, palpitating heart beat fire bang bang blast off sort of way! I must love you blog. BIG DEEEEEEEP BREATH.

So I've been sort of unavailable. And I forgive myself for it. There are times to run screaming deep into the wooded, musk infused, lichen growing, compost carpeted tree lands, sky falling, bird calling, acorn throwing places. But, just when I think I've 'been there done that' and can resurface... boom, boom, boom, I plunge again. Dunked. By heaven? By my own prayers? Prayers I made years ago to live this way. In the all-the-way kind of way? Probably.

But every time I do - go away. I also come back. Usually more ripe, more soft, more precise, more lovely then I ever thought possible. What is possible? What are the possibilities of living in this body that I love and am growing to love? Growing to live? 

I must love you blog/I must love me. Even when I've been unavailable, there is purpose in this distance. Even in the seemingly unproductive mountain scaling times, there is purpose.

if you want to make poems... pray.

2011-06-30T11:10:00.000-07:00

If you want to make poems; pray 

Pray quietly, pray out loud 

Pray because your spirit depends on it

Pray because you deserve to be heard

And you deserve to hear 

Forces unseen

Seen

Intelligent

Laughing

In prayer we come to know where hurt is born, where dreams are born, where obstacles live, and that grace always lives

Make time to speak to yourself

To listen to Self 

To understand the language of what can't be scheduled,contained, controlled, contrived 

Pray.

Because that's where poems are made 

Where heart is heard

Where heart is asked

and love remains

TRUST IN LIFE'S COMPASSION

2011-06-03T13:21:00.000-07:00

I was having a very strenuous time in my marriage and feeling directionless about life, when my daughter - barely 3 at the time, spoke words I can only surmise were channeled by angels. We were in the bathtub, (as we often were on freezing days in Eastern Canada) and in the middle of happily playing by herself - pretending to make beer mind you - she turns to me and says...

"MOM, YOU DON'T TRUST.

WELL... YOU DO TRUST,

BUT YOU DON'T HAVE CONFIDENCE IN LIFE'S COMPASSION."

~ Raksha Boiteau

You wouldn't believe how fast I jumped out of the bathtub to write that down! Never had I heard my child use the words confidence or compassion, let alone in context or the same sentence. She of course went right back to making her beer as if the words were never uttered. 

CONFIDENCE IN LIFE'S COMPASSION

Was my lesson that evening - and always. These words never fail to help me re-root my perspective in the bigger picture. Thank you daughter.

PS... Actual bathtub's design has been changed to reflect the poet's imagination.

eye see

2011-05-28T01:28:00.000-07:00

beyond

what you said. and didn't say

why you loved. but couldn't lay

eye see

the dragon. you fight. over there

and the dragon. i fight. over here

eye see

why swords. might seem. useful

and shields. might seem. necessary

eye see

why you might like

and i might like

hiding

in caves. with swords. and shields. and dragons

i see.

i wonder what the dragon sees?

If you are a writer...

2011-05-22T00:54:00.000-07:00

This poet girl akka b.

Will be a featured poet during

THE OJAI WRITER'S CONFERENCE

June 4th!

There's a great schedule lined up for the day - workshops for all things concerning WRITING.

Opportunities to mingle with wordy peers, learn from wordy mentors, laugh at each others ridiculousness and love our mistakes.

Go directly to The akka b. Page

Then peruse the other goodies!

JOIN US.

POETRY dots

2011-05-12T00:15:00.000-07:00

"POETRY is more than pretty words placed to impress; true poetry connects the dots between SOUL and WORLD. It brightens, deepens, and cracks open the windows of the intellect so we may experience the full range of our HEART." ~ akka b.

NOT A....

2011-05-11T23:51:00.000-07:00

THIS IS NOT A POEM...

...THIS IS A PICTURE OF A POEM

SELF PEACE

2011-05-11T23:38:00.000-07:00

"PEACE is every man and woman's responsibility. It does not begin or end with a few good or bad seeds, but is sustained by every individual's commitment to SELF examination, SELF maintenance, and SELF love. When we can accept and love ourselves all the way ~ there is PEACE. A steady mind and steady heart, create a steady environment. I am at work on this in myself, everyday." ~akka b.

Once Upon a Time There Was a Rock Tumbler... PART II

2011-04-20T17:34:00.000-07:00

(Continued from PART I)

...it was love at first sight.

"OH JUST THINK OF ALL THE THINGS I CAN DO WITH A ROCK TUMBLER!"

Proclaimed The Poet.

I can talk to it.

Take it for walks.

We can hang out together.

Eat together.

Sleep together?

I'll even take it out for a beer...

Photos: Jonas Llewellyn MacPhail & Lisa Casoni

THE POET of course, being delusional, did not know that a Rock Tumbler was not something, someONE typically has a relationship with. She went on courting it anyway, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Until one day, something out of the ordinary, absolutely did.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Falling Down

2011-03-21T23:49:00.000-07:00

You can't get back up, till you let yourself fall down...

Let's not sit still anymore.

Let's NOT go back to sleep.

TREES ARE FALLING

listen

Today I ate waterfalls

Three large fallen Oaks

And seven spoonfuls of sunlight,

between handfuls of MARCHing rain

yes

I'm a Poem Hunter and Poem Prey

I do use Poems to Pray

I was looking for place. Place within poem. Watching for home.

(That's the theme here isn't it?

Watching for home?)

yes, but

WHY DO TREES FALL?

And when they fall... let out - Big Thunder?

Is THIS rebellion?

Are the trees talking?

Showing us talking?

Giving their voice, so we might find our own?

"Use your voice," said the Tree

(As it left its song all-over, the yard)

"Let my bark light your fire, human friend."

TREES ARE FALLING

listen

"If I fall for YOU... you MUST grow for me."

In the deep dark night of this rebellion.

WAKE UP POEM CATCHER

POEM PRAY

Don't go back to sleep

DolphinFly

2011-03-11T21:38:00.000-08:00

I had a dream...

Dolphin showed me how to fly

deep down in water, then up to open sky.

Fast and fearless. Again and again.

But fireflies... are at their best in dark,

when they can be the light.

Don't expect to recognize firefly by day,

soaked in ocean.

Dolphins are for water-flying,

Fireflies are for forest night.

Once Upon a Time, There was a Rock Tumbler... PART I

2011-02-14T13:00:00.000-08:00

ONCE UPON A TIME

There was a Rock Tumbler

It was a very nice Rock Tumbler

And it lived alone

In a very nice rock field.

In that same rock field

There was also a Poet

She was a very nice Poet

ONCE UPON A TIME

THE POET

Had been dreaming of Rock Tumblers

All her life

So as you might imagine

When she finally bumped into

THE ROCK TUMBLER

Who also lived in the rock field

Well,

It was love at first sight...

TO BE CONTINUED...

PART II

oooh.... Look Who Got Mentioned in the YOGASTROLOGY BLOG

2011-02-11T12:42:00.000-08:00

*

Being a human being is funny. 

There are so many ways to go about it... 

TO READ A LOVELY MENTION OF

YOURS TRULY

Visit:

THE YOGASTROLOGY BLOG

  Diane Booth Gilliam, 

The Yogastrology© founder, 

asked me to contribute to her 

workbook series a while back. 

And as Yogi/Astrologers tend to do... 

she's payin' it forward.

 Read a tiny bit about how akka b. came to be.

Then peruse her website/s

 Where YOGA & ASTROLOGY are

all-in-one. 

Ya know, like a burrito ; )

Lighting Fires ~ Bringing Poet-Talk to Oak Grove School

2011-01-27T13:50:00.000-08:00

There is a school

on a hill

where

trees converge

coyotes tuck away

large birds come to PrAy...

Oak Grove School // Photo by Lisa Casoni

I was invited to share some poems and words on creativity with the high school students at

OAK GROVE SCHOOL

In Ojai, California

Such an honor

Below - a montage of the morning.

OFF THE PAGE

2011-01-25T00:41:00.000-08:00


Photo Credit: Jonas MacPhail

poem fell off page again

pfft...

(typical poem) 

it means...

well,

what it means is...

I'm on call 

day

&

night

could

be

PAGED

any time-

whatsoever

must always

arrive

prepared

for

anything;

which basically means

prepared for nothing

and

everything.

of

course.

typically

FIND MORE OF THIS PHOTO SERIES BY CLICKING HERE:

Recognition

2011-01-07T12:05:00.000-08:00

In the land of recognition (now) 

How can I say? 

Watching faces

Remembering times

When first we met 

And I don't mean recently

Connecting dots

and they are everywhere

Like stars

Moons 

Bright waves of remembering

It's good to know you

again

I'm in love with 'DANG IT' I love it sooo much!

2011-01-06T01:55:00.000-08:00

dang it.

I wasn't gonna do it.

But I did it

I love it SOOO much.

DANG

and

How good are those two words together?

The IT on its own is just an IT

but add DANG and...

The DANG on its own is just a DANG

but add IT and...

DANG IT

Now doesn't that feel good to say?

What I mean is, "Dang it, doesn't that feel good to say?"

But reverse and WOW also, sooo good.

IT DANG!

aha ha ha ha ha...

"IT DANG, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE!"

"HOT DANG IT, IT'S WARM OVER IN HERE!"

dang it, i love to dang it.

What is a DANG anyway?

it.

Spirits ARE Talkin'

2010-12-28T16:02:00.000-08:00

Click on pic to GROW

The quietness of sunlight pressing me down

into the driveway where I lay,

Under the driveway tree

Hungry hawk sends echo across skyline

A kind of wind comes...

Like smoke signals

Listening

Every piece of Earth is talking now

Retelling about The Way

There is no considerable danger in ending

And no considerable ending, and no considerable beginning

As we've been told so many times before

There is also no hawk, and yet there is hawk

No skyline, yet there is skyline

No sunlight, but sunlight yes

No wind

Yes wind

Listening and no listening

There is also no driveway, and yet there is driveway

Where I am laying, but not laying

Pressed by sun

Wind

Turned into smoke

And driveway tree

A storm coming

But no storm

No coming

No going

and also, and therefore

Quiet.

Spirits are talkin'

Magic is as Magic Does ~*~

2010-12-28T00:06:00.000-08:00

Magic is as magic does

Today a crystal heart hanging from my window spoke, as I sat silently - motionlessly - reviewing words. I don't know what the message was, but all of the sudden, the crystal heart tapped itself against the window and set itself to spinning. Spinning light all around my room in rainbow fragments. I watched mesmerized by unexplainable occurrence.

Surely, certain people would try to explain it.

But certainly, I could care less, why...

I just think it's beautiful is all.

WASHING MACHINE

2010-12-27T00:11:00.000-08:00

In your absence 

My mind becomes washing machine

Pieces of me sloshing

Turny 

Twisty

Rushing

Gushing

Hushing

Pieces I would like tucked neatly inside my drawer

Wet

Mingled

Stretched

Soaked

Undone 

The purpose of washing

Wetting

Cleansing

Releasing

Form

Thank God for metaphors, truly

And eventual drying, resorting, folding, putting

Resting

Wrestling

Washing

Resting

Watching

Washing

Resting

More

Let the Elves in...

2010-12-24T08:38:00.000-08:00

Let the Elves in...

The Writing Tree (holiday rendition)

2010-12-19T23:39:00.000-08:00

I wrote and read this poem especially for the

Women's Business Social that convened at The Ojai Valley Inn

last Thursday. Of course I wrote it only a couple hours before the event (when will I ever learn?) and from the crotch of a tree.

The Writing Tree

I found this poem in a tree today,

Sitting under cloudy sky.

The tree blanketed with lichen,

Watched me with its nose... and one large eye.

"Put me in the holiday mood" I said, "jingle all the way..."

"Sorry, there is no holiday mood here."

And I looked at him, but he looked away.

"But the ladies at the Women's Social

are going to be hoping for a lot of FUN!

I need your help, I'm running out of time...

I must hurry and get this done!"

SILENCE - was the tree's response, as clouds pushed around cold air.

SILENCE - was the poet's response, with hunched shoulders and solemn glare.

"So you write poems in trees do you?" - Said a human who happened to walk by.

"NO I DON'T" I said, ------ with a long foreboding sigh!

...

Now, I don't want to waste your time, with mistletoe and all that fluff.

I could say it without feeling, but I might leave you, feeling... like it was less than enough.

I guess it doesn't matter so much, about tinsel and large glass bells, it doesn't matter about cider, and the way the holiday smells...

What does matter is... how we get to bring notebooks up a tree, watch the storm clouds gather, and let our real hearts be.

Hold each other's...

Ideas

Enthusiasm

AND

WONDER

And not worry about gift-wrap sales,

Or making a cocktail-party blunder.

Now I will leave you with a whisper,

of what the tree finally passed to me:

Don't expect the tree to 'give you' just because you come sit near, but know it will always listen, to what you want it to hear. And maybe if you're quiet, for long enough you'll see - what the tree is really giving, is the experience of being free!

May your evenings be filled with...

Listenings,

Glistenings,

Wonderings,

Tourchings,

Loveings,

Lettings,

Forgivings,

Acceptings,

And

Becomings

YOUR HOLI - DAY

is every place you are,

everything you see

and the mountains of love - you let yourself be!

The Day After (FIRE)

2010-12-05T00:53:00.000-08:00

The day after a poetry event is like the day after an earthquake. I offer you a glimpse inside myself as I share my response to a friends email about the day after THE LOVE FIRE POETRY EVENT...

FRIEND: Sooooo how was it For YOU?????

akka b: I'm so exhausted today, it's hard for me to answer that question. But I'll try.

It was powerful.

I felt LOVE energy big time strong... A fever the day before was purifying and forced me to "let go" delegate and relax. It was really wonderful having the fire pit in the middle - and we all threw our poems in the fire after we read them, which was neat.

The night was a little heavy on content and structure, as I was swinging to the other extreme from the previous event, where I felt a lack of structure. The very cold night challenged some people towards the end. BUT despite the "adjustments" I want to make, there were still people that approached me that were extremely moved, had serendipitous stories to tell about how they ended up there or how the poetry has helped them, or how the video helped a friend etc. So... sigh... smile. It's for those stories I continue, no matter what.

How do I really feel?

Like a new mother who gives all her milk to her baby, all her time to her husband, lends her ear to a neighbor and a bed to a friend. Meanwhile her clothes are falling off because she's become too skinny, her car barely starts because it's out of gas, her teeth are full of cavities and her hair is going to dreads.

But she'll get up and do it again tomorrow, because for the first time in her life, her dreams are no longer dreams... but living, breathing, feeding, giving, growing manifestations of her love and perseverance. All the prayers she left in temples, all the contracts she made with god...

There is no way back

To what she left behind

To get to what is NOW

But being where she is

Living inside the flame

She'll return to,

From where she came

Thank you for asking (FRIEND) ... it's been an important contemplation. I love you.

THE LOVE FIRE

2010-12-04T18:47:00.000-08:00

THE LOVE FIRE

Under my bones tonight, firelight, the Love Affair.

Take my paper skin, iron fist, wanting eyes.

Leave no mess of me.

If you take me, leave no mess of me.

No poems of me, no question. me.

I give myself to the always fire.

The always light that leaves no trace.

Make me ashes, leave no trace.

Less than dust.

Make anything that keeps me from my Love Fire...

Less than dust.

The Great Liberation IS

2010-11-13T23:46:00.000-08:00

Not walking naked through sleepy rivers

Not pressing wishes unto the moon

Not bedding down with mind altering substance

The Great Liberation is

Not smashing dishes in search of a point

Not traveling the world without destination

Not defying rules just to fit - differently

The Great Liberation IS

The way of forgiveness

The way of looking into the eyes of our own fury and recognizing light

Not in the form of raging fire

But - IN THE FORM OF LIGHT

Hand of akka b. / Photo Credit: Asha Tyska Mclaughlin

THE GREAT LIBERATION IS

Revisiting the ugly past and saying THANK YOU

NOT because it's no longer the present, but

THANK YOU for being the mountain that made me

THANK YOU for being the mirror of my internal conflict

THANK YOU for revealing the depths of my madness, self-composure, resilience

THANK YOU for being the only thing that stands between me and

THE GREAT LIBERATION IS

NOT waiting for anyone else to say they're sorry,
but to say, you're sorry

NOT waiting for anyone else to say you're right, but to say, you're right

NOT dismissing the gift that is right before you, it is for you

THE GREAT LIBERATION IS

NOT walking naked through sleepy rivers

THE GREAT LIBERATION IS

Walking Naked

*I had the pleasure of reading this piece tonight at Danielle Lopez's art opening @ Ojai Coffee Roasting Co. A powerful poem written in less than 30 minutes and also recorded last week for my upcoming poetry cd.

Chunks are Falling

2010-11-06T23:30:00.000-07:00

Click to see full pic

Chunks are falling off again

And it doesn't feel sublime

Artistic maybe?

Chunks are falling artfully again

WOW - amazing patterns!

Kaleidoscope of patterns

Chunky

Artful

Patterns

Falling

I wonder who I AM under all of this?

and

How much longer please?

The Kissing Waves

2010-11-06T15:05:00.000-07:00

I'm worlds away from you

Worlds from the heaven we once tasted on our boat of open seas

The kissing waves rocked all sense from me

And I became glued to the freedom bestowed in this convergence

I'm stomping mad about that

Being glued to something so timeless

Uncontainable

This world away from you, right here

I will never know how to love less than this

*

DEAD/ALIVE

2010-11-02T17:25:00.000-07:00

Honoring all things dead, but not dead

I shared this poem a couple days ago,

(the same day I wrote the poem)

at a Psychic Faire on HALLOWEEN.

The photos are from the reading,

the sound clip was recorded last night

(All SOUL'S DAY)

and I present it today on...

THE DAY OF THE DEAD - El Dia de los Muertos

Click HERE.
(Headphones recommended)

Photos by: Raksha Boiteau

PROGRESS: What Happens When You Do It Anyway!

2010-10-25T23:36:00.000-07:00

Life has been leaping off the pages the past couple months. In the summer I began writing about what it's like to leave a perfectly great job to pursue a life of poetry. Little did I know, poetry would begin pursuing me! Tracking this progress came to a halt, having gotten caught up, living progress.

So it goes...

Life is progress. Even if you don't know what you are doing, how you are going to go about doing it, or what it looks like when you get there. When you happen upon that thing that you know you must do and follow it, somehow life folds in to help. I won't rummage backwards through details, I'm absolutely exhausted and details at this late hour are getting tossed faster than flying stardust. Delusional is the best word. Yes.

Before I fall entirely off the internet for the night, I want to share a couple pictures of progress. Last Friday I hosted a Poetry Event at the famous indoor/outdoor used bookstore in Ojai, California. Bart's Books is an incredible venue for such gatherings. The plein-air atmosphere and a community of warm hearts lit the evening on fire! The question was posed, "So, what do YOU DO when it rains?" to which Ojai poets, and poets who sent in poems from around the world replied. Such a fun night with willing everyday-people sharing their hearts and perspective. A JOY!

For more great pics CLICK HERE:

To read a GREAT REVIEW on the event CLICK HERE:

If you're in the neighborhood... stop on by!

2010-10-05T23:10:00.000-07:00

CLICK ON IMAGE TO READ

I Want To Be Olive Oil

2010-09-22T13:20:00.000-07:00

To pour over things and rub into places, fuse flavors, stimulate appetites, move without hesitation, make skin glow...

I want to sit under an olive tree

I want to be Olive's Tree

I want to be Olive

Fragrant Olive

Delectable Olive

Oil of Olive

and

The Flow

How To Make A Poem (meets) Love Angeles

2010-09-15T19:05:00.000-07:00

GUESS WHAT!!!

MY VIDEO:

HOW TO MAKE A POEM

Has been featured at the popular Los Angeles based blog:

LOVE ANGELES

Check out the video then stay and browse around this uplifting news and entertainment source!

Forrest Kolb, the Love Angeles founder and editor, has been up to great things!

THE PURPOSE OF DOING SOMETHING >>>>> cha cha cha!

2010-09-02T14:00:00.000-07:00

DOING SOMETHING - cha cha cha!

Is one way to not do nothing. 

Trading your nothing for a something, is the same as trading something for a nothing, unless your nothing is the something that you are trading nothing for.  

Oh shoot. What have I done?

I'm not sure what doing something means actually. Except that sometimes when I've been doing one thing one way for a very long while, I know that the only way to change the way I've been doing that one thing... (that has begun to feel like nothing) is by doing something that I have never done before. OR by doing something that I used to do a lot of - that I forgot about - that I really used to like. OR by doing something very, very different from the way I would normally do that something.

Which to be quite frank, often requires doing nothing. Even though nothing often requires some sort of something. But I've probably already said that.

Bottom line is this. 

DO SOMETHING - cha cha cha!

DO NOTHING - cha cha cha! 

THE PURPOSE OF DOING NOTHING

2010-09-02T00:09:00.000-07:00

THERE'S MORE TO IT THAN MEETS THE EYE... 

Staring at walls

Walking up a small or large hill

Watching for rattlesnakes

Making a smoothie

Sitting there

Standing there

Laying around

Taking a nap

Taking one more nap for good measure

Um, doing computer stuff

Talking on the phone a lot

Sitting around with people

Making the bed

Unmaking the bed

Let's see...

Lying in the bed that is made or unmade

Learning rap moves

Making up nonexistent words

Drawing

Reading

Falling asleep while reading

Napping again (because of the falling asleep while reading situation)

Trying

Wondering

Wondering about trying

Un-trying  

Purposeful 

Nothing.

And so on and so forth... 

GOD GAVE ME GOGGLES

2010-08-27T22:44:00.000-07:00

Okay, whatever, so I borrowed the goggles - used them, stuck them on my fat little face.

Do you know that for years I have been swimming without goggles?

Do you know that for years I haven't really been swimming, because I can't swim without goggles?

I didn't even realize I hadn't been swimming, until yesterday, when I started swimming.

And oh my was I swimming... I was swimming and swimming and swimming.

I was the Forrest Gump of swimming!

Here it is:

Contact lenses are really great for seeing, but they really suck for swimming. No lenses, means not knowing where I'm swimming, and not knowing where I'm swimming... is really not worth the swimming. On the other hand, wearing contact lenses means going in, without going under - which is basically equivalent to balancing a chocolate bar on my nose in ninety degree weather and never ever, ever getting to take one bite!

For years I have been either seeing OR swimming, but not seeing AND swimming!

But, I'm not quite sure what the metaphor is.

Imagine that?

LIFE EXPERIMENTS: Space Replacement Therapy

2010-08-24T20:08:00.000-07:00

This is part of the LIFE EXPERIMENTS SERIES - a tribute to leaving my job to live my dream. To follow the journey, click HERE. Or on the LIFE EXPERIMENTS TAG at the bottom of this post. All related posts can be found under this category.

Okay, where was I?

Or am I?

The journey-less-journey, but journey nonetheless.

A funny thing happens when you make SPACE in your life... Leaving my job - opened up a giant chunk of it, followed by the compulsion to clear all physical obstructions as well. Everything that looked like clutter, or dust, or order that had no order, had to go. I burned some things and trashed some things, gave stuff away...

But the "funny" part about open SPACE (and I'm not sure if this has to do with gravity or magnetics or what) is the refilling (of that SPACE) that arrives like a hungry dog after a free meal. I had to double check that I didn't leave a sign posted to my door - FREE EMPTY SPACE AVAILABLE - PLEASE FILL IN WITH ANYTHING.

Quite frankly, I was bombarded with offers of every shape and size. Social invitations and opportunities-knocking (invitations)... Do you want to go for a walk, or a drink, or be my friend, or try this job, or help me with this thing, or listen to my life story, or, or, or...?

YES!

Of course I said, yes.

My life, a blank canvas,

An open slate,

A sky-is-the-limit...

I am a whirling dervish, an aloha-surprise - of course I can do it ALL!

Naturally, I DID think I could do it all.

Well, I couldn't. WHAT WAS I THINKING?? I've never done that many things simultaneously in my whole life! Plus, would any of them get me any closer to my goal? Oh yeah...what was my goal?

The original idea was to quit my job to finish the book of poetry I've been dreaming on and toying with for way-too-long. Beefing out the website and blog, doing live poetry and a little freelance copywriting. So...

NO! I had to say no to the other things. Despite their seductive call and my easy-go-lucky attitude. I had to say NO.

By the way, it totally stressed me out to say NO - in case any of you who I said NO to happen to be reading this right now. But then to tell the ABSOLUTE TRUTH, it did get easier every time, and a little bit more fun too.

What I'm really trying to say is this:

THERE IS ALWAYS A CHOICE.

It's not that I don't get to say YES to some things, but I do get to choose which ones are right and at the right time. I did not walk away from a workplace that gave me at least a small sense of security, only to refill my life with incidental and temporary senses of security.

Great opportunities are always available to me. (This has become my mantra). Saying NO now, does not mean that the great thing, or something like it, or something better, will never come back again. OF COURSE IT WILL.

OF COURSE IT WILL - has also become my new mantra.

To be continued...

what i really love...

2010-08-07T23:31:00.000-07:00

What I really love is morning fire.

Stacked pillows and shades gently drawn.

The candle lit is not the fire of which I speak.

But, it is reassuring.

In this foyer of intentional resolve, I find a way to sit. Rest.

Before the day-fire begins.

I begin.

I get to.

Intentional loving is what I really love.

The candle lit and burning sage and a shawl draped ever so, simply.

What I really love, is how meant to be...

This love is meant to be.

Nothing further.

STICKY-NOTES CAN SUCK IT!!!

2010-08-07T21:10:00.000-07:00

(My love affair was short lived.)

It's been decided.

I am NOT sticky-notes. My life is NOT a small square piece of obnoxious colored paper with a slightly sticky backside visually hoarding lines of pristine beauty and telling me what to-do every time I sit down to undress my blazing SOUL FIRE. I have woken up everyday to these damn sticky-notes shouting about how much I have not yet accomplished and that I am probably some sort of wayfaring vagabond idiot for not having more self-imposed structure. Crap. It's all crap. I no longer believe in sticky-notes.

TO THE FIRE PIT WITH STICKY-NOTES!

SToMP! STOmP! StUmP!

BURN.

LIFE EXPERIMENTS SERIES: The Urge to Purge

2010-08-05T21:44:00.000-07:00

[This post is part of the LIFE EXPERIMENTS SERIES - a tribute to leaving my job, to live my dream. To follow the journey click HERE, or on the LIFE EXPERIMENTS tag at the bottom of this post... all related postings can be found under this category.]

It began with a purge, a need to rid my life of all excesses.

After giving notice at work, I would have guessed my energy might naturally turn toward scratching up alternate sources of income. No. All I could think about was how many ways to clear my life of all things that no longer made sense. Most immediately, STUFF. Physical, actual, hard with edges, lumpy, bumpy, cut & dry, crumple it up and throw it out - STUFF. By no means have I finished this compulsive sorting...I get distracted by nearly everything and likewise, nothing. There is an interesting momentum that takes grip when you say no to less than you were meant to be and yes to what you know you came here to be.

There's also a fear that comes knocking. Oh SHIT! What the hell have I done?! What was I thinking? I'll probably die.

Well, exactly. I will absolutely die. Someday. And therefore the fear gets overwritten with the ire to dissolve anything or anyone attempting to interfere with the uncanny force field I've resolved to water and prune everyday. Every minute really.

Interference is very sneaky... but more on that next time.

Stay tuned.

One Perfect Day in August

2010-08-04T21:31:00.000-07:00

One perfect day in August

One complete and perfect day

I took my salad to a park

To sit alone beneath a tree

But not alone beneath a tree

One perfect day in August

On a blanket in the grass

The wind stopped by

And the clouds brushed the sky

And the bees galloped in

And a man flew a kite

As I sat beneath a tree

Eating salad on my knee

On a perfect day in August

One complete and perfect day

I put my back to the ground

And my eyes began to close

Touching one finger to, my nose

Just to see

How a finger on my nose might feel to me

One perfect day in August

LIFE EXPERIMENTS SERIES: Let Me Back Up

2010-08-03T14:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Reader, 

Recently I quit my perfectly wonderful, comfortable job of 6 years in order to live fully my poetic dreams. What can I say? I felt like gambling. To be honest, it was more than gambling... it was a necessary response to the obnoxious clickety-clack in every cell stored in my being - a call to make more room, grow, challenge my fear of "going without," challenge my vulnerability. 

Vulnerability. Many might think I'm crazy being a single income, single mom type. But my suspicions suggest it might be a favorable time for crazy. The world seems to be in a very dynamic all-at-once, now or never, pow-pow, jump or die or perhaps jump and die (but at least you died trying) kind of way. Sounds dramatic I know, but I can be a little dramatic, so my actions or perceptions tend to match. 

Vulnerability. What I really wanted to say in the previous paragraph is that this experiment has so far, been full of surprises. Sweet insightful surprises, some very subtle, others quite pronounced. It's only been two weeks since I left the workplace, but already I've experienced a full range of emotions and responses to my new world - a world I am creating everyday. 

In the coming days, perhaps weeks... I will share glimpses of this joyful ride through writings, poetry and images on this blog and my Facebook page. To follow this thread (as I may bounce around some) click the LIFE EXPERIMENTS tag found at the bottom of this post or in the SORTING IT OUT section in the right hand column. 

Thank you for sharing this journey with me your presence is a great inspiration. 

Much LOVE, 

akka b.

LIFE EXPERIMENTS: CUT IT OUT

2010-08-03T00:48:00.000-07:00

First one must cut out everything to have everything

One must make space

Open closets

Strip old paint

Throw stupid shoes out the window

First one must cut out everything to have everything

First one must stop doing anything to be anything

First one must stop being anything to do anything

First one must cut out everything to have everything

One must burn degrees

Empty drawers

Mop the floors

Relieve the trunk

First one must cut out everything to have everything

One must forget one's name

One's talent

Forget one's dreams

The klutzy past

First one must forget everything to remember everything

In the absence of place there exists a space; an emptiness

And a choice

To change is to choose

To choose is to change

But, first

One must...

[This post is part of the LIFE EXPERIMENTS SERIES - a tribute to leaving my job to live my dream. To follow this journey click on the LIFE EXPERIMENTS tag at the bottom of this post... all related postings can be readily found there.]

Pins and Need

2010-07-31T23:54:00.000-07:00

pause

the pin drops

what life sounds like here

without those grainy fingers attached to those restless palms attached to those lanky arms attached to your brain

sweat pools on my forehead for loss of words; the way you strung them in the hallway; the way your smell lingers

not always a pin

sometimes a pair of scissors falling on cold tile, echoes my discomfort

or the magnetic strum you plucked from my private inside

(Inspired by the photography and blog works of Michael Mundy)

ADMISSION

2010-07-30T23:53:00.000-07:00

I am a poet.  

It's my job to admit things. 

It's my job to stare down every crag and snarl of self-deception/deprivation/deprecation/dedication/divination

It's my job to admit things. 

I am a poet; admission number one.

Yes, it took a little getting used to. 

Yes, I experienced heart palpitations/persuasions/penetrations/participations/provocations

Yes, of course I did/do. 

Of course I do. 

 I am a poet. What else am I supposed to say? 

I'm not a poet? 

July 18th 2010 - 4:05am

2010-07-18T04:05:00.000-07:00

Counting down till sunrise.

1.75 cups of coffee consumed between the hours of 5 and 10pm.

BAD.

and

Really, really GOOD!!

Candles were lit and I got-it-on with Sticky-Notes.

Sticky-Notes and stacks of forgotten paperwork and my copy- machine.

Scissors and tape and notebooks and oh yes... the file got used.

You heard that right... I used the file.

But don't worry, it was consensual.

And it made me hungry, but I didn't eat.

Food. That is.

Nope.

I didn't eat food and I'm cutting back on sleep and none of it's my fault.

It's the Sticky-Notes.

I blame the Sticky-Notes.

she had an independent NATURE

2010-07-04T20:29:00.000-07:00

PROGRESS

WORLD CUP

2010-06-26T23:14:00.000-07:00

Sometimes there is nothing to say.

When everything else falls away...

Street lamps dim,

Water turns to mud

Fog fails to lift

Wind refuses sleep

Earth let's go

When these things happen...

And we realize money is imaginary

And fancy hubcaps are unnecessary

And even makeup weighs us down

When there's nothing left to do but listen.

And hold tight to that which will never let us go

And not hold tight at all

But let ourselves be loved and let the love continue...

Refreshments Are Being Served Out Front

2010-06-24T19:30:00.000-07:00

On Set

2010-06-16T21:21:00.000-07:00

*

*

*

On set for my 

Upcoming VidPoem

It got WILD

But I managed to keep my cool

Photo by Heather Stobo

Can't wait to share it!

WE ARE ALL POETS

2010-06-06T22:49:00.000-07:00

If you can relate a little bit to the color of dirt at sunset

Or the taste of air under the dampened moon

If you can fall into a body of water and shed a tear -
For the endless work of waves

Or the tireless pursuit of wind

Then you are a poet.

If you pause when sun slips behind a winter cloud

Or laugh at the rope, you swore was a snake

If your heart leaps and your stomach falls for any reason whatsoever

Or no reason

Then you are a poet.

If you have ever wondered how your skin came to be your skin

Or your brain - your mind, your eyes - your sight,
your wounds - your gift

Then you are a poet.

Better yet,

YOU - ARE A POEM.

(Photos by Raksha Boiteau)

n.o.s.t.a.l.g.i.a

2010-06-05T22:56:00.000-07:00

*

"We spoke some words, 

but they were not important. 

It was a sense of nostalgia 

that wove us to one another.

A timeless comfort. 

Like that 'just-right' pillow 

at the end of a long-ass day." 

- akka b.

Drunk Love Heart

DRUNK LOVE HEART - THE CD!

IT WILL BREAK YOUR HEART - OPEN!

TEDx Realized

I AM Gratitude

HoneyMOONshadoW

Watching What I Think

Evidence of Their Influence; Evidently

A Poem of Dancing Burden

Sink now into your heart Dear One. You've been riding the shoulders of your own calm These strange and heavy days; climb down.

Release yourself of the burden that is you. Allow thyself - dissolve,

Into the calm and strangest place; The most wondrous of every place, by every magnitude. You've been dancing around the calm, These strange and heavy days;

Now is time for letting... The Calm Dance You.

Sweet Big Tiger

Fierce Little Rabbit

Dear Sweet & Grungy Poets

DEAR SWEET & GRUNGY POETS; dream thinkers, heart thumpers, whisper makers, wonder starters, morning sippers, midnight blinkers... thank you. And once again, THANK YOU. ✤

Lay an Egg

baby Acorns

He SAID

A Pomme for Steve Jobs...

Mystery Trusters

Meet Your Tree

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth.” ~Hermann Hesse

River Runs Through Me

Death From Itself

I MARRY MYSELF

SHE CALLED ME PRACTICAL!!! SHE CALLED ME PRACTICAL!! PLEASE GIVE HER MONEY!!!

42 RULES OF ABSURDITY:

STARS

INDIAN DREAM KICKER

"Heart Roots": THE SPECIAL GIFT OF THE IRREGULAR ME.

Growing Confidence

Leap of sQuirrel

Keep it COOL!

To My Destiny I Bow

oh dear.

FIRE FOR A MOMENT

Twin Lemon and a Beeswax Ball

In the wake of moon

I Must Love You Blog

if you want to make poems... pray.

TRUST IN LIFE'S COMPASSION

eye see

If you are a writer...

POETRY dots

NOT A....

SELF PEACE

Once Upon a Time There Was a Rock Tumbler... PART II

Falling Down

DolphinFly

Once Upon a Time, There was a Rock Tumbler... PART I

oooh.... Look Who Got Mentioned in the YOGASTROLOGY BLOG

Lighting Fires ~ Bringing Poet-Talk to Oak Grove School

OFF THE PAGE

Recognition

I'm in love with 'DANG IT' I love it sooo much!

Spirits ARE Talkin'

Magic is as Magic Does ~*~

WASHING MACHINE

Let the Elves in...

The Writing Tree (holiday rendition)

The Day After (FIRE)

THE LOVE FIRE

The Great Liberation IS

Chunks are Falling

The Kissing Waves

DEAD/ALIVE

PROGRESS: What Happens When You Do It Anyway!

© Nathalie Raijmakers Photography 2010

If you're in the neighborhood... stop on by!

I Want To Be Olive Oil

How To Make A Poem (meets) Love Angeles

THE PURPOSE OF DOING SOMETHING >>>>> cha cha cha!

THE PURPOSE OF DOING NOTHING

GOD GAVE ME GOGGLES

LIFE EXPERIMENTS: Space Replacement Therapy

what i really love...

STICKY-NOTES CAN SUCK IT!!!

LIFE EXPERIMENTS SERIES: The Urge to Purge

Sink now into your heart Dear One.
You've been riding the shoulders of your own calm
These strange and heavy days; climb down.

Release yourself of the burden that is you.
Allow thyself - dissolve,

Into the calm and strangest place;
The most wondrous of every place, by every magnitude.
You've been dancing around the calm,
These strange and heavy days;

Now is time for letting...

The Calm Dance You.