#mamadini

Come into my being and find my swelling part the gate of my sphere and seed the soil of possibilities manifest with me that which you desire Set the table a Rod a Flame a Cup Smoke my peaks with a puff

I’ve never been lost. I wonder what that feels like... it seems desperate, constrained, trained. I have wandered out of bounds,                       stepped over the line,             pushed past the

I think to unbreak what is broken. You a heaping pile of shards. All those sharp words pointing my way; you needle-prick of a man. A million pieces everywhere. I’ll try to put them back together, yet I

a string to connect to bind you to me here to there now to then in to out climb mount for-Ever rock to rock tied and true come now be on the line your end to mine hang in trust you can hold I won’t let

The waters are rough mountainous wave-crests pushing against the shore exhuming all this muck sallow-coloured Dark skies rolling in cloud-fists pounding down hard unrelenting Cold and sleety mirage of

Listen above and below beyond the noise Let the inner world unfold before your liminal eyes Take in your own essence transmute it in out in Lay by me as a blade of tall wild grass sway in the wind be hued

You devoured me in that sacred place with the circular stone altar, silver and gold, and you; somehow berries are always sweetest when found in the wild and eaten on the move, purple-black, ruby-red,

I want to lie down in the field as your May Queen to give of my waters to sustain you to protect you from drought and the harshness of the beating sun My flower is in-bloom and you are the honeybee My

Laughing black wolf heckling from the distance Wytch-hound a shrieking bawl midnight numen be you a warning a summoning hunting the last of the golden spark Savage soul come forth to devour the day’s last

Shee (Sídhe) If you find yourself awake in the night when the world is quiet When ghosts wander halls and knolls the sounds of other worlds can be heard if you listen in silence with your night eyes ancestral

Every monring I pull three cards and roll three bone dice -- today three aces surfaced, a rare event in all the years I've been pulling these morning cards for myself. Huzzah! Steepshot | IPFS | Google

Steepshot | IPFS | Google Play

More totally late night, fried-out time-arts makin'... Oh how I love black tea in the night and time on my hands. My YT channel:

Testing this new app out -- this is Luci, she is 4 months hold. Created with Steepshot View in the web app

This is a piece I did for @robyneggs #poetrydice Challenge 3000 (Week 23) -- Memories. Link to the challenge post below: Cinder Sound I remember the cinder sounds the way a stem of a stalk of a man in

I too am filled with love a river flows, yes but, the ocean is my heart you come to me Holy Holy Holy the words your flaming heart and scorched cinder path I see you but not you your river and I am changed

O’ January, what a cold wind you blow to the bone, deathly, the sacrifices her her Her, always the ladies you scoop with frost & fang she did good, ol’ Henri-Brains (Her) miss Black-Paw grandmother

When the nights went long -- spoken word & video

Lupa, shake your fur and stretch for the night is here let the hubris shed from you like peeling skin make way the fang and paw forget the words of men dew scent drop drop drop un-tame and be wild again

What a treat to look out my window and see this camellia blooming today. I planted this and a small leaf variety three years ago and have just been in waiting for the time when I can start to harvest (each