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 -


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...

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

is it...

is it her name
you cry in
silent screams
in your lifeless dreams

her scent
that gives you flight
on crimson wings in the night

is it her laughter
that fills the bottomless hole
dug deep within your poor lost soul
her flesh
that burns now your own
through layered shreds of crystal bone

is it her soul
that wraps you gently in the bleak black blue
left behind by an anguished adieu

her spirit
that holds in love the charred remains
of life’s last embers within your veins

is it
is it hers



Poetic Soul said...

Wow, this is so unique and powerful... I'd say its her soul

Claudia said...

i much like the image of a scent giving flight and laughter that fills the bottomless hole...i always think that laughter has power to heal..


thank you so very much poetic soul - wonderful to have you come by and leave such kind words - please come again soon!


hmmm...yes, there is this thing about scent isn't there - and the feelings it evokes and how it remains forever a part of us because it was a part of him - no doubt the healing power of laughter - healing but not forgetting perhaps - so glad you came over and i hope you'll be back soon!

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

Mysterious and beautifully said and a shocking finish, in a way...! I love all the imagery in this poem. And I love the line about "scent".


oh, hello, sweet lady! i was literally just thinking of you! tomorrow is my birthday and i'm having a little virtual get together - so i do hope you can make it! but i was thinking how great it would be to have a celebration in the land of reality - something akin to the magnificent birthday celebration you recently had! ;) and i come here to find you having just come by! thank you! have a great remainder of the evening!

Trish said...

When you read books about writing, one thing that stands out is engaging the senses fro the first paragraph. You so do this in spades, Gypsy. Every sense, engaged, ALIVE!


oh, wow! what words, trish! thank you! and so very special from you - but, that's what you do, too, with your writing! i mean, you have me crazy about a fictional woman whom i swear i was in another life! how's that for engaging? ;)

but i thank you and am humbled by your words!


and the thing is, trish, this is a rhetorical question here - is it hers - or is it mine - i know the answer - how sad is that? it might not be as sad if it were hers -


one of my absolute most favorite birthday gifts is this poem put to music by a beautifully gifted young woman, a dear friend, kate, here in blogland - please be sure and hear her magical version here: