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Yes, the walls of Jericho had to come down. And In the face of this new day, new season, it was time to wake up and sing a new song.
This week’s features are about a journey toward freedom. There is a storm that rages in the heart of woman and it never sleeps. It is a reality that numbs as if it is a dream on auto-pilot repeat. It drums and it drums and it drums like the pitter-patter of spring rain while woman takes refuge within whatever shelter she can find or build to drown out the drumming. But she can’t hide here forever lest she lose herself altogether. She must break through these walls and set her soul free.
Enjoy the journey of dimensional awakening.
She opened her eyes in the realm of the dream too soon, or was it too late? The scent of deception burned her subconscious as she pushed past the nightmare into the unknown.
Uncharted by © Fiery Fire
Somewhere between longing and forgetting, she had to remember to find the courage to clear the slate.
Longing and Forgetting by © Mary Ann Reilly
Winter and the few remaining birds
squat on wires stretched
from pole to pole
alongside the coastline:
dark ink blotches
unmoving.
Dusk comes hard
in this borderland
between longing and forgetting
and we speed beyond
the sea-shack shanties,
worn signposts,
leaving behind
the coastline
and an odd remembrance
of what we cannot become.
Here between sky and sea
what we’ve known
is gradually erased.
The familiar becomes
fuzzy, distant
until what is bird
and what is sky
cannot be known.
The only certainty, you say,
is remix: caught as we are
on this awful road to becoming
like some damn mobius strip
destined to travel again and again
and I watch
as you turn your shoulder
into the next curve
so that your body
becomes the car,
becomes my very breath,
catching.
And in a spirit of courage, she must push through the inner storm.
Rain Drops by © Marlies Odehnal
Just as she must push through her inner turmoil.
Redemption by © Sally Omar
with bowed head
redemption is sought
sins of the past torment
that cannot be erased
can so many sins be forgiven
the putrid words
that split the heart of a loved one
the ten thousand falsehoods
that easily flowed from lips
with eye contact and assurance
all the time knowing the truth
the distasteful remarks
that made so many uncomfortable
the hate exhibited
toward anyone of a different ethnicity
different religion
or exhibiting different ideals
the cruelty shown
to the creatures of nature
the icy heart revealed
for those in need
the greed
money became the only god
the gluttony
food and drink
no limitations
while others went hungry
pray a little harder
life is coming to an end
but redemption
may not be yours
redemption
She must reclaim herself, even if it’s one piece at a time…
Seeking Self — Struggling to Come Back by © Cara Schingeck
Lest she’s washed away with the tears of yesterday’s dirty dishwater.
Heartbreak by © chitrali
Tear tracks down my cheek..
Just on one side of my face,
On one cheek.
The left:
Fill..
Slip.
Slide.
Drip.
.
.
Drip.
.
.
Drip.
.
.
Under my chin.
*
The right: clear eyed, dry, raw…
(It’s the one that spots the red traffic light turn green).
*
I give too many tears, too easily, to him…
They’re diamonds – (that much I do know now)
And he thinks they’re just feminine salty water.
*
Tear tracks down my cheek..
Just on one side of my face,
On one cheek,
The left.
Fill.
Slip.
Slide.
Drip…
Why just the one eye, the one cheek, I wonder?
Perhaps it is because that’s where
The bastard lives: my traitorous heart,
Now torn asunder.
(once again).
Reconnecting with the still, small voice of her soul just might prove to be the first step in becoming whole.
Care of the Soul by © Anthea Slade
Yet, doesn’t she realize she’s not alone, that she doesn’t have to face the giants on her own?
Seeing Is Believing by © AnniG
I breathe your heartache
spill your many unshed tears
I tend the invisible aches
repeatedly bubbling, rising up
erupting from the depths of your
existence
I face the inconceivable fears
persistently gnawing at your senses
I recognize the abysmal sadness
of sorrow living, growing, thriving
in the rich and cultivated soil of your
soul
I read the range of intense emotion
scribed between the unwritten pages
I unravel the intricate fabric of your life
sharing visions through silver strands
of mysterious bonds and joyful
spirits
Yes, I see
I see
you
For she is connected to a sisterhood deeply rooted into ancient soil.
Mother Nature by © Jenelle McKain
She needs only to look through to the other side where her reflection is waiting.
Invisible by Cynthia Lund Torroll
She peeks through the reeds -
camouflaged, coded for a
moment of pure disclosure.
Yet despite her full promenade
and her siren call to alert,
she remains unseen, unheard,
invisible…
The manual says on every fortnight
she slips in deep slumber and
dreams presence.
She has voice – she has form,
it is there, on the other side,
to a seasoned observer,
that a side of her
appears…
With so many points of reflection and meditations, she has a lot to reconcile for one day.
Daydream by © Tammera
Will she close her eyes on it all as if freedom has no more place than in her dreams? Or will her meditations bring her to that place of freedom she longs for most?
Emotional Vortex by dab
(I fight labels like the demon itself
If I don’t name you
you don’t exist
and I can’t be locked
in your eight
cornered box)
But I’m left
with this
Mess
Jumbled negativity
magnetic vortex
spilling
seething
sucking
I know
the only one able
to grant me freedom
is me-
and I don’t.
know why,
I wait.
how long can one
tolerate
this twisting thirsty
how does one effectively
assess
that which has its genesis
in one’s imagination
how does one locate
land marks
when vertigo is
the most frequent sensation…?
~
sometimes it’s
hard to carry around
this 200 pound heart
chained in concert
with my brain,
it entrains the capacity
for ten to the power of n
weightless joys
apex of ecstasy
and I lose my balance
tip …..
Fall
flood gates open,
gentle…
the pain of the world
invited, enters
my heart goes bowling ball
chained, I sink
it pulls me to the deep
and I sit, on the ocean floor
a while
while I dream
of atrocity
…and wait
for my mind
To be:
set free
This week’s features are about a journey toward freedom. There is a storm that rages in the heart of woman and it never sleeps. It is a reality that numbs as if it is a dream on auto-pilot repeat. It drums and it drums and it drums like the pitter-patter of spring rain while woman takes refuge within whatever shelter she can find or build to drown out the drumming. But she can’t hide here forever lest she lose herself altogether. She must break through these walls and set her soul free.
Enjoy the journey of dimensional awakening.
She opened her eyes in the realm of the dream too soon, or was it too late? The scent of deception burned her subconscious as she pushed past the nightmare into the unknown.
Uncharted by © Fiery Fire
Somewhere between longing and forgetting, she had to remember to find the courage to clear the slate.
Longing and Forgetting by © Mary Ann Reilly
Winter and the few remaining birds
squat on wires stretched
from pole to pole
alongside the coastline:
dark ink blotches
unmoving.
Dusk comes hard
in this borderland
between longing and forgetting
and we speed beyond
the sea-shack shanties,
worn signposts,
leaving behind
the coastline
and an odd remembrance
of what we cannot become.
Here between sky and sea
what we’ve known
is gradually erased.
The familiar becomes
fuzzy, distant
until what is bird
and what is sky
cannot be known.
The only certainty, you say,
is remix: caught as we are
on this awful road to becoming
like some damn mobius strip
destined to travel again and again
and I watch
as you turn your shoulder
into the next curve
so that your body
becomes the car,
becomes my very breath,
catching.
And in a spirit of courage, she must push through the inner storm.
Rain Drops by © Marlies Odehnal
Just as she must push through her inner turmoil.
Redemption by © Sally Omar
with bowed head
redemption is sought
sins of the past torment
that cannot be erased
can so many sins be forgiven
the putrid words
that split the heart of a loved one
the ten thousand falsehoods
that easily flowed from lips
with eye contact and assurance
all the time knowing the truth
the distasteful remarks
that made so many uncomfortable
the hate exhibited
toward anyone of a different ethnicity
different religion
or exhibiting different ideals
the cruelty shown
to the creatures of nature
the icy heart revealed
for those in need
the greed
money became the only god
the gluttony
food and drink
no limitations
while others went hungry
pray a little harder
life is coming to an end
but redemption
may not be yours
redemption
She must reclaim herself, even if it’s one piece at a time…
Seeking Self — Struggling to Come Back by © Cara Schingeck
Lest she’s washed away with the tears of yesterday’s dirty dishwater.
Heartbreak by © chitrali
Tear tracks down my cheek..
Just on one side of my face,
On one cheek.
The left:
Fill..
Slip.
Slide.
Drip.
.
.
Drip.
.
.
Drip.
.
.
Under my chin.
*
The right: clear eyed, dry, raw…
(It’s the one that spots the red traffic light turn green).
*
I give too many tears, too easily, to him…
They’re diamonds – (that much I do know now)
And he thinks they’re just feminine salty water.
*
Tear tracks down my cheek..
Just on one side of my face,
On one cheek,
The left.
Fill.
Slip.
Slide.
Drip…
Why just the one eye, the one cheek, I wonder?
Perhaps it is because that’s where
The bastard lives: my traitorous heart,
Now torn asunder.
(once again).
Reconnecting with the still, small voice of her soul just might prove to be the first step in becoming whole.
Care of the Soul by © Anthea Slade
Yet, doesn’t she realize she’s not alone, that she doesn’t have to face the giants on her own?
Seeing Is Believing by © AnniG
I breathe your heartache
spill your many unshed tears
I tend the invisible aches
repeatedly bubbling, rising up
erupting from the depths of your
existence
I face the inconceivable fears
persistently gnawing at your senses
I recognize the abysmal sadness
of sorrow living, growing, thriving
in the rich and cultivated soil of your
soul
I read the range of intense emotion
scribed between the unwritten pages
I unravel the intricate fabric of your life
sharing visions through silver strands
of mysterious bonds and joyful
spirits
Yes, I see
I see
you
For she is connected to a sisterhood deeply rooted into ancient soil.
Mother Nature by © Jenelle McKain
She needs only to look through to the other side where her reflection is waiting.
Invisible by Cynthia Lund Torroll
She peeks through the reeds -
camouflaged, coded for a
moment of pure disclosure.
Yet despite her full promenade
and her siren call to alert,
she remains unseen, unheard,
invisible…
The manual says on every fortnight
she slips in deep slumber and
dreams presence.
She has voice – she has form,
it is there, on the other side,
to a seasoned observer,
that a side of her
appears…
With so many points of reflection and meditations, she has a lot to reconcile for one day.
Daydream by © Tammera
Will she close her eyes on it all as if freedom has no more place than in her dreams? Or will her meditations bring her to that place of freedom she longs for most?
Emotional Vortex by dab
(I fight labels like the demon itself
If I don’t name you
you don’t exist
and I can’t be locked
in your eight
cornered box)
But I’m left
with this
Mess
Jumbled negativity
magnetic vortex
spilling
seething
sucking
I know
the only one able
to grant me freedom
is me-
and I don’t.
know why,
I wait.
how long can one
tolerate
this twisting thirsty
how does one effectively
assess
that which has its genesis
in one’s imagination
how does one locate
land marks
when vertigo is
the most frequent sensation…?
~
sometimes it’s
hard to carry around
this 200 pound heart
chained in concert
with my brain,
it entrains the capacity
for ten to the power of n
weightless joys
apex of ecstasy
and I lose my balance
tip …..
Fall
flood gates open,
gentle…
the pain of the world
invited, enters
my heart goes bowling ball
chained, I sink
it pulls me to the deep
and I sit, on the ocean floor
a while
while I dream
of atrocity
…and wait
for my mind
To be:
set free
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