Category Archives: Holly Duval Cornell’s Poems & Pose

Poems a different way to communicate to the world. The place of “Who fucking cares” to “Hey I hear what you are saying!”
“…to set forth or offer for attention or consideration…let me pose a question…”

Autumn Magic poem 7~ All wild things that know us.

Thalia


A song from Coyote
A day of thanksgiving
A history of the land
A call from the wild…

As I meditate upon
The four directions
Of the medicine wheel

My comrades and allies,
Coyote surprised me with a story
One that brought happy tears
To my eyes…

Coyote said,
“I have known you longer
Before you came to this
Native song of life…

I knew you as a child
I smelled you in the weeds
As you fell and rolled
Down tall green grass
as a laughing youth…

I knew your favorite trees
you expertly climbed
I rested near the rocky hills
where you dreamed
Reflecting thin white crystals…

I knew the places where you rode
on a white horse
The rugged trails you blazed
through the large sage mountains
That roll with scented fennel
to the sound of the sea…

At night you heard us singing
I called to you
I scared you
I woke you up
with a screaming ascending yelp
Remember?
Sharing the mysteries of life…

One-night years ago
I walked right next
to the car door of
The man you would marry
I sized him up…
He remembers!

Now the story is clear
I have known you
longer than you
have known of me…

I also sang this story
to the visiting raccoons
remembering you now
as a wild friend
I told them our story
The nature of a life long song…”

All wild things that know us
When we walk in their fields
Or on their hills!

Thanks Coyote…


penny candies

I sometimes miss the wildness of the street. Every street corner there were many people hanging out. Most were friendly and handing out flowers. Most eventually grew up and went on with there lives. 


1968–69: Manson Family crimes Main article: Manson Family

In the late 1960s, Manson attracted a quasi-communal cult based in California that was later dubbed the “Manson Family”. The group gained national notoriety after the murder of actress Sharon Tate plus four others in her home on August 9, 1969,[15] and LaBianca murders the next day. The Tate–LaBianca Murders were executed by Tex Watson and three other members of the Family, acting under the specific instructions of Manson.[16][17] Family members were also responsible for a number of other assaults, thefts, crimes, and the attempted assassination of United States President Gerald Ford in Sacramento.[18] 1971–present: third imprisonment


rowing up in the San Fernando Valley during the 1960s was wild. All the corner streets were filled with hitchhiking youths. Carrying incense and their innocence. Topanga Canyon was a way to the beach. They moved towards the Pacific Coast Highway.

As a kid I would walk down to Gary’s Market on the corner of Dumetz and Topanga Canyon. My friends and I bought penny candies. We also got bakery goods. We would sit and eat. We sugar gazed at the craziness.

Now I often take a drive to Box Canyon. That place where the Manson Family once lived. I love writing about this place and that time. It seems to be a place that has not been touched by time. It still feels and smells like the late 60s and early 70s.

As kids we walked or rode our bikes there. Not as many cars made the ride or walk easy. There were trees to climb and plenty of friends. We felt safe. Gone for hours at a time! Funny my parents never seemed to worry about us.

It was not until after the Manson trial that I learned to fear the wild places of my youth. Yet smoking pot would always highlight this paranoia.

Charles Manson is dead or is dying. The creepy crawl is not over though. Today I will take a drive-up and down Box Canyon. With freedom there is always danger lurking about. Those corner streets filled with hippies were not so innocent as I thought they were. As I once was. Maybe darkness gazed at us, unaware to us, back then as we ate our penny candies.


 

 

Autumn Magic poem six


Think upon the seals’ barking
Only then will you see them
Sharing their magic…
The cool of the fog,
The foam from a wave
Coffee in a cup.

Old-school arcade
Ticket from a master psychic in a booth,
Walking, talking, and smiling…
Driving, feeling, all together
Tunnels and dark canyons.

The Mermaids are singing
The universe is glowing…
The marina is full
Halloween flags
And gibbous moon.



Autumn Magic poem five

A place in the house


Wind stopped
cave is dark
no movement
"Blake's" worm.

Dreams from last night
still light feelings
"If we keep the healing temple open, 
the people will come?"

A faint glimmer
candy corn desire
baked potatoes,
ham and tomatoes
salt and pepper
holy dill...

Magic inverted
deep turn
deep.

Dudea





Autumn Magic poem four

A prayer to the Elohim ...
help us in these
whirlwinds of water
and fires of destruction. 

too much steam...

How to prune the masses
A man who is a doodlebanger
Causing chaos, discord, and division.

Racist and hypocrite...

Send you peace of heart and mind....
hopefully good people will become
The powerful and not the defeated.

Magic come to console and make
A sword of justice of
nobility and goodwill.

Make us whole dear diplomatic Elohim.

 

 

Autumn Magic poem three


Autumn Magic poem three

Peek Peek.

Weep weep
Steamy and weak
Tired from lack of
Sleep sleep.

Saturn and Pluto
Are not being meek
One talks of noble
The other of
Love love.

Tensions increase
While I melt into
Chores, habits and good
Food food.

Letting go of expectations
Putting on a beautiful robe
Challenging a dark
Mood mood.

Magic is gravitating 
away from the past
Weep weep.

Sweep sweep.



Autumn Magic poem two



Autumn Magic poem two

How do you warm up to,
When all thoes
chemical reactions are
Hidden within...

Ice volcanoes and
Heart shaped
turbulence...

Emotions circulate smaller
than the moon
amplified, my dear
By a slow glance...

A slow dance
Of shadows will bring

your magic here.

 

 

 

Autumn Magic poem one

Urania

Autumn Magic poem one

Orpheus and his willow branch
Comes to mind this morning
The wind is blowing
Softly through the trees,
After a summer of hot
And silences,
Magic is here with me.

The Pleiades are Nyx’s
radiant and precious jewels
Last night they ascended
Toward the mid-heaven,
I mediated on diamonds of brilliance,
Magic is here with me.

My evening walk I witnessed
Due south a falling star
A moment of my life,
Awareness everywhere,
The cosmos continuously impregnates the earth
A flash of lightened love,
Magic is here with me!

 


Chapbooks of Poetry Booklet One $3.00

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First Chapbook of Poetry by Hudley Flipside, An Underground Bard; May 25, 2014 to Dec. 27, 2015 (1-24)


Poem Booklet Two $3.00

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Second Chapbook of Poetry by Hudley Flipside, An Underground Bard; Aug. 5, 2013 to May 5, 2014 (1-16)


 

Venus

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It seems contrary that Venus goes retrograde
As Spring vividly approaches!
The underworld is spilling upwards
I’ve noticed shadows and illness
Addiction, handicaps, and depression.
My heart is hurt and overwhelmed.

Man at the parking lot asking for money
Young man in a wheelchair
As parents push him through the supermarket
his eyes deep in a world of despair. 

I hold on to the pain as it washes over me with tears
Helpless tears of acknowledgment and power
As we walk through these dark times
To acknowledge it all with observing hearts
That hear and feel!

We help by our vibrations of
compassion, empathy and caring.
A silent prayer of hope,
So, the wounded can find a gentle joy
That pleasure brings
upon their vivid blood-red hearts.

She knows and she descends to us
the gift of her sweetness
for all times.

Walking with those that hold the lanterns
In the dark desending spiral into the underworld.
Light that eliminates the darkness
By acknowledgment, letting go.

As hearts grow in applied ways
This is our wisdom
A balm for our world…
Breast bending up
Chest falling down
And love will be found there too.
350px-aphrodite_anadyomene_from_pompeii_cropped

Venus on seashell, from the Casa di Venus, Pompeii. Before AD 79.

https://hudleyflipside.com/my-shop-get-my-weird-stuff-here/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/vivid/

Disk

The sun a disk of light. The flowers of purple nectar. My mind reflects. I am here. Yet, I am also with the women marching today…
Today was the Women’s March
Many cities and even in Washington DC
They are marching …

I felt connected to it all-
Yet, today we cleaned the gutters,
As husband was on the roof
With a long powerful hose,
I waited to clean
the dark
Mud, leaves and earthy smelling mire-slush.

As I waited,
I looked into the pool
Clean and blue
I saw the sun
A round perfect sun.
Bright and surrounded
By clouds
as many cauliflowers
And I thought…

“How lovely and bright the sun is, will it hurt my eyes to stare so long?”

download-1

I kept looking into the pool
Watching the sun.
A reflection in a clean pool.
A crow flew between us,
The whole reflection and my single view of the sun.

Droplets from the power hose
Rippled in the pool water
I looked away…
A hummingbird stopped in front of me,
Long enough to see a red beating breast.
Then was gone.

I gazed at the sun
The grey clouds
The ripples in the clean pool.

I also thought upon the women’s march…

Earlier, I was in front of my home
I studied the falling rosemary
Exploding with fresh, delicate purple flowers.
The rain also brought the many marching honey bees.

The sun a disk of light. The flowers of purple nectar. My mind reflects. I am here. Yet, I am also with the women marching today…
Today was the Women’s March
Many cities and even in Washington DC
They marched…

Jan./ 22/17 HF