(Hour 13) 10.30-11.30am. PROMPT, Dictionary. Pick an unusual word. Define it without using it.
gyromancy
there are many things i do not understand
many foolish ways supposedly to determine your future
you would think brisk walking
would not help you find your future
i do not understand how it helps
but nonetheless briskly walk
round & round, circle upon circle
until giddy fuzzy dizzy delirium
causes you to tumble groundwards
where you fall apparently determines your fate.
(have i said i do not understand
these many foolish future finding ways?)
perhaps your toes pointing north indicates
a long journey up a steep mountainside
i cannot tell you how or indeed whether
falling on your back, side, or front
markedly differentiates the divination
or how which why whether or whence
if your legs are crossed or arms flung wide
it likewise affects the proposed prognostication
needless to say there are
many foolish ways supposedly to determine your future
& there are many many things i do not understand
Earth
She created you, birthed you from her own flesh and bone Every atom, every twist of DNA Was all by Her design. You were once the spring leaf Of an old tree long gone. You were the mud on the riverbank. You were the star that exploded And made our solar system. You are a part of your home A part of this Earth Just as a snail Is a part of her shell. Next time it is dark And you can't find your roots Remember this: The land knows you even when you are lost.
Lost America (hour 14)
America is lost and
no longer knows herself,
but truly did she ever?
Land of the white and
home of the male.
My skin is a traitor,
my body a prisoner.
When we we have been dismantled
and there is nothing left worth saving,
will we admit we were wrong then?
I know no home.
I know no land.
I am an agent of those
fighting to be free.
She knows
“The land knows you, even when you are lost“
And the water knows too
Find yourself in the flow
Mother Earth
Prompt 17, Hour 14
For this hour I want you to use the quote bellow by Robin Wall-Kimmerer from her book Braiding Sweetgrass as the jumping off point.
“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”
The Land knows you even if you are lost … the Land, Our Mother Earth
Respect and Love her, she is no different than your own Mother who gave you Birth
The Land knows you even if you are lost … in the whirlwind of Life
Do not forget her, she will help you in the long strife
She will Feed, Bathe, Clothe, Protect you … if you give her Care and Nourishment
But if you Ravage, Destroy, Abuse her … you will face Mother Nature’s Wrath – Global Warming, Tsunamis, Quakes, Droughts – a Mother’s Punishment
The land knows you, even when you are lost
I walk through day to day, no site of you.
I dream & swim in thoughts, waves of you.
I sit, ’round a fire rise, thoughts turns smoke.
A breeze hugs, kisses away some flame.
You were never here, heard too much, I run to be lost but am always found.
Trees hold high the songs, carried by the air to ear.
Wash away the night, every morning. Every night, wash away the day.
Do it all again, some call it camping.
Others call it home.
Homecoming
The land you know, even when you are lost can soothe a broken spirit with a familiar place to call home.
The road no longer feels long, it becomes a guide without a map to follow the twists and turns around each corner.
Knowing its peaks and valleys all too well. It makes a journey to the past feel like riding on a carousel.
The faces begin to mimic an old school teacher, a tired cashier, a man dedicated to his hustle, a mother smiling at the simple things in life.
The air so muggy and hot in the summer yet crisp and breezy in the winter.
Fall doesn’t exist because we know when the leaves begin to lift.
The seasons will shift from one extreme to the next.
Encouraging us all to take time to rest.
The water a mixture of grays and blues. A place many go to seek for solitude.
The clouds are mysterious with strokes of color displayed upon its never-ending canvas.
The scent of sweet potato pie and fried turkey or those pink azaleas flowers laying along the road all beautiful, soft, and sweet.
The energy of home when your bags can drop from your hands and lay peacefully at your feet.
The Night We Listened (2019 Poem 12)
The night we listened
To the oars rowing
Horn so near
It seemed
We could see our hearts
We heard the ocean
Full of warmth
We were perishing
Yet unheeding
In too great a hurry
I have since wondered
If we listen what
Might come to us
Out of the deep
Erasure of “Out of the Fog” by C.K. Ober
Inhale
I like how it feels to inhale chemicals
I wait for the wave to wash over me
Relax my being,
my mind shedding the suit of armor it has been wearing all day
and fade into the relaxing calm abyss
half-mast eyes, but a full smile
i am finally at peace