Category: Uncategorized

wood rocking chairs-
full.
porch swing-
full.
railings-
full.
full of love.
full of laughter.
full of stories.
full of hometown gossip.
full of hugs & kisses.
full of Hello’s & Goodbye’s.
full of popsicles & sweet tea.
full of family.

If you see something wrong that is your responsibility,
Whether it was your problem shall not matter.

Always care for others before yourself;
This goes for your siblings and your parents.

You will hear every “I’m sorry” in the book;
Never a “thank you for everything.”

If your parent or sibling cries you must be strong,
Hold them while you hold back your tears.

Your feelings do not matter here.

Be responsible you are not allowed to mess around;
That takes away from your time to be helpful.

Every action must have a goal,
A goal that must be for the greater good of everyone.

You are the example,
You must always act as such.

Success.
That is your only option.

But do not succeed too much,
That will take away from helping them.

Do not make your parents look bad,
They are the best parents.

The best parents are the ones who raise the independent child;
The parents who do absolutely nothing.

All your work is not to the credit of yourself,
It is to the credit of everyone else.

Welcome to the Republic of Gilead;
where we’ve trained the women to be demure; the commander’s wives
holding down the wrists of the handmaids; welcome to the new America.

Autonomy no longer matters;
why should it? When men can make all the decisions for women,
when men get to choose who gets pregnant, when their own wives hold the handmaids down.
Furious eyes glaring at their husband and handmaid.

Welcome to the Republic of Gilead

Where we take the tears of the over dramatic women,
Weaving them into the Handmaids guidebook,
Using the blood of those who disobey as burgundy ink:
1. One should listen
2. One should not speak up
3. One should not get a say in their body
The cardinal rules that define the new republic; Make America Great Again.

The constitution is paused; rape no longer exists; it’s ingrained in the ritual of procreation;
autonomy no longer matters;
choices no longer needed; especially for the
women in the scarlet gowns.

Welcome to the New Republic of Gilead; coming to you in the near future (it has already started!)…stay tuned.

Can you hear me?
Can you feel me?
Can you see me?

Why can’t you hear the songbirds singing?
Why can’t you hear the children dreaming?
Why can’t you hear the wind through the trees?
Why can’t you hear the honeybees?

Why can’t you feel the snow or the rain?
Why can’t you feel the damp morning dew?
Why can’t you feel the hot summer days?
Why can’t you feel the wind on your face?

Why can’t you see the stars out at night?
Why can’t you see the sun shining bright?
Why can you see the birds take flight?
Why can’t you see the moon pull the tide?

There is a story, a story untold.
One that was written a long time ago.
It goes back to the being of time.
This isn’t fiction or even a lie.

I will talk of a time when time stood still.
If think about it, is time even real?
This isn’t a bio, memoir, or script.
It is what, it is, are you confused yet?

This is an original, not fact of fiction.
It will be based on your depiction.
It will stir emotions and blow your mind?
Oh, if life could be so sublime!

I ask you a question, please think it through.
Help me to understand your point of view.
You’re given a planet, to call your home.
You’re given the choice of rights, and wrongs.

I have loved you since the beginning of time.
Providing you substance and peace of mind.
A planet created with loving grace.
In return, all I asked was your loving embrace.

To give birth to a planet, born of free will.
I thought you would treasure, respect and honor.
If this is how you treat your mother,
It doesn’t surprise me how you treat each other!

I have watched you start wars.
Fighting for land, that’s not even yours.
Always wanting more.
All in the name of greed and power.

The rich are getting richer.
The poor are getting poorer.
My children are starving.
Yet you still want more.

I was created for the human race.
All my children that I helped raise.
Only to see my worst fears come true.
Not only from them, but even you.

You have polluted my lungs, and
Gutted my heart.
When all I did was love you.
Right from the start.

I am your MOTHER.
Or did you forget.
You have replaced love with disrespect.
Yet I still love you with no regret.

I don’t think you understand.
How deeply hurt I am.
Disappointed yes indeed.
Enough is enough, don’t you agree?

All you have done is taken from me.
Using force and violence.
Creating weapons of mass destruction.
Oh, how stupid can you be.

If you do that, you will kill.
Not just me, but everybody.
I am telling you now as a warning.
This behavior is disheartening.

My rivers and lakes had clear running water.
Skies the bluest of blues.
Trees are the greenest of greens.
Mountains kissing the sky.

Beautiful clouds passing by.
Creatures of every kind.
Flowers to tantalize your mind.
Colors that are so divine.

Do you think there is another planet as beautiful as mine?
I am the only planet in your solar system.
With the means to care for your future generations.
I am Mother Earth, and I have taken care of every person in existence.

The universe birth me with loving intention.
To create a civilization and work towards ascension.
I agreed on one condition.
To afford you the right, to make your own decisions.

I wish you could see through my eyes.
The potential that I see.
You can do such wonderful things.
Oh the potential that you bring.

Your planet as you know it, is about to change.
I have sent out a call to my marker, the creator of all things.
You cannot even fathom
What does this all mean.

Some didn’t believe we would make it this far.
They thought we wouldn’t succeed.
In creating a world based off peace.
And inner knowing.

Change your ways and stay the course.
The world that you knew is no more.
I have a secret that must be told.
I can’t hold back my excitement no more.

Your government as you know it, will soon tumble and fall.
The injustice that once was in place, will be replaced.
With justice and grace
For all.

The separation and division will be a thing of the past.
For those who abuse their power, knew it would not last.
How dare you take another being for profit and your personal gain.
Slavery, hate crimes, human trafficking, and horror.

What gave you the right to take what’s not yours.
The innocence that you broke within them.
Not only broke them, but it also broke me.
I could not see this happen no more.
This behavior is even worse than your wars!

That was when I knew I needed help.
I could not just do it by myself.
Help has come from faraway places.
Being of light who answered the call.

They walk among you as we speak.
Awakening those who are asleep.
To remind them of their plan and purpose
Gifted to say the least.

I call them the chosen, they are here for just one thing.
To be light in the darkness, out of every million there are just three.
I hide them right under your noses, gifted are the chosen.
Guided by an internal flame, bright as bright can be.

These are my healers you see.
Empaths, Shamans, and Seers
I sent out a call for divine intervention.
The awakening happened in divine intersections.

They bore other planets in faraway places.
To hold a light, like no other
They didn’t know what their purpose was yet.
When they were born, they were made to forget.

That was part of the deal.
To ignite your planet, to change your direction.
This isn’t an easy task you see.
The illusion is real when it comes to greed.

Wake up my dear children.
It is now time; you must change your frame of mind.
And now that the planets have aligned.
The author of this poem

Speaks from her heart
A human walking among you.
Guided by her heart.
Consciousness right from the start.

Some of you who are part of a collective.
Had a vision, felt the spark.
Ready to embark on what needs to be done.
To assist in any way.

Manifestation into fruition
The changes that are occurring.
Not looking for glory or fame
I thank you; I know you all by name.

What it means to be human, compassionate and kind
They embody the meaning of healing and growth.
They come back lifetime after lifetime.
Without hesitation.

You are the ones who will help make a difference.
You are helping me with this transition.
Teaching and showing
Your gifts on display

At first you were scared to be who are.
Strange and different were your scars.
Old souls, this was your mission.
Did the dove come to you in a vision?

If you saw the feathers of white.
You knew what this meant.
The Lily of the Valley
The Rose at night

For you all to see and awaken
To embrace your beauty within
Healing the pain that was inside you.
Is where it all begins.

When you heal you,
You heal me,
And united we will be.
For all humanity.

I hope you’re as excited as me.
Dream big I must say!
Don’t delay!
For your dreams are your reality.

Create a world full of wonder.
Peace and harmony.
Splendor and beauty, as far as your eyes can see.
Oh, what a world it will be.

The end
Or
Is it?
The choice is yours.

Written by: S. Merle
Author: Gaia (Channeled Message)

Goodness knows, a seedling always tried to lay deeper in the mountains,
Their DNA forged so they would thrive to show gratitude,
I paused,
The blond-colored earlywood formed in August.
Twice the number of my own family
Weathered
Changing cycles
A fraction
Plenty for the
Neighboring to see
A cold summer persisted
Suffocating competition with wind disruptions
Far eclipsing
What my family had lived through
They were my ancestors to my ancestors.

back
from the dead
The Painted Ladies
tremble
in the heather
the change has come
as ephemeral Large Blues
emerge
from their buried
chamber

a wooden sail-ship floats / anchored by the shore of a verdant cove
a descendant of the forest / where it was born from human hands
heaving a firm set of planks / polished to gleam reflections of blue
above and below the wide spotted sky / alive with pearls of moisture
over the great green / studded canvas of light
by the falling sun that hangs / instantly sitting behind shadows
over the same range of hills / glowing
radiant with a supernatural emerald sheen
and from the lowlands / shrunken groves of early summer
whispers the lost Anatolian tiger
from footsteps that wander / from ship to shore and back
gathering at dusk to breathe / drink and eat
horizon peaked with bald stone-crested hills
raised up from the coastline / raw stone
crumbling shades surfacing / plates of the planet
all earth growing tangled / prehistoric trunks up
ancient, medieval, modern / Aegean eyes
who lived and died / for a sight of the inlet
where rocks sharpen / spiked urchins give way
to paths of leaves / turquoise rippled water darkens
a liquid siege, mirror-like as the face of vanity, Narcissus in the flesh
smooth enough to welcome the bow of the wooden child of the forest
as makers, gods and humans / delight over the earth
we glide between sea and air / we are fugitives of the world
passing through the scope of history: a picture cut exactly to frame
our shape is a sail, the hull of a ship / rocking in a cove silent but for wind
almost out of earshot of the faint seagull cries / the draining motors
passersby laugh drunkenly onboard through into the listening silence

…native tribes had named the river long before Hudson’s arrival….
Mahicantuck… “river that flows two ways.” –New York State Department of
Environmental Conservation

I wish I could keep the arithmetic of loss to myself.
Somewhere below Independence Avenue in the Bronx
The Hudson mumbles into its own mouth
A passage of its two-faced history
And the sky reflects the water’s rumors in no particular order,
Cloudy syllables wheeling in an orrery
Of displaced peoples and disappearing frogs.
Remember when our masked breath flickered in the candles of evening.
The 7 p.m. huzzahs contained a hospital, critical inquiry, useless anodyne,
Simple equations left unsolved in impossible proofs.
I never sought a single paradise and now look.
As in primitive paintings, my mouth may one day open
To an asterisk of lost joys, my tongue over the lip of departure
From New York’s second-highest hill,
Droplets raining both up and down like helpless furors
Into the hum of home’s river flowing both ways at once.

1

Laconic clouds stalled
all August long.

Still optimistic,
on her knees in the soil,
she dismisses a wariness
among the weeds.

Windless, soundless sparrows
hide in drooping pear boughs,
sensing…

Her sweat
leaches into her work.

2

A woman walking brown woods
breaks the backs of maple twigs:

puffs of dust
feather her bare ankles —

tawny tufts
of a molting owl.

Her fingers stroke
an oak leaf — parchment

where this season wrote
its too-early conclusion. So

she reads the trail she hikes,
and brook and pond

gape empty-eyed when she scans
the unwell land.

3

In the sere pasture,
Monarch eggs fry on milkweed.
Bees faint on bolting mint.
Root fires smolder.

With the absence of waters

and their ancient airs—
the silence of sediment:

tracks zig-zag in riverbeds
stamped by Sauroposeidon,
Wind lifts silt, erases…

4

Predicted rains come
to nothing. Patchy drizzle
sizzles on crisp grass.

Closing open hands, people
pack into sparse shade
while the sun drums

on and on in the chest
of the sky

Surrounded by bone, surrounded by cells,
surrounded by blood, the pulsing of the heart,
the beat of the body convulsing.
It pumps its rhythmic pattern
a cycle forever recycling, rendering
the brain’s valleys and chasms,
electrifying energy—
of an unseen power.