MLP~Mystic Lake Poetry

[Du Lac]

working away

Clear water drips through a tainted veil
the parched mind open
waiting to catch a drop

falling

drought fed fields
soggy with celluar doubt
lost within time
forgotten generations cling
while the corn rots on the stalk

Green turns to brown
season spin
leaves twirl
through a young girls dreams

Womanhood rises far faster than asked
Thinking of now
we cry about tomorrow
calling all the while to the child within

Crone caws within the dreams
while the maiden waves a farewell


hell this is depressing lol....maybe that is why it sucks !

 

[Du Lac]

Morning Walks

I sat at the computer trying like hell to make sense out of a poem I wrote that has so much to say but not in the way that I wrote it. I sat and stared as the time clicked on the clock suddenly realizing that I had a set of eyes staring at me through my back. My dog Barney was patiently waiting for me to cut my obessive tie to the poem and take him on his walk. Feeling guilty I turned and kissed his head whispering to him "It's time."

Chaos came to the front with a flurry of noise and hyper activity spinning through the room. With grand excitement he barked and told me he had waited to long and now was the time for our daily jaunt. "I know I know hold on" I chanted over and over in reply to his demand as I ran around finding his leash, my sweatshirt and today I felt the need to listen to some healing lectures...All together now looking like hell I laughed as we tripped over the Woo my tiger cat who thinks he needs to walk with us. We stumble out the door and off we go...

It has been six weeks since we moved to Nevada. I love this land with all its mountains and valleys that call for one to join the day. Barney tugged at his leash pulling me towards his favorite marking spots making sure everyone knew that he was the 7 lb king of the road. I laugh as I realize that this is the first cold gray day that we have witnessed on our daily walks. Six weeks we have been blessed with sun and blue skies that could only bring delight to the most depressed person. I have been homesick for New England as of late. I want to hear the trees scream at me with orange, red, yellow and browns all the time reminding me that there was a time in history that I heard them without having to be screamed at.

Barney walks with a brisk beat to his stroll, stopping, smelling and finally looking back at me just to make sure I was doing well. I take the hint and skip like a child besides him, stopping when he halts and taking a deep breath with him. Fall comes rushing into my lungs filling me with all that I am missing. It is as if the plant life of the valley give off their own perfume that we only have to stop and take the time to enjoy. The dry, cold and peaceful fragrance dancing within my nostrils calling me home.

We live here in America running from home to job to shopping to home to eat to the gym to pick up the kids to etc....Always on the fast track we forget to take time and breath deep. I miss the feeling of being centered. Fall was the time of year that I buried deep within the colors of nature and myself learning how to be me and leave behind to woman who rushed around in the world. It took a small dog to remind me that I did not leave that centered woman on the hillside of her backyard in Massachusetts. She was here with him if only she listened to the simple calling of the trees that lined the Sierras that cradled her valley. The gray skies are thick and layered dusting the top of the mountains with a tinge of snow. Over my head I see a V of geese heading south to warm their hollow bones. Gratitude for the depth of gray and the crisp fragrance floats through my soul as I remember who and what I am.

Fall is harvest time. I look down at Barney as we trot along the road stopping smelling and marking our place in this world. Harvested within the gray of the morning I feel comforted in the fact that I can chose to have this day again whenever I want. I just have to listen to Barney and take a jaunt in his world....Listening to the calm voice whispering from the headphones, I realize that my poem was of the past running backwards without reason. If we live in the past we can not settle into the harvesting grays of today. Maybe I will rewrite that poem, maybe not... we will see what the morning brings....


Du Lac

 

[My Erotic Trail]

more... more... encore (~_~)
I think that's close to how I feel when I get out on the river!

I sat at the computer trying like hell to make sense out of a poem I wrote that has so much to say but not in the way that I wrote it. I sat and stared as the time clicked on the clock suddenly realizing that I had a set of eyes staring at me through my back. My dog Barney was patiently waiting for me to cut my obessive tie to the poem and take him on his walk. Feeling guilty I turned and kissed his head whispering to him "It's time."

Chaos came to the front with a flurry of noise and hyper activity spinning through the room. With grand excitement he barked and told me he had waited to long and now was the time for our daily jaunt. "I know I know hold on" I chanted over and over in reply to his demand as I ran around finding his leash, my sweatshirt and today I felt the need to listen to some healing lectures...All together now looking like hell I laughed as we tripped over the Woo my tiger cat who thinks he needs to walk with us. We stumble out the door and off we go...

It has been six weeks since we moved to Nevada. I love this land with all its mountains and valleys that call for one to join the day. Barney tugged at his leash pulling me towards his favorite marking spots making sure everyone knew that he was the 7 lb king of the road. I laugh as I realize that this is the first cold gray day that we have witnessed on our daily walks. Six weeks we have been blessed with sun and blue skies that could only bring delight to the most depressed person. I have been homesick for New England as of late. I want to hear the trees scream at me with orange, red, yellow and browns all the time reminding me that there was a time in history that I heard them without having to be screamed at.

Barney walks with a brisk beat to his stroll, stopping, smelling and finally looking back at me just to make sure I was doing well. I take the hint and skip like a child besides him, stopping when he halts and taking a deep breath with him. Fall comes rushing into my lungs filling me with all that I am missing. It is as if the plant life of the valley give off their own perfume that we only have to stop and take the time to enjoy. The dry, cold and peaceful fragrance dancing within my nostrils calling me home.

We live here in America running from home to job to shopping to home to eat to the gym to pick up the kids to etc....Always on the fast track we forget to take time and breath deep. I miss the feeling of being centered. Fall was the time of year that I buried deep within the colors of nature and myself learning how to be me and leave behind to woman who rushed around in the world. It took a small dog to remind me that I did not leave that centered woman on the hillside of her backyard in Massachusetts. She was here with him if only she listened to the simple calling of the trees that lined the Sierras that cradled her valley. The gray skies are thick and layered dusting the top of the mountains with a tinge of snow. Over my head I see a V of geese heading south to warm their hollow bones. Gratitude for the depth of gray and the crisp fragrance floats through my soul as I remember who and what I am.

Fall is harvest time. I look down at Barney as we trot along the road stopping smelling and marking our place in this world. Harvested within the gray of the morning I feel comforted in the fact that I can chose to have this day again whenever I want. I just have to listen to Barney and take a jaunt in his world....Listening to the calm voice whispering from the headphones, I realize that my poem was of the past running backwards without reason. If we live in the past we can not settle into the harvesting grays of today. Maybe I will rewrite that poem, maybe not... we will see what the morning brings....


Du Lac

 

[Du Lac]

thinking...

Morning began with small rays of the rising sun scratching at my head through the blinds that cover the window over the bed. The heat blaring away aganist the cold winds of the desert night I lay comforted within the layers of the quilts. There is nothing as sacred as a good nights sleep to an individual who has suffered extreme bouts of insomnia. Grateful for the sound sleep I reached out to pat Barneys head under the quilts receiving a small growl in respond. He hates getting out of the bed more than I do!

I sniff to smell the coffee has been made and reach out to Morgan's spot in the bed. It lies cool and empty. Smiling I relish the thought of being served coffee in bed. Streching I find a cat hat named Hoo has been placed upon my head. Realizing that I am awake he pulls at the crazy locks of my hair trying to tell me that it is time I got up and got him something to eat. Laughing I pat him and call out to Morgan. No response. "Morgan are you there?" Silence. My natural reaction is to think something bad has happened. Maybe he had a heart attack and is unconsious. I jump out of bed, disturbing my animal friends and look for him. No where to be found... the truck is gone and slowly the haze of my mind lifts and I think to myself that he must have had an early morning meeting. I call his cell to ease my own mind and leave a sleep soaked message of "Where are you?"

I reach over to the stainless steel coffee pot finding it still warm I pour myself a cup of the wake up juice I fill myself every morning. I feel uneasy that I always draw the wrong conculsion regarding issues such as this morning. Why I ask myself do I go jump head long into the worse case scenario? It seems the past is a shadow that haunts us regularly only to engulf us at our most vulnerable times. My history has taught me that far too many times when all is going perfect the other shoe drops and chaos reigns in the village. Nature deems that things can not be wonderful all the time but hell I would like them to last a wee bit longer when they are here! Laughing at myself is my best medicine. So I laugh light up a cigerette and press the on button to the my laptop. Its early as heck so I might as well try to write.

I go through the usual motions while the computer boots up. Feeding the cats, finding my slippers, putting Barney on my chair behind me and finally taking a long draught on the unusually large steaming coffee mug. When I was young I was far from a morning person. I used to stay up all night learning the lessons of youth becoming exhausted from the experiences and as a result I slept the morning away. So many beautiful places I have lived and so many mornings I lost. For that reason I cherish the solitude of mornings like this. My phone rings and it is Morgan laughing at me asking if I thought he died or something? He knows me so well. I am happy that he can laugh at me when I go through one of my pesty habits that I hate so much. We chat and tell each other "I love you" hanging up to start our days.

I think as I sip my coffee and burn that butt down to the filter what is it in me that wants peace so badly but still I find the old fears tracking my soul? I have not written anything for close to a year and right now I am finding it hard as hell to put anything down on paper. For that reason I returned to Literotica to be inspired by the many poets I found there and their writings. I also returned to some of my MSN groups for the same reason. I use the internet as a tool in which to learn from and as I click into the screens I await some form of communication to spark my interest.

I open a thread only to find the exact nonsense that was going on over a year ago littering the postings. Being a warrior Libra I read and slowly begin to fume. Why do people have to resort to name calling and abuse? It bothers me greatly to see time wasted in this fashion when so much can be said calmly and with couth. Frustrated I jump out of the site and go to see what is going on with my groups. Again I open to the threads and find the same thing there, fighting and defensiveness. I shake my head, sit back and fight my old demons. I lose and post what I am seeing develop once again on the site. Negative influences destroying any type of positive thinking. If we can not get along on the internet what makes me think that the universe can be helped?

I watch as my post which is calm and respectful is turned on me and I am attacked for wanting to come to a place where dignity and respect is shown to all people regarding their sharing of knowledge. I am baited and attempts to trigger me are used in ways that I have become the master at avoiding. Family and work has taught me how to see what they are trying to do. I refuse to be triggered into emotional response. I am accused of not addressing the issues and not being willing to take action. Why are some of the most intelligent people the most stubborn? Finally I ask myself why do you bother? Why try to be heard amongst the shouting and abusive name calling? I put in my finally reply stating my facts and let it go. Once again I have fallen victim to my past.

Barney calls and so does the cool morning breeze. Being outside centers me once again. We walk and met with the old folks of the park, Barney naturally sniffing other dogs sex organs and I listening to what this older man has to share with me. People love to be listened to. One of my gifts is the art of listening. I see the smile and recognition of self come through when I spend some time listening to another person. The morning sun gives me hope for the day and for people. This is important, listening and actively participating in another person's life. Not shouting at them when you do not agree. Defensiveness shuts out the learning process. My new friend walks his way and Barney tugs at the leash not ready to stop his sniffing. We laugh at the basic instincts of the animals. The recognize the existance of another living being. So much to be learned from the creatures we say we are greater than.

It seems our own intelligence deems us ignorant. We feel that we are superior to others and lose the nature of humility that whispers peace within the souls of man. I do not have to respond again to the banterings of others. I can state my thoughts and leave it. It seems to be human nature to want to fight. Why is that? I am tired when I think of this condition of human nature. It seems years ago that I had to fight so much to be heard. My ego deemed that I be heard. I guess there is a fine line in bettween that I never seem to find. I either want to be seen and heard or I want to be invisible not knowing how to walk the inbetween that may bring me the peace I crave.

Time to walk the trees I think. Listen to the slow and sultry lessons they brush across my ears all the while teasing me with peaceful living. I sip the last of my coffee now ice cold and know I have to write this all down. Why I don't know but maybe this is how I toe the fine line I seek.

blessings
du

 

[My Erotic Trail]

(~_~) bows humble

you can't let others drive you
crazy, unless you have given them the keys
I read this and felt the weight of your heavy heart

"... oh, pet Barney for me" <grin

The prose alone shows the passion you hold for mankind, all humans and their unhappiness touched you deeply, these are traits of a good soul. A morning dove that walks her dog along the trees and relays her passionate moments so well in a lil write. The crows cackled and hissed at one another while squirrels chased chipmunks and deer ran off so that they are not seen. An owl let out a poetic note as it wrestled with its sleep and there, in the tall pines, sat a hawk. Like the dove (or Snow Owl) it can fly and soar in its life, but we always seem to land both in new places and the places that we have been. There are always yin and yang in every place, person and object that we encounter. Some days we see the yang brightly and some days the yin pulls us into its domain. Circles that enter circles like seperate ripples connecting in a pond.

Well, that is my two cents on your write, very moving and so glad to have you back Du! I love reading your writes. (~_~)

 

[My Erotic Trail]

almost forgot...

Lou Lou and I (Lou Anne) are going to the Hill country this weekend, the heart of Texas, Luckenbauch and Fredricksburg for the Octoberfest. We'll be back Monday, going to visit the stomping grounds of one of my favorite poets; Hondo Crouch.

clip~
"We try to tell folks who come to Luckenbauch, what a big, mean Moon we have. But nobody'll believe us. Makes a little single couple sitting there, touch the backs of their hands together...

not much happened lately... except the potatoe chip man came by!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

any way, got the 'ole' Truck running, so we are off on a road trip to test her out <grin wish us luck (~_*) west Texas here we come.

 

[Du Lac]

Just for you art...

Thank you Art for the kind comments on my prose. This is how I get back into writing and hopefully the poetry will follow again soon. I hope you have a great trip and laugh alot! We are off to Yosemite for the weekend. Going to camp in the mountains and capture some bear energy!!!! Got the long johns out and ready for some of that mountain solitude.

It was a gray day here today..hail and thunderstorms leaving white stuff on the mountains that capture the front window view of my RV. I love it here big dramatic nature stuff all around me. Hopefully it will clear out the sadness I felt today about humanity.

be safe and smile
love
du~

 

[Du Lac]

Whispering meadows of mice and men
Engulfed within the timeless giants
Granite kings sit far above
watching the children dance within their shadows
Tiny creatures scurry about
exclaiming their wonder of this world
Running from here to there no time to stop
Only a moment away from death
High above the giants tears
pour forth
a waterfall of misery
lead by the shadows of mice and men.

 

[Du Lac]

Yosemite Valley .. still working on it

Whispering meadows of mice and men
engulfed within the obscurity of timeless giants.

Granite kings sit far above
they take the time
to stop, listen and watch
their children dance within stone shadows.

Tiny creatures barrel about, two legs run to and fro
exclaimations of awe rise from their lips
loud and now foriegn, they dominate the fields.

snap snap of the camera
slam of the car door
race the engine
off to the next giant

Quickly replaced,
another incoming van filled with needy humans
possessed by an addiction to capture the now.

No time to stop
Decline to listen
They will not watch.

A refusal to feel the lessons of nature
which vibrate from the valleys floor
and call down from the granite mounds
waiting for those who will only stop and listen.

No time to stop
hurry, hurry
must see it all....

snap snap of the camera
slams of the van doors
race the engine
off to the next King

Moments away from death
ignorant of their own timeline
dew flies through the air
disturbed by the scurry of their need.

Frightened mice scamper about
dodging roots of golden grass
to avoid the frantic feet of blind men
absorbed within the umbra of their insanity.

Tiny hearts beat madly
they stop to listen and watch,
no anger in their eyes
only pity for the lost chaotic souls
with no time to stop and listen.

High above the giants tears pour forth
misspent faith falls into the valley.
Beauty reigns from the mournful waters
inspired by the shadows of mice and men.

 

[Du Lac]

"The heart has the ability to experience so much---and we don't have
much time." -- Jack Gilbert

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Whispering meadows of mice and men
engulfed within the obscurity of timeless giants.

Granite kings sit far above
they take the time
to stop, listen and watch
their children dance within stone shadows.

Tiny creatures barrel about, two legs run to and fro
exclaimations of awe rise from their lips
loud and now foriegn, they dominate the fields.

snap snap of the camera
slam of the car door
race the engine
off to the next giant

Quickly replaced,
another incoming van filled with needy humans
possessed by an addiction to capture the now.

No time to stop
Decline to listen
They will not watch.

A refusal to feel the lessons of nature
which vibrate from the valleys floor
and call down from the granite mounds
waiting for those who will only stop and listen.

No time to stop
hurry, hurry
must see it all....

snap snap of the camera
slams of the van doors
race the engine
off to the next King

Moments away from death
ignorant of their own timeline
dew flies through the air
disturbed by the scurry of their need.

Frightened mice scamper about
dodging roots of golden grass
to avoid the frantic feet of blind men
absorbed within the umbra of their insanity.

Tiny hearts beat madly
they stop to listen and watch,
no anger in their eyes
only pity for the lost chaotic souls
with no time to stop and listen.

High above the giants tears pour forth
misspent faith falls into the valley.
Beauty reigns from the mournful waters
inspired by the shadows of mice and men.

yes, yes... I saw this so clearly this time around <grin
I also saw this... this past weekend in the hill country <grin
so sad that so many can say that they have been there
yet can they say they absorbed its true nature?
good one Du~

 

[My Erotic Trail]

in the morning
I sought the dew
capturing it
with wet bell bottoms

 

[Du Lac]

Morning Walks con't

My goal is to write three pages a day in order to get my “writer soul” back. As usual, the internet distracted me. I should know better than to turn the dang thing on. It only stops the progress of my daily goals. It seemed that this writing was starting on the whiny side so I decided to look at my list of goals for the day. Barney of course reminded me that my goal for the morning was to take him on the daily walk. Today’s goal was to walk four times around the park for a total of four miles. Usually we only walk two miles at the most in the morning. I always find a reason not to go any farther.

Lately, I have been thinking to myself what happened to the Denise I used to be. I had tons of energy and nothing stood in my way. Now it seems I lack motivation to fulfill my goals. I force myself to walk and eat right as well as write. I have sparks of inspiration; tiny downloads to stimulate my thinking processes. Then I seem to get lost in so many thoughts that I get nothing accomplished. I have been isolating myself from others. I hate talking on the phone, going out to see people or getting things done that requires me to step into an office and ask for help. A weakness I see that needs to reversed so that I do not become a hermit again. These things seem like a turn into insanity but I also become spiritually enlightened during these times of isolation.

I noticed that I have not been listening as of late. Not listening, as all people believe in listening, such as in a conversation. Rather taking the time to look and really hear the earth, a cloud or a speck of sunlight. Tiny voices screaming “hear me” and all the while, I just keep walking and remaining ignorant. So today on my walk with Barney I got my head phones and put in a CD called Inner Peace. Oriental flutes and running water to keep my thoughts from keeping me deaf. We walked and walked, as I took time to listen with my eyes. I heard the clouds speak to me showing me how they are the true shape shifters of mystics. I listened to the nothingness in which they transform from a roadrunner streaking across the blue into a feather larger than a mountain floating in the azure. My first thought when I saw that first feather was of the book Illusions by Richard Bach. On the cover there floats a blueish white feather amongst the night skies. To me the feather was a reminder to not respond to our own limits. To believe the impossible in this realm because it is only possible without limits of our mental abyss. I find myself responding to the reality of limits and forgetting the lessons of the feather.

Today I struggle to find the parts of me that I loved in my past and combine them with the new woman I am learning to be. Last night we went to the library one of favorite safe houses of this world. As soon as I walked into the building, I felt a stimulation flow through my blood. I listened and cherished the quietness of the space, the gentle turning of pages, typing on keyboards and breathing of others lost in the trance of this house of learning. I did not realize how blessed I was in Massachusetts when it came to libraries. In the small area that I lived there were 5 of the best libraries within the campuses of higher learning. The University of Massachusetts Amherst had to itself a library of 26 floors. So much learning waiting to be opened, explored and embraced. When I moved to Utah, I was excited about getting a library card. I ventured to St. George with all the necessary paperwork to prove I was worthy of the precious card. I was amazed at the tiny building that this city called a library. I was saddened that the selections they supported were tiny in comparison to what I was accustomed to. I learned to deal with it and to understand that we do not always see the wonders when they are placed before us, rather appreciation grows when we are removed from the things we so take for granted. So with reservations I approached the Carson City Library expecting little and found that while it did not represent the grandeur of the ancient buildings in the East, there was a great deal to be held within these walls of knowledge. Therefore, I roamed, thinking what was it that I wanted to take from this hall.

Disappointment came when I looked for books on Edgar Cayce and found only one. I sat there and listened as my fingers roamed the shelves nearby until they rested on a book that I had picked up many times but never had read. “It seems that it is time for this one,” I thought to myself, picking it off the shelf and moving on. Recently I have noticed that I did not have to seek in regards to books, they would find me when it was time that I would understand them to their fullest. I smiled to myself and moved on.

I remembered my thoughts on my lack of listening skills and turned my attention to the audiobook section. There I found another old friend that I have cracked the binding over and over but never invested myself in. Siddhartha in audio form became my next project. I traveled around, picked up a few more books and tapes happy with my collection, and looked for Morgan. He noticed the change in me immediately. My eyes sparkled and I was eager to eat the words that surfaced upon the pages. He laughed at his smart girl as he calls me and welcomed the old Denise back.

Hence, my start today on my goals of writing three pages, walking 4 miles and listening. I cannot give any form of guidance if I do not hold myself to my own values. I am beginning to believe that I am holding myself to the limits of this life of material living. I will not become what my family deems me to be. They want me to be normal, live a life of quiet existence that can only remind of the “Desperation” of Walden. Therefore, I feed my mind and continue to write, read and think.

Our families can be such blight in our lives. We find ourselves divided when we do not live up to their expectations, the burning of the feather and the acceptance of limitations. I think of my family now and I feel a sadness that cannot be explained. They live within the same region of their birth. They do not travel, do not explore, they just live. I feel their heaviness of desperation scream across the miles of our separation even though they will not speak to me. I find it difficult to believe I hold the same DNA as these people. Everyday I walk now focusing on mountains that are covered with snow. I see blue skies that are so azure I know Crayola created a crayon to copy this peaceful color. It saddens me that my mother will never see these wonders be it physically here with me or by listening to me tell her of this lands wonders. I do not own their issues but because we are so programmed to be loyal to our families I feel pulled still as I sit here and look out the window studying the sun glare off of the winter white of Job’s Peak. It seems my family has taken dying to heart and continue to live a life of regularity and safety.

I sit here and think if they can influence me without touching, talking or being near me. My answer is yes. I do still own some of the issues they have handed down to me through the years. I find that part of my issue with not being motivated is due to past ways of dealing with their disappointment. I felt that I never had any hope of achieving what I believed because I allowed them to own me totally. Now that I have the support and love from one who sees the grace and joy of my seeking answers and trying to be more than I dreamed of, I find it hard to embrace this love. As I said I am struggling to meld the old Denise and the new finding out along the way just who Denise is. It is an exciting journey.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

My goal is to write three pages a day in order to get my “writer soul” back. As usual, the internet distracted me. I should know better than to turn the dang thing on. It only stops the progress of my daily goals. It seemed that this writing was starting on the whiny side so I decided to look at my list of goals for the day. Barney of course reminded me that my goal for the morning was to take him on the daily walk. Today’s goal was to walk four times around the park for a total of four miles. Usually we only walk two miles at the most in the morning. I always find a reason not to go any farther.

Lately, I have been thinking to myself what happened to the Denise I used to be. I had tons of energy and nothing stood in my way. Now it seems I lack motivation to fulfill my goals. I force myself to walk and eat right as well as write. I have sparks of inspiration; tiny downloads to stimulate my thinking processes. Then I seem to get lost in so many thoughts that I get nothing accomplished. I have been isolating myself from others. I hate talking on the phone, going out to see people or getting things done that requires me to step into an office and ask for help. A weakness I see that needs to reversed so that I do not become a hermit again. These things seem like a turn into insanity but I also become spiritually enlightened during these times of isolation.

I noticed that I have not been listening as of late. Not listening, as all people believe in listening, such as in a conversation. Rather taking the time to look and really hear the earth, a cloud or a speck of sunlight. Tiny voices screaming “hear me” and all the while, I just keep walking and remaining ignorant. So today on my walk with Barney I got my head phones and put in a CD called Inner Peace. Oriental flutes and running water to keep my thoughts from keeping me deaf. We walked and walked, as I took time to listen with my eyes. I heard the clouds speak to me showing me how they are the true shape shifters of mystics. I listened to the nothingness in which they transform from a roadrunner streaking across the blue into a feather larger than a mountain floating in the azure. My first thought when I saw that first feather was of the book Illusions by Richard Bach. On the cover there floats a blueish white feather amongst the night skies. To me the feather was a reminder to not respond to our own limits. To believe the impossible in this realm because it is only possible without limits of our mental abyss. I find myself responding to the reality of limits and forgetting the lessons of the feather.

Today I struggle to find the parts of me that I loved in my past and combine them with the new woman I am learning to be. Last night we went to the library one of favorite safe houses of this world. As soon as I walked into the building, I felt a stimulation flow through my blood. I listened and cherished the quietness of the space, the gentle turning of pages, typing on keyboards and breathing of others lost in the trance of this house of learning. I did not realize how blessed I was in Massachusetts when it came to libraries. In the small area that I lived there were 5 of the best libraries within the campuses of higher learning. The University of Massachusetts Amherst had to itself a library of 26 floors. So much learning waiting to be opened, explored and embraced. When I moved to Utah, I was excited about getting a library card. I ventured to St. George with all the necessary paperwork to prove I was worthy of the precious card. I was amazed at the tiny building that this city called a library. I was saddened that the selections they supported were tiny in comparison to what I was accustomed to. I learned to deal with it and to understand that we do not always see the wonders when they are placed before us, rather appreciation grows when we are removed from the things we so take for granted. So with reservations I approached the Carson City Library expecting little and found that while it did not represent the grandeur of the ancient buildings in the East, there was a great deal to be held within these walls of knowledge. Therefore, I roamed, thinking what was it that I wanted to take from this hall.

Disappointment came when I looked for books on Edgar Cayce and found only one. I sat there and listened as my fingers roamed the shelves nearby until they rested on a book that I had picked up many times but never had read. “It seems that it is time for this one,” I thought to myself, picking it off the shelf and moving on. Recently I have noticed that I did not have to seek in regards to books, they would find me when it was time that I would understand them to their fullest. I smiled to myself and moved on.

I remembered my thoughts on my lack of listening skills and turned my attention to the audiobook section. There I found another old friend that I have cracked the binding over and over but never invested myself in. Siddhartha in audio form became my next project. I traveled around, picked up a few more books and tapes happy with my collection, and looked for Morgan. He noticed the change in me immediately. My eyes sparkled and I was eager to eat the words that surfaced upon the pages. He laughed at his smart girl as he calls me and welcomed the old Denise back.

Hence, my start today on my goals of writing three pages, walking 4 miles and listening. I cannot give any form of guidance if I do not hold myself to my own values. I am beginning to believe that I am holding myself to the limits of this life of material living. I will not become what my family deems me to be. They want me to be normal, live a life of quiet existence that can only remind of the “Desperation” of Walden. Therefore, I feed my mind and continue to write, read and think.

Our families can be such blight in our lives. We find ourselves divided when we do not live up to their expectations, the burning of the feather and the acceptance of limitations. I think of my family now and I feel a sadness that cannot be explained. They live within the same region of their birth. They do not travel, do not explore, they just live. I feel their heaviness of desperation scream across the miles of our separation even though they will not speak to me. I find it difficult to believe I hold the same DNA as these people. Everyday I walk now focusing on mountains that are covered with snow. I see blue skies that are so azure I know Crayola created a crayon to copy this peaceful color. It saddens me that my mother will never see these wonders be it physically here with me or by listening to me tell her of this lands wonders. I do not own their issues but because we are so programmed to be loyal to our families I feel pulled still as I sit here and look out the window studying the sun glare off of the winter white of Job’s Peak. It seems my family has taken dying to heart and continue to live a life of regularity and safety.

I sit here and think if they can influence me without touching, talking or being near me. My answer is yes. I do still own some of the issues they have handed down to me through the years. I find that part of my issue with not being motivated is due to past ways of dealing with their disappointment. I felt that I never had any hope of achieving what I believed because I allowed them to own me totally. Now that I have the support and love from one who sees the grace and joy of my seeking answers and trying to be more than I dreamed of, I find it hard to embrace this love. As I said I am struggling to meld the old Denise and the new finding out along the way just who Denise is. It is an exciting journey.

hugs to the new denise <grin
I love the book 'Illusions' (~_~)
and perhaps, (I think real hard) there is a deep message I should take to heart when you say, I don't listen, I don't listen to folks very well, I am told but will sit out back and note a calling dove or hawk, or the wind coming through the trees, letting me know it is coming, INTERESTING <grin as always I love your writes, seems I learn about my self reading you <grin

 

[Du Lac]

Afternoon Mind Walking

Well here I am again putting my fingers to the keyboard to honor myself by completing the goals for the day. This three page writing challenge is suppose to be accomplished first thing in the morning. As usual, I had something get in the way. I turned on the PC and decided that I was going to defrost the freezer while I wrote. The freezer empty and the unit turned off I continued with the PC waiting for the switch from my laptop to my desktop for access to take place. While I waited, I started to polish the wood in the RV. That was the first mistake. Before I knew it, I had polished the entire RV, washed the walls, the floors, removed the vent covers, soaking them and then replacing them. I can not believe where the time went. So here I sit with a clean house and Dr. Phil lecturing from the TV reminding me that I had goals that I did not fulfill today.

OCD. How many of us have periods of this? It spans into my life in so many ways, cleaning, organizing, writing, seeking spiritual connectedness. OCD is the direct opposite of balance. Now I use this term loosely for I have not been diagnosed with this disease. I just display small tendencies that are symptoms of what is called OCD. Sometimes I think I do these things so that I can avoid my goal list. Funny how it is easy to be so honest on paper and when one reads what they have written they are astonished by the truthfulness that floats from their words.

Barney is disappointed in me today. He had to wait for a small walk and we did not accomplish as of yet number one on the goal list of walking four miles with him in tow. It seems he will have to wait until tonight to get his happiness in. It will be good to have a change of scenery. It is not that our route will change it is the light of the ending day that changes everything around us in this valley. Soft and hard colors mix in the sky harbored within the illusion of clouds. Pink, purple laced with white and slate grays float over our heads as the orange of the setting sun lights up the sky. I am looking forward to the night walk with him tonight. He deserves it. I need to write to my mother and thank her for bringing this little bundle of joy into my life 9 years ago.

I had a hard time sleeping last night. So many thoughts flew through my head after spending time reading and learning. I sat there talking to Morgan until not only did his head hurt but my head was also thumping like a clogged pipe. Now I sit here trying to write about all that knowledge that was swimming in my head and it is just gone. I cannot believe that what I am watching on TV right now, teachers sleeping with their students and justifying it on television. This young woman is sitting on TV with Dr. Phil and has an answer for every question that he asks. Excuses continue to spill from her mouth as she explains that she was a virgin, never in love before, could not control herself etc. She believes her sentence should be probation. This is insanity in its fullest. What is happening to this world? We cannot even send our children to school without them maybe becoming a victim to a female teacher. Then the teacher gets house arrest because she is too pretty to be put into jail. WHAT? Again I ask what is our world coming to?

It seems that the more advanced we get in the world of technology, the more be become morally stunted. It is time I believe for more people to learn to listen to something other then themselves. How can one be selfish when they stare up at a mountain, see the V of geese flying south or hear the beat of a stationary hummingbird helping the world continue to live? I believe people are bored. They used to have so many things to do in a day. When we lived from the land there was little time to become bored with life hence, falling into immoral activities. Cows needed milking, sheep sheared; fields planted or harvested all ways of remaining connected to the earth and her cycles and keeping one busy with their life and those who are dependent on you. Teachers not only taught students but they had to maintain their own lives. Technology is killing our world and we stand in line to be slaughtered.

Every morning I put on the weather channel to see what the land has to offer for the day. Mother Earth is speaking to us and we do not listen. Colorado covered with snow so early. Buffalo New York is without power leaving people frustrated and angry all because they can no longer take care of themselves without electricity. Texas is flooded with the same issues leaving people lost and confused at what is happening. Where would we be if we had no electricity? Do we know how to survive without it? Has anyone even given this any real thought as of late as they drive their car through the drive thru at McDonald’s? Can they take care of themselves or will we be reduced to primitive fear driven animals stealing, killing and maiming others and ourselves. It is amazing to me that so many people just go through their day not giving the slightest thought to how electricity revolves within their lives and how would life be without it.

There are so many things that people take for granted now. We live in America the land of the free. As I see it we are far from free. Our independence seeking spirits have isolated us from our families and friends. We hate to ask for help and always look at another with suspicion when they face the fear and do ask for our help. The world revolves around the “I” and others can take care of themselves. How many people today bow their heads and give thanks to the soldiers overseas that our fighting for our right to be an American? How many Americans remember that we are at war? The American people have lost their roots. Lost in a land that they destroyed the natural carriers of the soils myth they try to create their own. We have forgotten that what comes around goes around medicine of the world. We carry the weight of the destructiveness to the Indians and it will come back to us. We disrespected them and destroyed our own chance at thriving but not listening to the land cry for its mythmakers. It is time for the American people to learn how to take care of themselves again and learn to listen.

 

[Du Lac]

It is Friday and beautiful out! This is the perfect fall day here in Nevada. I love my mornings now. When I was in Utah I had to get up at 5:30 AM suck down a cup of coffee, get the dogs out, try like hell to wake up, get dressed and run out the door to be greeted by the night staff who always had a hand full of problems for me to address before my day started at 6:30 AM. This long sentence displays exactly how I felt morning after morning. I am not a morning person in the first place, so to do all of this before the sun was up was a chore. Morgan made my lunch, refilled my coffee, got me out the door and was my crutch in order to do what was needed in the morning rush. I never seemed to get enough rest and could never seem to be a morning woman regardless of how hard I tried.

Now my morning is peaceful and quiet. The coffee is always already set up in the morning so all we have to do is start the flame and wait for the rich fragrance to reach out and touch our nostrils. We are gentle and soft in the morning so different from our Utah wake ups. We sit and talk about the goals for the day, sip coffee, pet the cats, laugh at all the animals and when stimulated make love. Now we get up together as Morgan walks out the door (not running) and I start the day. Such a peace comes over me as I sip my morning java and watch the day begin.

After reading emails and threads from my groups, I threw my clothes on and headed out with Barney for our daily jaunt. Usually when I slap the headphones on what comes out is some classical or New Age music. Today I changed the routine and put in my CSN greatest hits. Judy Blue Eyes came on and I floated with every step I placed down on the tar-covered earth. This was my teenage music. I watched Barney scurry here to there and watched his happiness to be outside shine. I appreciate this disc player so much! It was a gift from Morgan because he knows how important music is to my well-being. He always says we do not need a lot but what we do have should be quality. Hence, this disc player is a Bose and I can feel the difference as the music floats in my ears. Listening carefully I notice various voices in the songs that I never heard before. It was as if I was hearing the song for the first time. Looking up I see my daily fellow walkers, we smile as usual and bid each other a good morning.

The gray haired woman has such positive energy around her. Her smile gleams easily from her lips, so natural and part of her soul. I am happy when I pass by her energy daily on our walks. The valley is so beautiful here. Skies blue and clear, the air tinged with enough crispness to make sure you remember that winter is creeping upon us. I look at the tiny lake looking for my small family of ducks that glide slowly across the waters surface every morning. They are not there today. This saddens me as I float in and out of time listening to the music. Tears run from my eyes as I remember the girl who sang these songs loud and badly. I let go of my inhibitions and sing the songs allowing them to float on the small breeze that blows against my face.

Today I like who I am becoming. Barney and I walk, pass strangers and float an easy hello towards them. It is easy to be gentle to others here. I allow myself to let go of my walls, walk, listen and just be. I notice how the little post-its of pink goals have helped me keep on track. I am grateful for them and smile when I see that I may not accomplish all the goals listed I at least keep true to ones that I feel help me grow. I feel a balance coming upon me now. I do not feel so lost in all this time with so much to do and little getting accomplished.

One thing I have noticed I took out of my regular practice is praying. This saddens me once I become aware of the fact. This will have to be one thing I put on top of my pink goal lists. Not praying connects to my not being able to write or listen properly. I feel this is a correct assessment of the situation. I think back to my most spiritual moments and remember taking the time daily for prayer. Prayer to me is not just talking to God/Creator. It is also being in the stillness of the moment and listening within the quietude. I lost this skill during my Utah morning madness. The good thing about getting older is that we can easily stop and learn from the past. That said I will set aside time for prayer today and every morning.

Another issue I have recognized on my morning walks is the trust that has developed between Morgan and me. I thought I trusted him before I sold everything, packed the car and headed west. I know now that it was not so much trust in him but trust in God/Creator. I prayed repeatedly. I spent hours of silence listening to my heart and opening myself to God /Creator’s wisdom. It seems the busier I get the farther away from my roots I get. Thank goodness for age and music to remind me what my roots are.

CSN continues to filter through my head. Southern Cross reaches in and touches my soul. I am a child again listening and remembering. I did not realize when I was small how much I prayed. I trusted and loved. Innocence always us to do this, time passed and those precious gifts were shattered. Now at 45 I am once again a child at times floating within the lessons of love and trust. My faith in a higher power falters at times, as it does with most people. The more I learn about faiths of the world at times the more confused I become. As I have said, technology can kill us. I sit and read from the archives of pages on the internet and listen to my heart to find some truth. I realize now I do not have to do this. All I have to do is sit and listen. Trust that I have the power within myself to find my own answers.

Trust is a difficult thing to discover. I believe we are all born with it. It is natural if our Mothers take care of themselves while we are housed within their bodies. If our parents love us with honor, they will continue to build our experience in trusting. Not all children are blessed with parents who inspire trust. When this happens it takes the child years to learn how to trust. In my case it is 40 something years. It has been a long time coming.

I watch this show in the middle of the day called Judging Amy. I have been doing so on and off for a few years. The mother/daughter relation displayed on this show is very close to my mother and myself. It is an intense love/hate/love relationship. Right now my mother has disowned me because I left her world and moved on with Morgan. That is the short and long of it. I am sure she would give you all kinds of reasons for not talking to me but in the end I took my life back and she did not like it. I watch this show so I don’t miss her so much. I am my mothers daughter in the fact that I am just as stubborn as her. I have always been the one to bow and go back. This time I will not. It is time for change in our relationship but it seems that she does not want a relationship with me. For the first time in my life, I do not know how to continue owning my own life but offer her to be a part of it. In the end, it comes down to rejection. I hate rejection. I understand now that trust has a lot to do with my reluctance to write her a letter. So day in and day out I watch this show and cry. I do not know why I subject myself to emotional response but I will be honest and tell you that I have not shed a tear over her rejection of my taking control of my own life. It hurts. Funny, she always spoke harshly against my father for abandoning our family but when it is something she does she has all kinds of reasons why she reacts the way she does. This come and going of her love has not been an inspiration of trust in my life. Regardless, I keep going, listening to my heart and fighting to understand my life and why I must learn the lessons I continue to learn. It is all good. What I have realized as I type is that more than anything I am learning to trust myself which is new and a positive change in my life. I love my mother and hope that I will soon have the strength to face rejection. I would not change a thing in my life. It’s all about the learning, loving and sharing. Morgan has given me more than my dreams could hold. The most precious gift is learning to like and trust myself. I no longer reject Denise and that is worth all the tears a television show can shed.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I feel ya...

I have to suck down a cup of coffee before I leave the house, a good song can first thing in the morning can make my day. One of those songs that stick in your head all day, like... "I... just want to celebrate... another day of living!"

Been currently connected to the real world, I recieved a fancy dish network from my mother for my birthday (nothing more than passing on what they were not using after getting the ultimate satellite package and what do I watch?... news... news... and the unit <grin

I found similaritys in our days then again we all must eat, sleep, feel and deal with life so why would our inner motives be the same? probably due to our soul's hunger... being similar.

as always du, I enjoy reading you (~_~)

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I touched
the morning dew
<grin

 

[Du Lac]

We had a splendid weekend and I feel revived and strong again. Fire night got moved to Saturday because of the down pours that I believe you in the Eastern half of the US are experiencing now. Rain in the desert is sacred and I feel blessed to walk on water soaked soil when it rains. I felt as if the clouds over head were crying for me when I could not releasing me from the fetters of earthly expectations of others. Washing me clean revealing the peace of this land I live in to soak into my soul.

I have been reading a very interesting book on Native American Prophesies and how they are linked to the Mayan culture. I have had this information given to me when I have connected with the Powers and it felt wonderful to see the connection pour forth from a book and show me that my thinking is not crazy!!!! When I am done with the book I will share some of the knowledge with you that I have learned.

Saturday was a peaceful day. I had fallen asleep extremly early Friday night so I awoke with strength and a peaceful soul. We spent early hours reading discussing and laughing in bed. Animals surrounding us we felt safe and loved. I love our mornings like this. After feeling we had spent enough time lounging we packed up and went to South Tahoe and hit a trail that wanders through Ponderosa Pines that border the lake. As I had earlier mentioned the clouds had spent two days crying tears so all was fresh and renewed. A tinge of chilliness touched the air fragrant with fall smells of dry leaves pushed from the branches of now barren trees. Pine smells floating in and out of my soul with the wet air as I wandered with Morgan and Barney in and out of the shadows of ancient tree people who gently reminded me of why I am here. It was a blessed time. I am so grateful that I have this time to stop and remember the truth about life and be reminded by my friends of nature when I become unbalanced.

As we drove down the Kingbury grade we overlook Carson Valley which at sunset brought tears to my eyes. The colors bounced over the mountains that surround the east side of the valley as we descended fromt he snow covered Sierras that stand so regal on the West. Cows dot the valleys floor as pinks and gray rose over the valley. Shadows dancing as the colors spread for miles. We had to stop on the side of the road because so many people were flying down the mountain in their vehicles and not seeing the granduar that was displayed before them. We understand that a few seconds can save your life be it physically or spiritually when presented with the grace of the Creator's paint brush. Just as we were half way down the mountain the nearly full moon rose before us. The sky a midnight blue with dusting of pink and white edged in grays were bowing to the power of the moon's purity matching the white of the new snow that capped the Sierras. I knew then that peace that envelopes one's spirit when they witness a miracle. I said a small blessing and smiled at Morgan. No need for words, as he returned my smile knowing that he no longer had to worry about me, that all was balanced again.

My lessons came to me with signs from nature this weekend. We must have seen 75 hawks this weekend as we drove in the Sierras and on Sunday through Smith Valley. I am very drawn to hawks for they have given me messages all my life. I knew that I was missing something of the lesson I was to learn from my sadness of the prior week. Morgan and I usually do a reading of Medicine Cards (Animal) and Sacred Path Cards together on Saturday or Sunday mornings. Today I realized that in all our exploring we did not do this. So I pulled the decks out and we did a reading. It was vibrational and hit the core of my lessons. The final card was the Hawk reversed that told me that I was not listening nor using my ability to see signs. The strongest lesson I got was that I am having expectations and this is not for me to do if I want to live a peaceful life. The next was huge it is not up to me to tell others how to behave. OMG! I laughed because that is exactly what I was doing when I experienced this sadness due to the expectations I placed on others in the group. I am but a messenger and that is to do so by walking the talk not by verbalizing my disappointments when others fall victim to their egos. I myself in doing this fell victim to my own ego for I was verbalizing expectations upon others who may at this time not be on the same path as I. Huge lessons for this woman today.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

We had a splendid weekend and I feel revived and strong again. Fire night got moved to Saturday because of the down pours that I believe you in the Eastern half of the US are experiencing now. Rain in the desert is sacred and I feel blessed to walk on water soaked soil when it rains. I felt as if the clouds over head were crying for me when I could not releasing me from the fetters of earthly expectations of others. Washing me clean revealing the peace of this land I live in to soak into my soul.

I have been reading a very interesting book on Native American Prophesies and how they are linked to the Mayan culture. I have had this information given to me when I have connected with the Powers and it felt wonderful to see the connection pour forth from a book and show me that my thinking is not crazy!!!! When I am done with the book I will share some of the knowledge with you that I have learned.

Saturday was a peaceful day. I had fallen asleep extremly early Friday night so I awoke with strength and a peaceful soul. We spent early hours reading discussing and laughing in bed. Animals surrounding us we felt safe and loved. I love our mornings like this. After feeling we had spent enough time lounging we packed up and went to South Tahoe and hit a trail that wanders through Ponderosa Pines that border the lake. As I had earlier mentioned the clouds had spent two days crying tears so all was fresh and renewed. A tinge of chilliness touched the air fragrant with fall smells of dry leaves pushed from the branches of now barren trees. Pine smells floating in and out of my soul with the wet air as I wandered with Morgan and Barney in and out of the shadows of ancient tree people who gently reminded me of why I am here. It was a blessed time. I am so grateful that I have this time to stop and remember the truth about life and be reminded by my friends of nature when I become unbalanced.

As we drove down the Kingbury grade we overlook Carson Valley which at sunset brought tears to my eyes. The colors bounced over the mountains that surround the east side of the valley as we descended fromt he snow covered Sierras that stand so regal on the West. Cows dot the valleys floor as pinks and gray rose over the valley. Shadows dancing as the colors spread for miles. We had to stop on the side of the road because so many people were flying down the mountain in their vehicles and not seeing the granduar that was displayed before them. We understand that a few seconds can save your life be it physically or spiritually when presented with the grace of the Creator's paint brush. Just as we were half way down the mountain the nearly full moon rose before us. The sky a midnight blue with dusting of pink and white edged in grays were bowing to the power of the moon's purity matching the white of the new snow that capped the Sierras. I knew then that peace that envelopes one's spirit when they witness a miracle. I said a small blessing and smiled at Morgan. No need for words, as he returned my smile knowing that he no longer had to worry about me, that all was balanced again.

My lessons came to me with signs from nature this weekend. We must have seen 75 hawks this weekend as we drove in the Sierras and on Sunday through Smith Valley. I am very drawn to hawks for they have given me messages all my life. I knew that I was missing something of the lesson I was to learn from my sadness of the prior week. Morgan and I usually do a reading of Medicine Cards (Animal) and Sacred Path Cards together on Saturday or Sunday mornings. Today I realized that in all our exploring we did not do this. So I pulled the decks out and we did a reading. It was vibrational and hit the core of my lessons. The final card was the Hawk reversed that told me that I was not listening nor using my ability to see signs. The strongest lesson I got was that I am having expectations and this is not for me to do if I want to live a peaceful life. The next was huge it is not up to me to tell others how to behave. OMG! I laughed because that is exactly what I was doing when I experienced this sadness due to the expectations I placed on others in the group. I am but a messenger and that is to do so by walking the talk not by verbalizing my disappointments when others fall victim to their egos. I myself in doing this fell victim to my own ego for I was verbalizing expectations upon others who may at this time not be on the same path as I. Huge lessons for this woman today.

some act suprised when I tell them Hawks migrate. There is a huge field behind my house and there is a large pecan tree along the back fence, every year about a half dozen hawks roost there during winter. They have not come yet but we have been seeing the vulcers migrating so the hawks will follow then the eagles <grin Saw a large flock of geese this weekend while duck hunting, yes the ducks are coming too <grin looks like an early winter meaning a harsher winter than the norm. We usually have shorts on all the way untill thanksgiving an we are already using heaters <grin I always enjoy your writes.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Snow owl
is rarely seen
perched
near a field of snow
or a fast moving cloud
across the sky
an illusion
of the mind's eye

 

[Du Lac]

Coyote Moon

A coyote moon rises
upon our horizon.

Sink your spirit
into the fullness of
Diana's white light.

Listen
to the primitive howl
of the coyote calls
awaken your womanhood.

Embraced her desires
dance
go home.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

A coyote moon rises
upon our horizon.

Sink your spirit
into the fullness of
Diana's white light.

Listen
to the primitive howl
of the coyote calls
awaken your womanhood.

Embraced her desires
dance
go home.

great minds think alike;
I had just submitted a poem
'wolves of the world'

I like your 'coyote moon
mystical, short but not short on erotic and wrapped in nature with an indian tone to it, nice poem (~_~)

 

[Du Lac]

May each woman see her beauty
mirrored in the precious snowflake.

Unique, strong and graceful
each snowflake holds the universe within
A stunning fractal floating towards home:
Mother Earth.

Each of us holds the Goddess within.
We shine forth as a snowflake
joining others to create
a warm white blanket to dazzle the world.

 

[Du Lac]

Our lives are filled with challenges.
May you find the joy in the difficult
understanding the passion of living;
that flames through our soul,
when we learn to see beauty
in the ugliness of life.