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, December 31, 2011

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

TO THE REAL NATIVES OF THIS LAND...a time of giving thanks...

for 
the kindnesses and generosities
shown by you
i give thanks
for
your wisdom and teachings
i give thanks 
for
the sacrifices and losses
suffered by you
i beg forgiveness
.
.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

rough pages...

weathered words
speak dark the ages

 soft hands dredge
o’er love’s rough pages

  
barbed wire bound
between torn covers

guarding secrets
of her lover's

as seams of their
dark ancient dreams

rip wide to loose
the tattered schemes

and hearts bleed out
in rushing streams

captive now in rusted cages
lost souls scream in silent rages
wasted lives speak dark the ages
.
.
.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

rusty nails...

like rusty nails
gouged into wooden pails
bleedin’ out in crimson streams
dreams decayed laid to rest
in windblown nests






wanderin’ the wastelands
of times erased by desert sands
ain’t nothin’ never for free
hope now a tarnished memory
walkin’ those lonesome streets
of my heart’s ghost town
lost love now satan bound
empty but for the
tumblin’ tumbleweeds
the devil’s seeds
silent but for the ragin’ screams
of my dyin’ dreams


 like rusty nails
.
.
.


Thursday, November 10, 2011

the jagged terrain...


 
he comes from a place far away
a place where night is day
and day brings no light
like a devil's dark blight
where love’s gone astray
and can't find its way
a place where barren is the land
like pearls of a broken strand
and cross the mountains deep
windswept tears sweep
the jagged terrain
like a ragin’ train

yes, he comes
from a place
far away

 
he comes
from
my
heart

he
comes
to
me

he
comes
for
me
.
.
.

Monday, November 7, 2011

tarnished skies...




tarnished skies
and languished lives
line the shelves of
forgotten dreams
and dastardly schemes
grinding down each
tiny tear of hope           
leaving only love’s
raw reflection
of gnawed bone
the skeleton of what was
baring its bleached heart
gleaming now in the light
of the moon

as i sleep

.
.
.

Friday, November 4, 2011

and all is done...

autumn comes
and all is done
lifeless leaves loose their grip
falling now for that final trip
swept to the shore by whispers of dreams
float away in swirls blue and green
soft subtle shadows rush to the night
calling your name in love's lost light
and so many memories of you
what am i to do
autumn comes
and all is done
.
.
.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

the shadow bird...



the shadow bird flies

through moonlit skies 

casting softly his spell

on those burning in hell 


can he not forgive 

those souls who do live 

one life at a time 

regardless their crime

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

the voices...

 
i hear the voices in my head
never listening to what they’ve said

for while they ring of truth and right
they leave me cold in the night

to be held close in love and light
is all I want with all my might

that part of me that seeks to reason
i leave to ponder in life's seasons

i choose instead my heart’s own sounds
as with their warmth they me surround

and so my heart rules ‘oer my head
i’ll live by love when all is said
 
i'll live by love
.
.
.

Monday, October 24, 2011

but now...

could you not see what i could see
each time we met in secrecy
could you not feel the children's fears
each time we held each other dear
'tis not your fault
i entered knowingly into our vault
i entered willingly i cannot me exalt
but when i knew
t'would not be you
to say no more
it was i
who shut the door
forever more
what else
was i to do
 
but
i miss you
.
.
.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

the keep...

the blinding edge of reality
suffers not the me of me
when darkness wraps my heart in love's eternity
and ravens black in forests deep
bemuse themselves in sorrow's keep
.
.
.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

the speculum...

she gazed into the hand held mirror
but herself no longer could she see
she drew nearer and nearer
and still herself she could not perceive

for there, there in the silver speculum
deep inside her outreached palm was an image
so chilling she almost succumbed
staring back at her from this metal cage

piercing her heart from another time another place
exposing love long since cast aside
in the dainty fingers of her past she held his face
the face of all held holy still and her thoughts collide

into the knowledge that she could no more part
with the vision of this, the reflection of her fate
than could she divest herself of her beating heart
breaking as it was for her beloved soul mate

.
.
.

Monday, October 17, 2011

the crows fly...


the crows fly overhead
dropping dreams upon the dead
crying out to those who pled
do not your feathers shed
for soon to moon you’ll be wed
and in her arms will you bed
with her stars your love is bred
 






there will be the holy thread
all wound up in shades of red
tracking those whose hearts have fled
leaving circles where they bled
drawn in death’s cold black lead
do not think you’ve misread
listen now to what’s been said

the crows fly overhead
dropping dreams upon the dead

where will you be led?

Saturday, October 15, 2011

the rolling seas...



in you
my heart sets sail
  with midnight veil 
and holy grail

   into the dark of night
    the tempest flight
    in virgin white
 
  our chart
the distant shore
the magic lore
love evermore

our lives
the waves we ride
poseidon at our side
skies open wide

you are
my rolling seas
and
i
your
wild
banshee
.
.
.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

wishin' and wonderin'...

wish night could be
more time left
just for me
but time is measured
in loveless theft

wish i could remember words
letters of thought just before sleep
but they fly away on the wings of birds
leavin’ me empty and nothing to keep

seems as if
those are always the ones
thoughts most wanted
thoughts most wise
words most prized
when day is done
for those i search
but i cannot rise
sad there's no notepad
for my mind
sneak back onto land
and into dreams
where all is known
and many kinds
all held safe
in golden moonbeams

readin’ my words
of wants last written
wishin’ i knew with what
i am smitten
 
 dangerous readin'
of dangerous thoughts
wishin’ i knew if all for naught
thoughts showin’ me as i wanna be
wishin’ i knew what really is key
danger in placin’ too much weight
wonderin’ if it’s only his foolish bait
such words such thoughts such dreams
wonderin’ if anyone hears my screams
.
.
.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

the dragon eye...










the dragon eye
floating high
floating free
holding me
in the deep dark night sky
do not its power we belie
rising
in its guided time
pure perfection
at its prime
casting life’s diamond slivers
upon the black waters quiver
spirit probe
the golden globe
the blessed ball
does surely all enthrall
floating free
holding me
holding thee
floating high
the dragon eye

Sunday, October 9, 2011

the holy twine...

strings
of
sunshine
like
holy
twine
streamin’
down
wrappin’
my
heart
round
and
round
nev’a
leavin’
it
all
unwound
but will it be enough to cleanse
all them horrible divil’s sins
an' let me begin ag’in
gi’mme one more chance
to dance

the
dance
.
.
.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

love unlived...

you penetrate my dreams
permeate my silent screams
and glide into the ancient streams
                    
where love holds always your invite
and darkness holds its secrets tight
but like the wind regrets take flight

what has happened to my sight
did vision die without the light
and leave me now to this sad plight
nothing is as it seems
nothing left to redeem

when will it ever end
when will it ever end

never
he whispers
never
ever
.
.
.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

these rags...


let me shed
these threadbare rags
the clothes of convention
wardrobe of society      
ecclesiastical attire
the dirty laundry of
women like me
of women
of me
of ME

these garments
that encumber me so
that stifle and stigmatize
that suffocate my soul
suffer me so
suffer my heart
rip them from my body
strip them away from the meat of my bones
tear them from my pure white flesh
the touch of them igniting burning branding
the texture of my thoughts

then throw them back
from whence they came
from whence they were sent
into the cesspools
of their own making
they have designed their own demise
and will inherit their own destruction
in their own way and in their own time

and i
i shall dress
i shall dress me
in the fabric of my imagination
the tapestry of tangible visions
woven from the heartstrings
of mine own spirit
i shall wear frocks of silken silence
shaped by voices unheard
sewn with the threads of
my heart’s love
dressing or not dressing
in my own way and in my own time

and i
i shall live  
i shall live by the dictates
of mine own heart
by the requisites of
love that guides me
bears me with its beauty
with its truth
upholding that which is good
which bears no evil
which loves for loves sake alone
giving all to love for love
asking nothing in return
loving as i go
in my own way and in my own time

and i
i shall love
i shall love you


YOU

.
.
.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

SYNCHRONICITY AND THE OTHER SIDE - Trish MacGregor and Rob MacGregor

BOOK REVIEW

Believe it or not,  life continues after you die  -

This is how the writing team of Trish MacGregor and Rob MacGregor introduce us to their latest book, Synchronicity and the Other Side

As they quote Emerson in The Over-Soul...”the influences of the senses has in most men overpowered the mind to the degree that the walls of space and time have come to look solid, real  and insurmountable; and to speak with levity of those limits in the world is the sign of insanity.”  However, they assure the reader that here we will see...”the walls separating this world and the other world are not insurmountable, that we can obtain messages from deceased loved ones, that guidance can be found, that a larger picture of life and life hereafter is readily available...and that...the more contact one makes, the more the so-called realm of the dead appears to be buzzing with life, potential and promise.”  Then, just as the authors assure us of what awaits us, they methodically and comprehensively go about leading us on this journey of awareness and understanding, receptivity and communication, to synchronicity and the other side. 

Synchronicity is basically a “meaningful coincidence”, according to Carl Jung, or...”the coming together of inner and outer events in a way that is meaningful to the observer and can’t be explained by cause and effect...”  In the journey to communicate with our loved ones who are now on that other side, synchronicity becomes the guiding light through the darkness of misconception and misinformation, turning impossibility into not only possibility, but probability, using the information and techniques set out [again] by these authors of synchronicity.  

The MacGregors come about speaking on the subject of synchronicity with authority.  Their last co-authored book, The 7 Secrets of Synchronicity, was born as a result of the MacGregors’ life-long interest in meaningful coincidences.  As their own awareness in the subject grew, so, too, did their desire to write a book about synchronicity.  In early 2009, using the technological tool of the internet for research and to sample their blog [http://www.synchrosecrets.com/synchrosecrets/] audience, their collection of “synchronicities from around the world” amassed rapidly.  So it was that their first book on synchronicity was born - a guide leading the reader into the deep jungle of our own subconscious, lighting the way for our own awareness, creativity and life experiences, particularly, meaningful coincidences, to grow and flourish.  See my review of this timely and informative book at http://gypsywomanworld.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html.

Now, taking the reader further on this “ultimate journey” now with their newest book, Other Side not only expounds upon theory, it is replete with actual life stories and experiences of people around the world, including those of the authors.   Contact with those on the other side through altered states such as dreams and near-death experiences is examined.  The use of healing spirits [shamans, mystics and holistic healers] is introduced.   Spirit contact through synchronicities before or after the soul’s passing is  deeply looked into, leaving one thinking that “...perhaps...ideas...of the nature of consciousness...should be re-evaluated.”  Another avenue of spirit contact is through encounters with ghosts or spirits and, again, real life experiences abounding in synchronicity are shared.  Almost everyone has had experience with clusters of things - clusters of numbers or names or words or objects - whatever.  Such repetitions may be telling us that we “...should pay attention...the universe...is speaking...to us...one on one, about an issue that may be holding...us...back or about an idea or belief that may move...us...forward.”  Objects of interest are another way in which spirit contact is often experienced, with an object [belonging to, or associated with, the departed loved one] long lost or even unknown, resurfacing, or showing itself in some way.  Then, there is the “spirit of the trickster” - that “...archetypal figure often associated with the transition from life to death.”  Trickster spirits can wreak havoc with our emotions with their sometimes disturbing nature, “creating strife” and testing our strength and resolve in certain instances.   Even animals, including our pets, may be attuned to the spirit world...”vehicles of synchronicity and spirit contact.”   Spirit guides may come to us through dreams, through the use of a medium, or even in the “form of touch” like when you “...feel as if someone has just placed a hand on your shoulder or simply sense that someone is near...and you...experience an emotional reaction to contact, an overwhelming sense of elation, or shed tears of joy.”    

Regardless of the nature of contact with the other side, “when synchronicity is combined with spirit contact, new realms of possibilities and potentials open.”  Each of us has experienced moments of clarity in our lives - those moments when the muddled waters of life are made just a bit clearer, sometimes by a seemingly mundane event.  It is in those moments that we are able to see beyond the here and now and into the realm of the divine.  By using “synchronicity’s symbolic code”, the divine becomes all the closer.  The signs are everywhere.  By using the tools and techniques provided us in Synchronicity and the Other Side, cracking that symbolic code becomes all that much easier.

The works of these  award winning authors includes non-fiction subjects of dreams, astrology, yoga, animal symbolism and paranormal phenomena.   The fictional work of Trish MacGregor is replete with subjects of time travel, micro-chipping of animals and people, vanishings, parallel existences, governmental involvement and cover-ups, and more.  Her last novel, Esperanza, came out last year, and its sequel, Ghost Key, is to be released.  Rob MacGregor wrote Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and six other of the Indiana Jones original novels.  He has appeared on several major television network channels, as well.  His most recent novel, Double Heart, has just been released.   It follows the two others in this dynamic trilogy the includes Prophecy Rock [an Edgar winner] and Hawk Moon [Edgar nominee].   Still another book with the same protagonist is due out soon - Time Catcher. 

The MacGregors also write the Sydney Omarr astrology books [since Omarr’s death a number of years ago] which include twelve [12] sun sign books by individual zodiac sign with daily horoscopes, together with an annual volume divided into monthly sections.  In addition, they  maintain a must-see astrology blog in  Omarr’s  name  http://www.sydneyomarr.blogspot.com/.

Check out the MacGregors’  books at Amazon.  As I always say about their work - get it now - don’t wait. 

Monday, October 3, 2011

the leap...

 into the swirling whirling we did leap
heeding the call of love most deep
neither one the other enticed
wanting needing
at
any
price

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

the second skin...



















the
thought
of
him
her
second
skin
there
was
no
beginning
there
was
no



end
.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

to the one i left in dover...






it's pourin' rain
deep down in here

dark black rain pourin' down
since you ain't near

pourin' sadness and sorrow
like they ain't no tomorrow



all them tarnished yesterdays
lookin' for somewhere to stay

but they ain't no more room
deep down in here

no they ain't
caus'a all this sicken'n fear

this heart'a mine's
just plumb runnin' over

since i done left you
up there in dover

yeah it's pourin' rain
deep down in here

'cause you ain't nev'a
no more
my dear
.
.
.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

and now?...

 and what of you when she went away
when she slipped from view that cold dark day

did a part of her remain perchance
remnant of your swirling shadow dance

and what of you when she came back not
when she slipped from you in a loose lover’s knot

did a piece of her lodge in your heart
remnant of your mind’s work of art

and what of you now since she’s been gone
when with her she took your brilliant dawn

and what of her since she slipped from sight
when with you she left her beloved night

and what of her since she went away
when from you she left ‘fore judgment day

and what of you
and what of her

now

now
that she’s
gone

and
you're
both
all
alone

what of you
what of her
.
.
.

Monday, September 19, 2011

a land without time...



it was a land without time
a land before time
the land of shifting time
shifting lines
shifting paradigms

the land in between
this time and that time

cast off yesterdays
 
had come to stay
on this mean solar day
of stars gone astray
in this land without time
this land sublime

~

Friday, September 16, 2011

words...

words
his words
spiraling spinning
sinking
out of sight
into my sanity
my sovereign sanity
no longer held safe in
the sanctuary of my soul

 
words
his words
~

Thursday, September 15, 2011

a different place...


she comes from a different place

the mask of time leaves not her face

tears of crimson leave their mark
 

her heart beats to the tune of dark

into the shadow world she walks

her refuge now the cry of the hawk

 

she goes to a different place

~

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

indigo love...


feather quill dipped
in the ink well of my soul
seeking searching 
for my liquid holy grail
deeper and deeper
riding the waves of
indigo swirls
touches of thoughts
coming up now
clinging to the long
hard shaft in your
heart held hand
hold the tip
ever so close
making your mark
till i weep
songs of love

on
your
parchment
sheet
~

Sunday, September 11, 2011

is there...















is there no time for us
that we must love and part

is it a sin for us
to love with both our hearts

is there no way for us
to be in this life’s cusp

 


is there no place for us
before we turn to dust


~

Saturday, September 10, 2011

homesickness...




she had become homesick
for something quite unknown
something unfamiliar
something she seemed to have known
to have felt to have been
some other time some other place
but when or where remained a mystery to her
what or who it was she could not remember
an agnogenic condition for sure
but homesick she stayed
and so it was that her nostalgia grew
as did her yearning for that something missing
not complete not whole she could not quite grasp
sadness coupled with longing soon turned to despair
longing for a thing she could not even name
despair for a thing unknown
the more she tried to remember to surrender
to the mist of her now-faded memory
the more embattled her soul
as if some stranger some trespasser
a foreign interloper had quietly and stealthily sneaked
into the deepest recesses of her self
and plucked and plundered till there was no more remaining
no more indeed not even a drop
of what was of what had been of what should still be
that obscure something for which her melancholy grew
and which soon twisted into a weariness begging for resignation
resigning herself to lost recollection to lost recognition

nothing could salvage what was not there
nothing short of divination
and so in her abject morbid meditation
as she sat staring

into the nothingness of her days
something caught her eye
an illusion almost
an image a manifestation
of something but of what
what was it that she saw there
staring back at her from the other side
slowly ever so slowly she began to see what was
it began to take shape

to become
that something she could not name
began to blossom to grow to regenerate
the skeletal pieces came together
blanketed by a soft pink tint
under which she could feel
slowly but surely beating
her heart
she glanced furtively upward

directly into the eyes of
of that something she was missing
that she had almost forgotten
that she had nearly lost
the eyes of her
SELF

and then she saw not just the pieces but the whole image
the thing for which she had become homesick
the thing unknown unfamiliar
it was her -

without him


~