tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192486682012-02-16T06:46:24.045-05:00A Sacred place of endless nothing matters in between the reflection heremamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comBlogger321100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1145389409038073662008-01-12T16:11:00.000-05:002009-01-12T16:11:41.420-05:00

all he knew isshe had to be kissedall the wordsno matter missedeyes wide and stars glidethe scent of mumsOh exquisite creatureyou have been missedmore than a momentthose days with no raintime as a lawwe had been through this painhearts racing and rawknow this will wanenever the sameturning towards homean unfamiliar wayof being aloneno longer wanting to stayascendingunendingi will see you in

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1161044202813587632006-10-16T20:02:00.000-04:002006-10-16T20:16:42.943-04:00

I am surrounded by images of a woman I will knowwhen I am further down the road.I can smell her hair and hear her laugh as she looks beyond me towards her passion, one of many.In one at four, I see her grace, in another at seven, her wit's served with a keen eye. In innocence,there are serious expressions, the observor left to ponder her thoughts.The girl is becoming her own womanas the woman

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1156869112149874342006-08-29T09:47:00.000-04:002006-08-30T17:39:39.940-04:00

Thick wetted low tone moan below bloated bellies and empty valleys of fearrhythmic pulsing waves buildto crack a hinged headmelting in the moment the thrill is left heaped in ShadowWill the joy fade before you rise from your kneesbegging all eyes 'see' theserving grasping gasping fasting tales of fleeting powerunsustained in septagonal matrices those wicked webs trapping thought timeSeeping into

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1156706147022011062006-08-27T08:44:00.000-04:002006-08-27T15:15:47.110-04:00

Woke up in Time to know the pastas frayed loose threads mingled with the groundsome burnwornothers cut clean, for NowWindthoughts drift from sisters to fatherswhat devides us at intersectionsdefines us in dreamsWe are entangled heredrifting over the same watersof Thought, grasping cloudsbegging energylike trackers stalking soulfood and heartstormswarnings and signs appear from the Centersome lost

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1156347044546134992006-08-23T10:03:00.000-04:002006-08-24T13:43:49.070-04:00

the view from here is Greenit is rarely quietthere is a rhythma cacophonic reminder of the power of natureleft to breathe and growwith little maintenanceand droves of intentfor a sound forest sanctuary where bones melt beneath centurian treesour history feeds her falling leaves

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1154369627144746872006-07-31T13:55:00.000-04:002006-07-31T14:13:47.183-04:00

there is a moist silence to this dayheavy heat creeps round the cornersthrough my windowclouded by yearsencrusted with webs of constant attendants to the business of lifeSpider sayscreate space for rebirth on thisimpregnated timewave of claritious purposein spite of webs and dust and smudged eyes against the glass painmake time capsules of the cavefor the timethe maze will openin a time that has

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1153419315205656672006-07-20T14:02:00.000-04:002006-07-20T14:15:15.233-04:00

they hang their heads out the car windowwinding up the springs roaddown the tunnel of greenour portal towards homeilluminated at midnightminds full of musichair whipped by airit is movingto hear their words of wonder"i can see the starsand the trees look so beautiful how they are lite uplike thati know we are moving but it doesnt feel like it really"a dimensionthe in betweenchaosand orderlight

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1151993823775742222006-07-04T02:04:00.000-04:002006-07-04T02:17:03.786-04:00

watchingwanting waitingfor another meto cross the linefind my mindtouch the centerturningtakingmakinglove out of nothingwe are not free to be alone

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1147109954651969532006-05-08T13:37:00.000-04:002006-05-08T13:39:14.670-04:00

Wed 5/10Blue Cats 10ishGeronimo recalls the Vatican.Spinning doughheated and vested tofeed your head.Instead, there were hot spinning clothesand no doze Folk poker poetry tones spilling into alleyswhere souls rising alone to meet the Matrix  wait before through the square they wander intothe indigo cat amidst the archaic sub cityand red fire dogged manifestationto gatherand remember the game with

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1147098977112905282006-05-08T10:24:00.000-04:002006-05-08T10:36:18.186-04:00

Emerging from elsewhere.Entertained and triedanother purpose without titleor famea new Game.You are allowed to be tiredsay it's enough.Do without doingwearing the same hatwith different eyes."What do you do?"It may be done,Let it go

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1143905436901489212006-04-01T07:34:00.000-05:002006-04-16T15:26:38.023-04:00

[[[[[=Shifting earth plates remind me of the delicate crust upon whichwe tread. The growing unrest and thinning veil between the perceived and what is true is creating a fertile space for the inevitable change in our collective consciousness. The children feel it. Parents, nurturing goals and dreams countless children have dreamt throughout history, may soon have opportunities to present a more

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1142089322637150692006-03-11T09:49:00.000-05:002006-03-20T18:48:28.283-05:00

how many Metro Pulse will it taketo pack up a Life?how much does all this meanafter all the Joys and strifefound an artist in the mirror She said, "Honey, you are no redneck wife!"how many Metro Pulse will it take to pack up this Lifehow many judges will it taketellin you what you should dohow much will it costin cold cash and fleshy dewyou know what you can take with youso you do what you gotta

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1141684968308828962006-03-06T17:23:00.000-05:002006-03-06T17:42:48.366-05:00

mourning morning graygives wayto sunlit paths of wealthknow by few who dare to stareinto the eyes of dragonsand walk on unscathed saved by the choice that's madeput down your weaponstake off the gloveslet's sit near a fireand speak in Loveevenings glowshows what you knowthe richness of Soul purposesurpasses the needs of thievesshapeshifters deceivetoo long told what to believeDreams unfulfilled

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1140854806556802762006-02-25T02:53:00.000-05:002006-03-05T03:26:36.276-05:00

Desire's mireinconsistently flowing towards the majesty of being repelledby firethe best a sage can do for youto say nogoyou are on your ownbut not alone"the humidity of attractioncreates an unbearable heatwhen love is not"elementally expressedwithout fear of truth and lossor accepting praisefor who you reallyareHow will it fit into the scheme of nativity not your ownas if parallelto something

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1140031627761598902006-02-15T14:23:00.000-05:002006-03-20T19:25:42.056-05:00

if fate is fate's i'm fated timewith arms out stretchedto meet what's devinecandle lightstarlite nightsbodies of watersilence's delightwelcome Musewhose message soothsremembering the Way live this woman's lifenothing to losewith fear's releasea Path I seek reeksthe scent of Hopein Spring rainsWill carry methrough fate's mistsand the Law of Timehere is all that I needwhat could be morea desire to

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1139928412763460462006-02-14T09:45:00.000-05:002006-02-14T10:26:20.813-05:00

-The Will's candy is poetry bellowing sacrificeDesire's word missed it.Make and have Lifebut bug that daughterNo prisoner down in Willeats fat cake-Celebrate morning sonAlways linger like a woman's soft voice sailing perfumed oceansPerhaps go by the WoodWake him who asked,"Is it never in?"And must blush after Caramel melon cat's feline bath.-Spring's welcome here.

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1139848400352208382006-02-13T11:33:00.000-05:002006-02-13T11:33:21.963-05:00

DreamsA lost young petalWandering soulsI see the dream you seekFollow me please,If you dareThe dream is coming for you and meI return by your sidewith a heart in my handIt is like a bright fire dancing........2005, 11 years old( i found this under cave debris, written perhaps a year ago on an index card, proof she may hear me when i encourage her to write those deepfelt dreams)

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1139344996681570872006-02-11T11:07:00.000-05:002006-02-11T11:09:14.406-05:00

GrowlingGroaning StretchingRubbing teared eyesWinter's deepest daysSnowingQuietWarringforcesRumbleBelow and AboveBreatheIn OutTo: The EditorFrom: My CubFebruary 10,2006In My Eyes I am a twelve-year-old girl in the sixth grade. It is a great school, except for the fact that some kids that go there are sort of prejudice to my belief system. I wasn’t raised in a Christian home. I never

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1138889779840201122006-02-02T09:15:00.000-05:002006-02-02T09:16:20.240-05:00

Not a good nights rest. It was that one story. It has me, for the moment, deeply concerned for sister bears and human future. The sadness disturbs my soul. Our female cub is in her first year of estrus. I thought I knew how to prepare her for the hunt. The age old game has become primal, again. Women are beaching themselves, swimming into a sure death, over riding the instinct to survive to avoid

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1137964939308143122006-01-22T16:20:00.000-05:002006-01-22T16:22:19.373-05:00

A Spirit guide spoke to me of a 5 point buck in his territory that was infirmed. There was a tumor growing on it's chest.The dilema was to choose to cull/kill or let it be a buck and procreate. We understood the management of such things on our private lands as we see and feel the presence of these creatures. We cohabitate with these animals daily. The choice was not made at that time, only

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1137472822965644002006-01-17T18:46:00.000-05:002006-01-17T18:47:18.186-05:00

With the intent of a joyful hound, I curved up Brown Mountain and winded down towards the river, aglisten with city lights. An icon was here to bring the hedonistic message of the Soul to hungry hearts. Blowfly, one of the roots of funkraunchrap, graced our favorite old city cavern stage.He was keeping it real, lifting the veil, maintaining the groove at 70 plus years.I gave him and his handler a

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1137374517132730882006-01-15T20:20:00.000-05:002006-01-15T20:21:57.156-05:00

when you are playing with the wolves.In our separate realms, we all see the moon reflecting light onto our bodies and everything around you is impeccably bathed in a Lunar essence. It is a choice to know that Beauty, go outside,let go of past/future and simply Be. We are connected by thought, energy, our minds fix at that moment on the Moon and I Know you are with me.So we carry on with the rest

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1137264624744580942006-01-14T13:36:00.000-05:002006-01-14T13:50:24.773-05:00

It is cold with the winter winds that sweep off the icy waters and the snow that silences the world in deafening white.It is the first full moon after the solstice. The Full Wolf Moon. The Old Moon.Hungry dogs circle the camp in search of sustenance and cry out mournfully under the frozen sky. In the spring, you share your hunting grounds with these creatures. But now they are here, begging for

The Editornoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1136405689747358442006-01-06T13:38:00.000-05:002006-01-06T13:41:55.466-05:00

This is an image I found at the following website:Shamanic VisionsIt is from an prehistoric archaeological excavation site in Northern California- a bear cub and a womanchild buried together.Outstanding find, you dog. Thank you.Polar bears have been shipped to our local zoo this week.Will it, snow for them.

AnGreeWoofDawghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00521935599412875862noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1136164223475007552006-01-01T19:59:00.000-05:002006-01-01T20:10:23.486-05:00

thoughts on discernment."An elder Cherokee Native American was teaching his grandchildren about life. He said to them, “A fight is going on inside me. It is a terrible fight, and it is between two wolves. One wolf represents fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, pride, and superiority. The other wolf stands for joy, peace, love, hope

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1134923761263072422005-12-18T11:33:00.000-05:002005-12-18T11:36:01.273-05:00

DAMN THIRSTY FirstThe fish needs to say,"Something ain't right about this camel ride-And I'm Feeling so damnThirsty"

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1134663865809651572005-12-15T10:29:00.000-05:002005-12-15T11:24:27.296-05:00

brilliant glow at the edge of the tunnelbeckons me"time to play" said the Mind's eye.

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1134180769967927132005-12-10T00:11:00.000-05:002005-12-09T21:12:49.976-05:00

Playwright Takes a Prize and a Jab at U.S. By SARAH LYALLPublished: December 8, 2005LONDON, Dec. 7 - The playwright Harold Pinter turned his Nobel Prize acceptance speech on Wednesday into a furious howl of outrage against American foreign policy, saying that the United States had not only lied to justify waging war against Iraq but had also "supported and in many cases engendered every

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1134188520081008382005-12-09T21:13:00.000-05:002005-12-09T23:22:00.103-05:00

Response to inquiry regarding feminity:Human females are the essence of life. We are a force of nature bybeing,no matter X/Y.The energy is always there, each choice you makecomes from The Will, not your will as man or woman.  In times when this flowed freely, women were revered without question.In the book WOMAN AS HEALER ,Jeanne Achterberg refers to the Sumeriancivilization, seated in what is

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1133795935048615762005-12-05T13:17:00.000-05:002005-12-05T10:18:55.070-05:00

plodding thru the cave,considering connections,which to nurture or let go, the necessity of clarity seems essential more now than everclear intention is an ancient endeavor what clarifies your intent?I am Here because I have seen some of the beartraps,heard the Hunter's dogs before they reach the river.The wounds I lick are from moments of Illusion, forgetting the Purpose,intending to suffer,

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1133443822697771582005-12-01T11:25:00.000-05:002005-12-01T08:30:22.703-05:00

10:01 this morning our moon is 'new', againYou can be too!oracles recommend putting feelings on the line, even the unpleasant onesseems one may unify the diversity of this duality of experience with matters of the Heartforgivelovereleasing the desire to be right and have life be a certain wayFear nothing to survive these dark timesThought is energy Hope will change the course of the Human Game

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248668.post-1132767113738266592005-11-23T15:30:00.000-05:002005-11-23T12:31:53.746-05:00

welcome to the cavefeels good in here.winter's sent this bear deeper into the wombSoCast King is currently telling me stories as I huddle near these shitty speakers here in the east caveroomOutside, 'joe citizen' takes a few day off to give Thanks...Cast is 79 years youngi'd like to believe he's giving thanks every dayi think I'll stay here,keep the fire hot and make him a cakeTonight at The

mamathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14507414227705413388noreply@blogger.com2