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...

Saturday, July 31, 2010

spread your wings...

spread your wings
unfold and open wide
fly me o’er that great divide
to the place where angels sing

spread your wings
do not thy spirit hide
fly me where the gods reside
to the place where passion clings

spread your wings
let my soul with thee abide
fly me to that crimson tide
to the place where love’s supreme

Thursday, July 29, 2010

to moonbeams over glasgow...


blackest black night
penetrated by
sounds of steel spiraling
through the flesh
of old wounds never healed
under the cover of full metal jackets
years of differences fester still
shades of hatred begetting
bloody canvasses of life in glasgow
velocity and energy and density
no longer marking the weather
now marking the storm of
death on wing
travel path and target
spelling bloody ballistics
random projectiles
of hate in flight
razors of yesteryear
slicing through layers of dysphoria
knives brandished with deadly intent
by children wandering the streets
of chaos and turmoil
their spirits no longer theirs
buried already in the graveyard
of discontent
bloodstains color the hard cracked
surface of their hearts
men in black leather jackets
grim reapers of silent violence
women and children fearful
of creaking floors and opening doors
longing yearning for
the warm sunlight
of what should be
seeking solace and safety
behind locks and chains
husbands keeping watch
with metal filled pillows
giving way to sleepless nights
of signs and sounds
waiting for dawn
waiting for day
for another way
just one more day
praying for the other way
trying to make another way
the way of peace and love
the way of love and peace
with the warmth of
brother loving brother
melting the heartless
frigid winter of
despair and desperation
painting in vibrant
life-sustaining sunshine
the canvasses of
life in glasgow
where children frolick
on the playgrounds 
of a better life
and mothers sleep
through the night
with their babes
cradled in the soft
arms of peace

and husbands and fathers

awake from sweet dreams
of serenity and stillness
the only sounds those
of golden moonbeams
falling gently over
life in glasgow

Monday, July 26, 2010

the gypsy weeps...

her eyes in midnight velvet
black jet tamed by no man yet

soft breasts of alabaster silk
with skin like soft creamy milk

her hair spread like raven wings
when she speaks the gods do sing

lips all pouty and shimmering wet
she lives and loves without regret

spinning webs in ribbons of light
laid in shadows of darkest night
                  
secrets hid in red red heart
yearning for a love not lived apart

wish she did with all her might
but life alone is her sad plight

and so it is in the forest deep
the heavens sleep

as
the gypsy weeps

Sunday, July 25, 2010

go forward with courage...


When you are in doubt, be still, and wait;
when doubt no longer exists for you, then go forward with courage.
So long as mists envelop you, be still;
be still until the sunlight pours through and dispels the mists
-- as it surely will.
 

Then act with courage...

Friday, July 23, 2010

to the beloveds who are far away...


days of absence
sad and dreary
clothed in sorrow's
dark array
days of absence
i am weary
...he i love
is
far
away

Thursday, July 22, 2010

how can you?

 How can you buy or sell the sky,  
the warmth of the land? 
The idea is strange to us. 
If we do not own the 
freshness of the air and the 
sparkle of the water, 
how can you buy them? 

Every part of the earth is sacred to my people.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

the lips of the gypsy...


and where were they now
those lips
her lips
lips that spoke
only love
only truth
lips that held his heart
promised him tomorrow
tasted his sorrow
fondled his spirit
her lips
that had disappeared
vanished
into the
dark
abyss
of
good-bye

where were they now
those lips

the lips
of
the
gypsy

Monday, July 19, 2010

cry me...


cry me to the moon
sing me to love’s tune

open wide the sky
feel my spirit fly

never say good-bye

the concurrence...














All things 
appear and disappear 
because of the concurrence 
of causes and conditions. 
Nothing ever exists entirely alone; 
everything is in relation to everything else.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

becoming...


when i let go
of who i am
i become
what i 
might be

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

the end is the beginning...


and the end of all our exploring will be to
arrive where we started and 
know the place for the first time

Sunday, July 11, 2010

the unveiling...























my life closed twice before its close
it yet remains to see
if immortality unveil
a third to me...

Saturday, July 10, 2010

warriors of the rainbow...


when the earth is sick
the animals will begin to disappear -
when that happens
the warriors of the rainbow
will come
to
save
them

- MU -

Thursday, July 8, 2010

from the heights of macchi picchu...




Arise to birth with me, my brother.
Give me your hand out of the depths
sown by your sorrows.
You will not return from these stone fastnesses.
You will not emerge from subterranean time.
Your rasping voice will not come back,
nor your pierced eyes rise from their sockets.

Look at me from the depths of the earth,
tiller of fields, weaver, reticent shepherd,
groom of totemic guanacos,
mason high on your treacherous scaffolding,
iceman of Andean tears,
jeweler with crushed fingers,
farmer anxious among his seedlings,
potter wasted among his clays--
bring to the cup of this new life
your ancient buried sorrows.
Show me your blood and your furrow;
say to me: here I was scourged
because a gem was dull or because the earth
failed to give up in time its tithe of corn or stone.
Point out to me the rock on which you stumbled,
the wood they used to crucify your body.
Strike the old flints
to kindle ancient lamps, light up the whips
glued to your wounds throughout the centuries
and light the axes gleaming with your blood.

I come to speak for your dead mouths.

Throughout the earth
let dead lips congregate,
out of the depths spin this long night to me
as if I rode at anchor here with you.

And tell me everything, tell chain by chain,
and link by link, and step by step;
sharpen the knives you kept hidden away,
thrust them into my breast, into my hands,
like a torrent of sunbursts,
an Amazon of buried jaguars,
and leave me cry: hours, days and years,
blind ages, stellar centuries.

And give me silence, give me water, hope.

Give me the struggle, the iron, the volcanoes.

Let bodies cling like magnets to my body.

Come quickly to my veins and to my mouth.

Speak through my speech, and through my blood.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

to know of wonder and humility...


















It is a wholesome and necessary thing 
for us to turn again to the earth 
and in the contemplation 
of her beauties to know 
of wonder and humility


-MU-

Thursday, July 1, 2010

if not us, then who?


Our loyalties are to the species and the planet, 
we speak for
Earth.

- MU -