Tag Archives: Goddess and Home

The flourishing membrane

 

Thalia
Thalia (/θəˈlə/; Ancient Greek: Θάλεια, Θαλία; 
"the joyous, the flourishing"

Breaking through 
Breaking through the membrane
Of turning 60
Letting go of
Youth, maidenhood and giving birth
Entering the world
Of crones and seniors with purple-grey hair.

Wise witches who stand
By old dark shedding trees
they sweep the cobwebs away
My repellent membrane.

Holding me back
Calls of youth, music, and romance
Death must be a friend
Calm and gentle friends
It’s my heart I worry about!

Will my tenacity be strong enough
To make It through the membrane
Will I be whisked up
By my elder ancestors?

My hands that look like grandmother’s
My need for love, friendship and companionship
Will I take my magic with me
The golden thread that brings meaning to old age?

Mystery, adventure, humor and longing
Will these qualities still inspire me
As my muses tease
Will my muses be waiting for me 
On the other side as I wrestle 
With this dark and flourishing membrane?

A punkytale

A punkytale as oral tradition as bards of old

Rockin’ in my rockin’ chair
Rockin’ in my rockin’ dreams
We all are elder punks now
The first of the punk rockers
A youthful explosion…

001

March 28, 2018

Last night’s dream

The dream was long but what I remember is we had a big back yard. In the back yard were big beautiful old trees. So big that artists would come to visit so they could sit under the trees. They’d sit under the shade of the old trees and make art. They enjoyed the big trees. Two people I knew came to visit us. Two old friends I knew in my rebellious youth when I had a punk fanzine. Band members I championed as we grew from youth to adulthood. First was Mike Palm. He was sleeping under one of the trees. I saw him there. Next son said that another one came to the door. He went back to the big trees. He told son he knew me. Son let him in and he went to the trees. He had his painting art supplies and a sleeping bad rolled up behind him. I went back and saw that it was Mike Ness . He smiled warmly at me. I felt all those friendship, close, intimate feelings come back to my heart. The feelings of loyalty and belonging to something bigger than ourselves.  He was fine. So, I left him alone under one of the old trees. In the house I made him a sandwich. We always made sandwiches for our art guests.

Dreams like this hurt me. I still somehow feel connected to these punk charmers of my youth. They made a big impression on me. I still love them both so much. Though our lives are not intermingled as they once were. They are still beholding to me. They hold value in myself, my psyche. It is nice when they come to visit, even if only in my dreams.

I wonder if they ever find my face smiling up at them in their elder punk dreams. I hope so… somehow there is still a heartfelt remembrance and shared values from our youthful rebellious days. Long gone by days…that we all share together.


Two old couches…

Life is about change. Old things die away, new things break into the world. I just wanted to hold on to this memory of two family couches that we got as hand me downs from Marge and Fred. Thank you, we love you and you are both still in our memories.

Neighbors’ blooms under California rain 2018

It was about 11 years ago when Marge passed away, it was on the day of the Mardi Gras. Her things ended up being sold and given away. We were given one of her many couches. A rustic beige couch with embroidery running all over it and white lines moving over it. I sat on it a few times at her home in Tarzana California. She lived in the hills next to Edgar Rice Burroughs’s Gazebo where the character Tarzan was created. There was a time when the hills of the San Fernando Valley were once sparsely populated. One might reflect upon nature and come up with all kind of stories to tell.

The couch was originally bought for a trailer. Marge was then married to Fred Ahern. He was an American filmmaker and worked with Alfred Hitchcock and Quinn Martin.  Fred and Marge originally purchased two couches for a trailer in the desert. Bullhead city Arizona. Marge did not like living there so they moved it back to the home in the Tarzana hills. They were both my husband’s grandparents. Marge was his maternal grandmother. She married Fred after my husband was born. He remembers when they purchased the two couches.

Fred was a good man and always treated my husband as his own grandson. Today we are letting go of the hand me down couches. The couches supported our two sons and us for about 11 years. Fun years. Colorful years with a room full of young boys, gamers, and sleepovers. The couch has been a good best friend. I say couch but there are two. A long couch and a love seat couch.

When we first put the couches in our home they smelled dusty. Now they are covered with hippy colored blankets, my mom’s knit and crocheted blankets and a hand full of cats, books, and laptops. Right now, youngest son is asleep upon the love seat. I think he is feeling a need to be close to it now. It will be gone soon.  He does not usually sleep on it like this.

Today is the day we will put the couches outside for bulky item pick up. I never meet Fred but somehow, he has been close to us the last few years by way of a couch he purchased. I think my husband feels a closeness to the couches. It is not until this morning that I realized this. The sadness and grief of loss is always a sober wake-up call… yes always. Two couches are a connection to my husband’s past. It holds memories and moments before I entered his world.

We purchased two new couches last week. Today is delivery day.  Marge and Fred’s couches are going away forever. The couches will be rained upon today.

We named our first son partly after Fred. When the hospital nurse handed me a document to sign for his birth certificate, I surprised my husband by sneaking in the Fred in Johnfred. I was completely in a ‘after giving birth’ trance I guess. I am glad I did it!

Football kitty is not letting go of her couch as a little Bodhisattva might naturally do!?

I am the Siddhartha



https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederick_Ahern

Ides Of March

Image found a long time ago..

We ran over the hill

in the rain

green grass suddenly

tripping our climb.

Laughing as we were

rolling over each other

happy to be.

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

 

Sedna’s Signature

 

Sedna’s Signature Great Ocean Mother,
I call upon you to grace my shores.
I make myself as still as sand,
who knows the patience of millennia,
having been ground down to my essential parts.
I wait my turn at the edge of known things
that you might soak me with your rising swell.
I wish for nothing but to be dislodged by your power
perhaps even carried into your depths for the chance
at a glimpse of your underlife.
May I be taken into your possession,
even for a moment, to know the absence of my gravity
and participation in your rhythms and contractions.
May my body be for what it was intended:
an expression of your grace.
And what small ways I make with this poetry —
what songs and friendships I form — what migrations
and ripples I disturb in the world —
may they have something of your signature on them.
May the you that has touched me go on multiplying
in your phenomenal mathematics until we are all suffused
with awe at your vastness within us.

~Turner, Toko-pa. Belonging: Remembering Ourselves home (Kindle Locations 1498-1505). Her Own Room Press. Kindle Edition


Astrology Astronomy

“There is…a curious synchronicity between the time when the planet is discovered and the emergence in society of values and experiences which the planet represents symbolically. It’s as though the planet breaks upon consciousness in both a literal and symbolic way. I can’t really answer you as to why Uranus is called Uranus and Neptune, Neptune. I can only say that in some mysterious fashion they get the names right.”

From 1865 through till 1966 Sedna travelled through Aries. This hundred-year period saw the emancipation of women around the world, beginning with the forming of the suffragist movement and ending with the bra burning women’s libbers of the sixties. This seems an appropriate illustration of the collective influence that Sedna has. (Remember as a goddess in the myth, she cared for her people as a collective,)

In 1966 Sedna gradually made her way into Taurus, where she remains today. So, what can Sedna in Taurus hold for the collective influence of humanity? Taurus governs things that we value, to my thinking it is likely that our values will change and become increasingly orientated towards spiritual considerations during the next hundred years.

http://www.goddessgift.com/goddess-myths/inuit-goddess-Sedna.htm

 

https://cosmicintelligenceagency.com/5dastrology-6/

 

http://goodvibeastrology.com/sedna/


A Gift from Saturn and a Poem for Him

Winged centaur
Invisible sounding hooves
Upon the backyard cement.

Lifted me upon his back
We flew through
The rain, clouds, and satellites
Rounding the earth.

Straight and fast towards
Saturn’s castle
He is to give me a gift.

I’ve waited upon the words
Of Buffalo yesterday and today
“Today Saturn will give
You a gift… today today!”

I waited and wondered
Tonight, as I watch the hearth fire
I heard the call towards Saturn
As before …

I rode over frozen land
Blue ice and white paths
Over all we flew 
centaur’s wings outstretched
Gracefully I slip off the centaur.

I walked towards the big door
Dark but when opened
Filled with light and beings
Those who lived there
Those who were visiting like me.

An earthling's visits are often short
Saturn, I found
Up the golden spiral staircase
Waiting with a smile
And comfortable charm.

Saturn gave me a gift
A green box
Asking me
Not to open it now.

Wait until I am home
And place it over the fire
On your hearth,
The gift will reveal
Itself to you.

My journey home was fast
I made a space upon my hearth
Above the fire
Then turning to look out the window.

The wet outdoors
From a cold rain
Found me hoping
For a real cymene.

Of the ascending centaur
Glissading and glistening
Away from my soul through the rain
Under a full peeking moon.

Saturn told me
To write a poem about the green box
A gift from him
And so, I have.


 

Third Winter Wonderland Poem


An event to read and talk
I got lost 
I woke up encrusted with "how could Is?"

Lost I found myself fishing my dream
finishing my dream in waking time
awake with a cup of coffee 
kitty on my lap.

The large ten inch long lizard
3 inch width creature
still reminds me that
it might still be at my front door.

It's encrusted skin of scales
as it pushed against the rosemary bush
and the lights in the night sky
after the crescent moon set.

Winter is cold
family wants to sleep
more food and coffee
studies, words and protesting.


 

 

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

knowing life

Youngest son is turning 18 this year. I turn my back pages and remember. Sitting below my parent’s house. On a cement ditch. My friends and I were surrounded by trees and weeds and the smoke from the same. We were turning 18. It seemed so old. So very very ancient. Our youth was dim memories.  Now I look at youngest son and think how young his age is. So very very young. A flip-flop in perspective. Funny how a song grasps a feeling over time and generations. It’s been with me most of my life. This song still holds the magic of knowing life.



 

Vesta Image

I have enrolled a new image for The Seminary of Praying Mantis. She is Vesta.

“In her role as sister. Vesta represents the principle of focus and commitment. She functions as autonomous self-identity transforming creative energies into purifying and integrating personal circuitry.” ~ Demetra George & Douglas Bloch

Lucy sings

Marjorie Main playing the character Lucy in the 1939 film The Women

The Women is a film that I adore every time I watch it. It does not have one man in the film. These women spend their time talking about men, competing for men, and divorcing and remarrying men. All the female characters in this film are delightful. The women are in love and out of love, nasty and catty.  Their current 1939 fashion is wonderful. A very clever film for women from the 1930s. A different culture for sure and some undercurrents that are questionable by today’s standards, but overall a delight time to jump in and have some real fun with these gals.

My favorite character from this film is Lucy. She runs a ranch in Reno for women who are in the process of divorcing their husbands. What brought out this little review is a song that Lucy sings in the film and it goes like this…

Lucy: [singing] If the ocean was whiskey, and I was a duck, I’d dive to the bottom, and never come up. Oh baby, oh baby, I’ve told you before, the more I drink whiskey, I love you the more! Oh baby, oh baby…

This morning while cooking up the chili, peppers and more this song came blaring out of my mouth. I usually call my bursts of activity around the house as taking out little cat Z from under my hat. (Dr. Seuss) Today I was singing Lucy’s song.

“Oh baby, oh baby…”

Lucy sings it with a crescendo and high pitch. My guys and cats were twitching their ears and wondering what the hell got into mama this morning.

“Oh baby, oh baby, I’ve told you before, the more I drink whiskey, I love you the more! Oh baby, oh baby…”

If you have viewed the film, you know what I am talking about!!!