Springtime, Rooted & Grounded ~ Mothers & Such

This afternoon on the phone:

Mom- "I think I figured out what your problem is"

Me- "I have PROBLEMS?!? Oh no, I'm so bummed, I didn't know I had problems!"

Mom: "Well, I was reading about ADD and antibiotics and you had so many as a child with your ear problems"

Me- "ohhhh, you mean the lack of attention span thing, problem, well, no I figure it's not a problem to me, just the people who deal with me".

Dad (on he other line)- Like your Parents".

Gotta luv em!



My Mother’s Daughter
or In Honor of My Mother (gotta get that Moose & Squirell in there hey?)

With absence of particular strengths, weaknesses,

Outpourings . . .& needs-

the ups, downs, all overs of one, My Mother-

Were I not my Mother’s Daughter, what person might I be?

Ukulele strumming  I Dream of Lilac Time,  Mother singing

Blooming of the Lilac bush, takes me back ~

The name she gave me, worthy of that song.

Spinning, spinning, going round, fast, fast as I can.

Lost again, still, but not anymore, just wandering~

“Go find your Sister” My Mother’s voice to my Brother.

This Mother who brought me down from the clouds

Would I be found if not? This mind mixes that wonder~

There’s a wavy reflection in a nearby pond,

That reflection owning another Mothers ring, not mine.

May as well dance, spin barefoot in the dandelions-

baking soda on the yellow jacket sting… of time.

Life’s penuriously harsh ways, bring forth essences~

could endurance on my part escape bewilderment~

if another’s Mother was mine & no other?

What would be the surroundings of my scent?

All this said, “nuff said” (Sam Elliot) & no more.

Would I wonder, should I ponder,

what if My Mother was yours, and yours mine?

Of ones own Mother, what heart could be fonder?

~J~moonmango                       4/24/12

4 generations! Time for a new pic.!

You Too Dear Daughter

You too Dear Daughter, child of a child

Mother now yourself

What would your mold look like

If thou Mother were not me?

Slight reflection of My Mother

Essence of My Grandmother there

The impact of My Mothering quite abstract

Self assured beauty, not my refection…

           in the dishwater

Had not you I, instructing refusal of any portion

If not surely yours to eat

Then~ showing you why, by example… 

Eating what wasn’t mine- to swallow

Had you some other person’s Mother, not this one

No Grandmother threatening the DJ,

Just singing the lullaby of her own life, not mine

What person might you be Dear Daughter?

~J~moonmango                              4/25/12

Greenie Neenie's Eco Friendly Cleaning!

How my garden grows

"You Learn"

I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone
I recommend walking around naked in your living room
Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)
Wait until the dust settles

You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn

I recommend biting off more then you can chew to anyone
I certainly do
I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time
Feel free
Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)
You wait and see when the smoke clears

You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn

Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do)
Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually anyway)
The fire trucks are coming up around the bend

You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn

You grieve you learn
You choke you learn
You laugh you learn
You choose you learn
You pray you learn
You ask you learn
You live you learn

Drummers vapor Fire Dancers & Drummers

     

Poppy in the Garlic

A friend asked me if this pic of the poppy in the garlic is a metaphor of my life! Ha!

Before

After (coming soon, orange in the bathroom!)

                                                                                            

                                                                                                                                                        

Just Desserts

If you get stressed and turn it backwards, flipping it into joy

If all that comes before you that causes you to fret

Can be turned onto a plate with cream

Would stress then feed you Dear… in the form of Just Desserts?

~J~moonmango                           4/30/2012

http://youtu.be/HgNJ9l5Z2YY

weed eater started right up!

Goodbye Maurice Sendak. The wild things live on...

Jerseydale redneck truck deco

Loada Crap

If someone feeds you a load of crap, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Kind of like the saying “when life give you lemons, make lemonade”.  When life feeds you crap, make manure & grow stuff!  Season it well and sift out the big chunks!

~J~moonmango                                        3/10/12    8:45pm.

        

My Babies turned a year older!

Aaron 29, 

Vanessa 34!             

Mousie, Mousie Grey & Sweet (or Ode to Mousie)

Mousie Mousie grey and sweet, how precious are your tiny feet

Kitty tossed you like a rag, must have been a real big drag

Now you lay upon the rug as though you were a nasty bug

Kitty waits for you to move, to torture you with nowt to prove

smoke and ash take you higher, after tossing your body into the fire

~Moonmango~        3/20/12

                 

 The V in the Y

At the V in the crossroads, behind me the I,
on my knees... rage & fury, shaking my fists at the sky.
Dragging my heart like a lead ball, lightening & thunder
this leg of the journey wasn't my idea.

Staying here at the crossroads brings death, decay,
the sharpness of the V blinds me with white.
The void perhaps will cut the light, I don't know.
The void waits, I can't go now, with my heart shut down

The weight like the world, pulling me back,
every color of the rainbow crashing into my soul
The lilacs take me home, but I'm lost there too.
Going back will lay me down, down like a worn rug

I'd stick out my thumb, go a different path, no cars are coming.
On my knees here, can't sleep, can't eat,
reluctant to continue, this journey alone.
Left at the V, the I was so sweet

Shaking my fists at the wind, hungry with need.
I'd hang on, but Papas laughing and I'm alone.
It's only a storm that was once in his eyes,
Me & Papa facing the V at the Y, me alone, leaving the I

I'd punch a wall, throw another chair, have a tantrum~
Who the hell cares. I remember now...I know this place.
Now I see, I can't stay here at the crossroads, the V in the Y.
The ruler smacks my hand & breaks, the foot kicks my heart.

Words like a tail o 9 lashing my soul, this time, this time...
I'll step forward, but not today.
If the ladies in the clouds ask me to I'll scream.
On my knees here, it's raining now, wind whipping.

A voice whispers "wake up" doesn't it know that I did…

I woke up this morning, a sweet voice called to me, 
breaking this heart, that voice calling to me.
Just a voice today, no soul to accompany
Wakes me up, just the same

Losing myself, finding me again, in the storm of his eyes
I could see them from here, but the'r hidden from me now
I'll scrape my reflection off the mirrors I clean.
It's Just a thought, a way, a get around
Summers closing in, the music begins.
I'll dance my way through the V over the mountains

I'll lay in the flowers along Soda Creek again,
lots to do now, here at the V, the V in the Y.
I'll think about it tomorrow...fiddle dee dee.
A rocking chair, four walls, one with a hole.

Oh for want of a frying pan and some room to throw,

a horse to ride hard, ride fast, put away wet.
The mouse runs past my bare feet, scared, alone.
The cat didn't ask before bringing her in if she had a home

~J~moonmango                 4/22/2012

 

Reefer Madness or Figment of My Imagination 
 (oh, no, Moose & Squirrel again)

Full moon rising, Creedance comes to mind

What was that? There’s a bathroom on the right?

Ski bums tramping, juke box blasting, wee one wondering

Is it real, could it be? A figment perhaps ~ of the clouds bursting

Reefer rumbling, distant grumbling, hOduNnks in the room!

Duck & run, throw tomatoes, it’s just a figment anyway,

Moonlight madness, reefer badness, tomatoes splattered…

Under cover everyone, this ones lost it --& on the run!

Better fly it to that big ol’ moon…

~J~moonmango          

   5/4/12      Ro’ting  (not to be confused with rotting) inspired.

Ferry's Hites Cove! Lynn & Richard Ferry

Fairy Lanterns Hites Cove

A couple years ago:

TICKS

By Jeannine André

Ticks can hop, ticks can jump, ticks can bite you on the rump

Wade through the brush
 dare, but I just found one in my hair!!!

Yes, I did find it necessary to write all that. It is Dr. Seuss's birthday tomorrow, and I really did find a big fat yucky tick in my hairline!!!!

4/1/2010            ~J~moonmango

 Hites Cove Crossroads of Chem trails

Vita Mixer Blues   

Oh how I miss you, what shall I do?

Basil season approaching, I am so blue

Pesto no more can be blended by you

Oh dear Vita Miixer, what shall I do?

No grain shall I grind, to make my own bread

Without you oh Dear, I fear I am dead.

Daily I’ve used you taking for granted

All that you offer, now I say “dammit”

If a mound of hummus be all that I need

To show what you meant to me

I’d have need not  to plead

But needy I am for more spread made with seed

Oh how I miss you, what shall I do?

My sweet grinding thing, who ground all my food

I’ll bury you Dear in the ground I suppose

I’ll carry on then my heart with repose.
 

~J~moonmango (a very sad)    5/4/12

Full Moon Women's Circle in Melinda's Yurt...AWESOME!

Mariposa African Drum Ensemble & Manna Fire Dancers were amazing!

 

Seeking The Void Springtime Awaits

 Spring Yoga Retreat was powerful and healing. Women came with open hearts...songs...love and more. Never have I experienced such immediate acceptance among strangers. We knew each other already, in the wind, in our sisterhood and we knew it. no one had to tell us. We just knew it.

Enter...The Cave, rebirth, connection, songs and growth (cold, sore hineys for us oldsters!)

Spirit Of The Wind 

Spirit of the wind carry me.
Spirit of the wind carry me home.
Spirit of the wind carry me home to myself.

Spirit of the Earth, help me with my birth.
Spirit of the sea, set my soul free.
Spirit of the wind, carry me home to myself...
 

This post may be interesting only to those who are drawn. My babblings pour forth. Warnings to wear mind protective gear, just assumed. No wavers to sign. Go forth at your own risk, take nothing literally and be careful, as you may encounter yourself along the way if you choose to sally forth (Utah Phillips talk).    

  ~THE MANAGEMENT~

Healers...Powerful ritual, a blessing to be near

Raven

Shape shifting trickster, Healing fore bearer of death. Raven, feathers shiny, iridescent with tinges of indigo, shades of mauve and hints of twilight when the sunlight moves it’s rays just so along your back.

King of the corvus family, wise one, oh Raven, pecking at the door. What have you to say you stoic one fervently cawing on the porch with your mate in waiting on an oak branch not far from your destruction?

What message have you to pass on this day, to an open heart that needs to hear? The heart was closed to your gift, but unfolds now like a crumpled poem on paper mistaken for rubbish and pulled out before being tossed into the fire. Speak clearly now and spare the screen.

Raven so black, put aside your foolish tricks, your ways of evil, and your magic. Bring forth your wisdom, oh healing one and share today to a heart in need. With great care you are sought, only because you came, so bring forth oh Raven with your message today. Bring forth…oh Raven…with your message today~ then oh Raven, please fly away…

~J~moonmango          Linda Long inspired…The "Long" Journey …..

                                    3/9/12 

LISTEN TO THE WORDS, then, with all abandon, wear it out like a three year old would do, then JUMP!

Lost In My Journey

Trying to walk, forced to fly, Trees below, surrounded by sky

                                            Souring downward amongst blobs and unidentifiable shapes

                    surrounded by golden warriors,

Bows shoot golden flaming arrows into the sky

                                 Sparkling golden sky surrounds the landscape

          A girl reaching for my hand, slips from my clasp

                                                                                           Her blue eyes tell me I’m loosing myself

                                               Lost, like Alice down the rabbit hole

                    Lost in my journey, falling from my own grasp

                                                             The drums beat, a voice directs, “look for your guide, you’ll know it”

    Misshapen blobs of color and light~ No Owl in sight

                                 A single white moccasin leads to brown unidentifiable something

                 Not a bear, not a human, an impalpable mass

                                                             An opening chest beating a volcanic heart, spewing fire and ash

               Darkness overtakes, now I’m gone. Gone to the middle world without myself

Lost in my journey, with Bookmiss for my guide.

                                                                                  Wonder what I did there, while my body stayed behind?

            Drums beating, calling me home. I try to go down as I’m already up

                                    Soaring upwards again, can’t go down, higher and higher above solid ground

                                                                               Sky so blue with sparkles of gold, homeward I fly, landing somewhere up high.

Quivering, not like the angry volcano of October, but an essence of such from a whisper of another place.

Bookmiss Nootka Island Friendly Cove

                ~J~moonmango      

   

Oh Mother, hear us calling

we your children seek healing

Oh Mother hear us calling...

                                                                                           4/18/2012

Gotcha!

       

Kitchen Goddess

Jumping?

                   

  When I get through this leg of the journey, My Backyard will 

once again don visions of nature...still babblings I'm afraid!

Every so often, you have to stop. Stop it all to get a foot hold.

Carrying on without getting a foothold could be dangerous.

Clamp on to something, look carefully, and either get a grip, or 

just jump!

 Into The Void…Journey Home ~ To Myself

                                     There’s no blacker black than Raven’s back

           My Sisters prodder, not here for me, stopping anyway

                                  “you too, listen here,  pay attention here I say”

            Lost in a black place, no memory to boot, not even Owl to give a hoot

                                   Bookmiss isn’t a comfort, repulsive indeed, Leaving me to wonder, doubt… need

             Mauvey light, darkness calling. “No way” I say, I’m fearful of falling

                                    Shapes & figures, generations to come, call, beckon, “we are one”

                                              No choice now, I must choose, for them & myself, to go forth, to move

                                                            Black hole opens, closes again, wider each time, again, again

                                            A poem written in, High School, remembering…”As Darkness overtakes me”

                                 Memory gone, it’s been too long…

                     The heart beat quickens, then wanes, slowing and stopping, quickening again

Gotta hurry, time’s running out, rushing, can’t, too much doubt

Thump, thump, thump, thu, thump… journey’s over, Have to go back, thum, thu, thump

                                                        Journey’s over, have to go back…

Breathing deeply, gone again. Never even knew it. halfway into a sentence, back

Back from black, Raven’s back, blacker than black

                                      The void took me, no memory at all. Took me, a fall.   

“and daylight falls behind” memory coming…

Into the void I must go, I know this now.

                    ………Leave daylight behind,  I know this now.

Somehow in High school, I knew it then

                                                                     ~Went forth out ward, coming back in again.

Absence of light, blacker than Raven… the void

Leave daylight behind, meet myself in the void

Journey home into the void, the void #   leave the light, go to the void

home to myself, home to the void, Darkness overtakes me and daylight falls behind

I knew it then, went forth outward, coming back in again

Journeying home, into the void… Home to Meet myself…

~J~moonmango                                                                     4/18/2012

If I survive the journey, I'll dance naked in the woods!

Lost half my post somehow, so patching it up from here. Bummer. Pictures, muses from the offset side, all...poof! Into the void! Maybe I'll find them there.

Seeking Spring

It matters why I'm not embracing Spring this year. Matters because I'm at the crossroads, the void calling, like Jesus has to me before. Becoming audible like that, but just a pounding whisper so far. Pounding like the beat of a heart.

Wildflowers~ wait…why can’t I go?

The Wild flower is ~me~ in the garden

The void sets me free

Fire and ash

SLOW MEN AT WORK

WOMEN FROLICKING

WILDE IN NATURE

Men live in the void,

Women must embrace…or depend,

depend on that which is tangible

Fails to bring peace, strength & passion

Wait for this wood nymph

If the fires too hot, left unattended

The milk scalds, boils over

“you’ll lose your dinner, gotta keep it to a simmer”

Wait for this wood nymph< this time Spring

Wait…the void will bring me ~

Light to dark, emerge again to light

Absence of Fall & Winter& Spring

Can’t exist, Winters death= beginning or middle?

Exhausting into Summer ~~~begin again

Leave this child to jump

Black the Raven knows, says “go back to be born into life”

The wildflowers wait,,,paused,,,~this one~ goes

Things that are missing..didn’t write the colors today~Shapes, light, reflections, the marmot in the hole.

~J~moonmango                                  4/18/2012

Spank your dragon...

The Dream Weaver and The Poet                    2                   1/7/2012

(to go with the Dream Weaves, the short version, still too long...)

On a blue moon night, a Weaver wove a Dream and a Poet wrote a Poem.

The dream was woven by hook with silk of gold, trailing with threads of silver, draped upon shoulders broad… soft as a finely finished shelf of Madrone, a storm threaded in with glints of colored glass to catch the light, letting it in, letting it out and reflecting the dream into a soul.

The poem was written with longing and passion, touches of blue sky, mosses, lichen and earth were used as ink and the pages were the clouds from which she fell. Tears of fairies and essence of mango were written into the poem and each page flowed with a longing for the poems dream.   

The Weaver didn’t know why her eyes wouldn’t leave the Poet alone, but her lips followed. “Dance with me?” said the Poet. “Lay with me?” said the Weaver and she took him home to her bed of moss and lay his head on her pillows of woven shooting stars . The Weaver and The Poet shared some dreams, their hearts met each other, but still they didn’t know each other. The moon was full of light and touched them both deeply. The Weaver never forgot Her Poet still not knowing who he was, and the Poet kept his Weaver in the back of his soul and a breath of her in his heart.

The next time their hearts spoke, the Dream glistened like the moon herself and it’s storm passed through the valleys of the weavers heart in such a way that they began to know each other, but their dreams disappeared.  “Give me back my dreams, I want my dreams back” said the Poet to the Weaver.

Captivator Of Dream

Anticipating sharing the morning light together

                dreaming again. stealer of my dreams

Anticipating sharing the morning light together

                waking up in heaven

                after giving all my dreams back

The Weaver responded,

“You'll have your dreams back, my Sweetness and Light. You'll have yours and I'll have mine. I'll sit on the bottom tip of the crescent moon with my hook and silk yarn made from recycled sari's. I will hook your dreams for you out of the most brilliant colors, mesmerizing myself with the changes in brightness and texture, changes in tones as the fiber passes through my fingers weaving dreams of knots and chains to catch your hopes and grab out your fears. As I complete each dream, I will toss it to the stars, which will open the weave and drape it softly over your slumbering heart. You are my dream, and I am yours. When our dreams become real, then our dreams will return.”  

Poet took the Weaver to his house along the river. He fed her fry bread and mango and they made each others dreams come true.

In someone else’s dream, at the crossroads on bended knee, the poet asked the weaver “marry me?” In someone else’s dream, at the crossroads she did. In someone else’s dream, she called him husband, her Poet, and he called her “Wife”, his Weaver. The Poet took the Weaver to his house along the river. He fed her fry bread and mango and they made each other’s dreams come true.

The Weaver wove The Poet 3 children of silver and mauve with flecks of gold. Their beauty was surreal and was too unimaginable, not tangible enough for this world. They took the children to the sea on a blue moon night, and one by one the children swam away, happy to be returning to their home, their silver backs glinting in the moonlight. The mermaids and the Silkies swam from their places under the waves to rejoice and greet their cousins.

In someone else’s dream, The Weaver still calls The Poet “Husband” and The Poet calls the  Weaver “Wife”. In someone else’s dream, not his, and not mine.

~J~moonmango   4/?/2012

Wilderness in My Own Head

I can't seem to help being myself. Thoughts occurring with no regard, or respect for the decisions I have made continue no matter what I do in life, how sure I feel, thoughts occurring while pulling some weeds, taking a walk, making play dough and such. No respect whatsoever. I feel taken for granted by the breath and depth of wilderness in my own head.

Cosmic Train Wreck;

Cosmic:

1. Of or relating to the universe or cosmos, esp. as distinct from the earth.
2. Inconceivably vast.

Train Wreck:
A collision between two or more trains heading towards each other on the same track

~J~moonmango~                                                                      3/23/12

Peace To Holly...I envy the wind...

Baby’s rocker 

Pounding rain, whipping winds, flying debri overhead.

Huddled in a ball seems safe enough, no way to escape the love

Stand up, shout at the wind, open wide, let it all in,

Baby’s rocker slammed to the wall, broken to bits for the love of it all

Throw it to the wind, crash it to the rocks, raise your fists and scream

The storm takes it all, all for the sake of love.

Standing at the edge arms open wide to the storm, might just blow right off

No one said there wouldn’t be pain. Flying debri, sand in your eyes

Open it up, scream and cry, slam baby’s rocker against the wall

 Some glue and paint can’t hide the scars of baby’s rocker hitting the wall

Brown to white, to cheery green, left too soon in the dew

Run head on into the wind, paint running, rocker arm split, face the storm

Baby’s rocker, can’t be fixed.

~J~moonmango         4/20/2012