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…”

Second Winter Wonderland Poem, Saturn and Chiron and Beyond


Astronomical, astrological, metaphysical ~ trinity.  Saturn: Time, Philyra: Form and Chiron: Solar egg sack.


It seems that people
are talking about…

Saturn on steroids
since ascending
to the high land of his home.
As Capricorn alerts the master !

Chiron to take  on the power
A healing of this shadowy world …
much more beyond our knowing.

I am not worried
because of my years of
friendship with Saturn and Chiron

Education and evaluation
I am stimulated with wonder and energy.

Keeping myself grounded
becoming impassioned  with life.

Hudley Stencil of Chiron 1994


First Winter Wonderland Poem, Neptune in Cancer!



I was thinking how Crones,
older women,
are not as influenced
by the cycles of the Moon!

I look back over
my feminine life
Seeing how unconsciously
I was driven.

Influenced by the phases
of the Moon,
my powerfully changing hormones!
Best described as chemical slavery.

A female body
a lunar ebb and flow alignment
with the continuity of our Moon!
I now see it also as a partial 
cultural brainwashing where; 
sex, power, and self-worth, 
is somehow all tied together!

Yes, Crones have desires 
needs of love and intimacy
I have come to experience
Crones are no longer ruled
by the cycles of the Moon
or our hormones!

There is the higher octave
of the Moon,
known as planet Neptune 
dancing with the astrological 
sign of Cancer
I join in this brightly aware dance!

The flutter of hormones 
emotional ways become silent
to the constant
moving river of insight!

For Crones
our external beauty wanes
our internal beauty waxes
as a luminous pearl
I embrace my pearl.

Consciously I slough off
many burdensome illusions
This is the correct time
An ongoing relationship
Between psyche and the cosmos.

Last Autumn Magic poem 8~ not doing either !

 

Our government is having 
a bad time relating,
The Republicans and Democrats 
are not even debating,
The rich get richer
the poor get poorer.

The sweet is sweeter
the sour is sourer.

If you want me to relate to you
try relating to me
I can let you go.

I can stop relating
I can stop relating.

  Contrary is the music
  the holiday singing
  relating and caring
  hoping and sharing!

Yet our government is 
not doing either
  no hoping and no sharing.



 

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

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.