we all are gypsies of a sort wandering traveling through this life other lives space and time here there and yon on roads less traveled - this is a written and visual journal of my own travels - imagined and/or real - come along with me - we'll dance among the stars under the sun and over the moon - share our stories around the campfire - come along -

this site is simply a streamofconsciousness rambling of words and images in which i find meaning and beauty - there is no organized order of thought or format -
poetry painting and writing on love and life and things thereof from the heart and through the eyes of a louisiana gypsy spirit travelin' roads less traveled...enjoy -

THE GYPSYWOMAN WORLD

My Photo
A...WOMAN IN MOTION WITH HAIR AS DARK AS NIGHT HER EYES WERE LIKE THAT OF A CAT IN THE DARK... SHE WAS A GYPSYWOMAN... she danced round and round... from the fire her face was all aglow... she was dancing... dancing... waiting for the RISING SUN... loving caring relationships are like THE RISING SUN...we are nourished by their warmth...we are energized by their strength...we grow in their light...we find shelter and solace there...they are our sanctuary... born in the sign of the sun, i am a true LEO-love the sun and its hot orange red fire-passionate in and about everything i do-i believe in instant chemistry charisma love/lust at first sight-in the magic of the eyes and the beauty of the soul-in the instant recognition familiarity in meeting someone from a past life and in the knowledge that we might meet in a future life-i believe that we are each ageless and flawless-i believe in the beauty of the moment-the whisper of yesterday-the hope of tomorrow-the power of forgiveness for even ourselves-the absolute and total beauty of love---[credit to brian hyland and curtis mayfield]

to dance with life

to dance with life
come dance with me...

Thursday, October 31, 2013

the cosmic rite...


it was an ancient dream
borne in dark primal screams
of bones wrapped tight
in purest white
a thousand moons ago
last night
and the elders sat
in long black braids
neatly wrapped in wisdom’s ways
silent tongues speak
teaching me
the messenger comes
walls of snow
times four
then he walked tall
through the door
white on white on red
he was the one
the wise ones said
who came to me
to set me free
to take me home
no more my soul
to roam
and in his sight
i saw the light
it was an ancient dream
borne in dark primal screams
as spirits took flight
in cosmic rite
a thousand moons ago
last night
.
.
.

Monday, October 28, 2013

the bleeding...



i have lost my voice
in lands long gone
tongue of red
skin of white
o beloved deer
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my hearing
in sounds of death
ears of stone
cast to the winds
o beloved bison
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my sight
in warriors slain
eyes of love
turned to fright

o beloved child
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my touch
in muskets drawn
hands of gore
take their toll
o beloved land
forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

i have lost my soul
in skin of white
bleeds red
through the black night
o beloved tribe

forgive me my sins
my skin bleeds white
my heart beats red

my
heart
bleeds

red

.
.
.

Saturday, October 19, 2013

cries of the jungle...


clandestine love in the night

heated whispers brush my face
you become me in black and white
and love becomes more in this dark dark place
as flames are lit in this sacred rite


clandestine love in the night
 

echoes of lust sear our fate
as voices beseech a lascivious wait
words plant deep in fertile flesh
while dappled shadows do us enmesh

clandestine love in the night


reality blurs in shades of grey
o’ glorious love i do thee pray
as silent breaths hush the chanting choir
grey becomes red in the midnight fire

clandestine love in the night
elephants roar as gazelles take flight
all becomes quiet in the hot jungle night
and dreams become our singular plight

clandestine love till the mornin’ light

.
.
.
.
.

Friday, October 4, 2013

dancers of the lavender...

we dance into
the lavender light
as the night moves
between our fevered hips
and cries of the jungle
weave our dream

o dancers
of the lavender night
hold close the stars
upon your burning breasts
as the moon swims
between your fevered lips
and cries of the jungle
fly you free

and the night moves
and the jungle cries
and the moon swims
and the jungle flies

you

into
the lavender night

o dancers
of the lavender light

dance
dancers
dance

~

Friday, September 27, 2013

red sun setting...

it was the time
of white stars shining
the spring of the deep forest dent
when sadness settled in
like the gods' seven signs
and the screaming storms
filled the canyons tall
                                                      and the deer ran wild
                                                      and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of the red sun setting
the summer of all hell bent
when sorrow sprang up
through the orange trumpet vine
and the bleeding clouds
filled the rivers red
                                                      and the deer ran wild
                                                      and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of red leaves falling
the autumn of anguish
when agony rolled in
like a cancer’s sick slime
and the blistering hail
filled the white devils’ pail
                                                     and the deer ran wild
                                                     and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
of the pale moon rising
the winter of discontent
when grief reigned down
on the green mountain pine
and the howling winds
filled the barren skies
                                                   and the deer ran wild
                                                   and the buffalo roamed
it was the time
the time of                                 white stars shining
                                                   pale moon rising
                                                   red leaves falling
                                                   red sun setting
it was the time
the time when                           white on red maliciously tread
                                                  red on red no longer bred
                                                  red and red no longer red
and the
red son met                               the spring of the deep forest dent
                                                  the summer all hell bent
                                                  the autumn of anguish
                                                  the winter of discontent

and the red sun set

it was the time
the red sun set                         and the deer no longer ran wild
                                                 and the buffalo roamed no more
it was the time
of the red son
                                                 no more
and the red sun
set

.