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...

Monday, February 28, 2011

postcard from the caravan...

it's the beginning of spring and after the long winter, i've decided to take a break -

so, the caravan will be parked for a while -

i'll keep the campfires burning bright with warm thoughts of you till we meet again -

until then -

peace and love
gypsy


Thursday, February 24, 2011

the gypsy wakes...


i woke up this mornin'
wantin’ some
soft mellow bliss
some snow white happiness
didn’t wanna hafta dress
with banks of icy drifts
up against my front door
from down at the floor
up to the roof
 yeah, i woke up this mornin'
wantin’ that bad ole’ blizzard
to have come and gone
way ‘fore dawn
leavin’ behind its powdery flakes
like sparklin’ diamonds on a silvery lake

 
but much ta my dismay
i woke up this mornin’
to a dark dreary day

all yucky and gray
rainin’ and rainin’ some more
wet stuff galore

i woke up this mornin’
layin’ here on my blanket of red
dreadin’ gettin’ outta bed
but dreadin’ stayin’ in it

cause you ain’t here
ta hold me near

yeah, i woke up this mornin’
wantin’ some
soft mellow bliss

so come on over now
come on over and
 
gimme
a
little
kiss
.
.
.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

and so it grows...

 and so it is
the cycle reclaims
its past and future
repeating reduplicating recapitulating
the fallen heroes submit
in crimson veneration
rendering resigning reconciling
their mother trunk
deprived once more

robbed raped ravaged
with barren branches
limbs and stems

requiem reposes remains 
defoliation complete
at autumnal equinox 
regrowth renewed rebirth 
and so it grows

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

phantom limbs...

 lust defined
flesh on flesh 
 
love confined 
thoughts of him 
 
draped ‘cross her mind
like phantom limbs
.
.
.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

to passion, butterfly days - and keats...


























i almost wish
we were butterflies
and liv'd but
three summer days —
three such days with you
i could fill with more delight
than fifty common years
could ever contain

Saturday, February 19, 2011

to reach into the other...


we listen to words
so we can silently
reach into the other

~

 
- this is what i want to do with you -
with my own words - with my poetry - with the images -
with all the things i place here in this blog and my other blogs -
 
i want to reach into you
as you reach into me
.
.
.

Friday, February 18, 2011

so, just....

 dance me

last night i was unable to sleep and as i lay there
with the full moon my only companion, 
these were my thoughts
of
you




Thursday, February 17, 2011

then love me here...







if you cannot love me there
there
in the land of life and breath
then love me here
here
in the land of indigo blood
and velum flesh

here
where your caresses
scorch this parchment skin
here
where your lips
meet mine in crimson slips
here
where words unspoken
are screamed in paper dreams
here
on this paper
where the ink flows
like the rivers run
to my heart

 
here
.
.
.


~ hear these words spoken ~

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

on nights of golden moon...

.
.
.
the road may call your name
but i still whisper it
on nights of golden moon

i keep it in my box
of things that mean the most
and take it out at times

to hold it to my lips
to savor it once more
as if each time the last 

and in my heart i sing

loves sweetest song to you
the one that calls your name
so i can whisper it
on nights of golden moon


so i can whisper it
.
.
.
.
.
.
last night i had a dream and in that dream
came someone for whom these words were written some time ago
- and i still call his name on nights of golden moon -
and think i always will
.
.

boston rose - as told by "the rose" herself...


this is a song i've just heard from a friend's place - a beautiful love story of two lovers destined to be apart - it is sung magnificently from the man's perspective as here in this video - but i thought it might do well to be heard from her perspective - from the perspective of the rose - and so, i have played with the words a bit and put them together as i imagine the rose herself might tell the story - enjoy:

~

‘twas a night like any other night in her life save for the magnificent full moon watching o’er her as she slept -

the same loving moon as looked down on him, there ‘cross the emerald isle -

him - he who had taken her heart with just the stroke of his pen - he who had stolen it away with his indigo ink -

and that night of the magnificent full moon he came to her in dreams -

he came to her as fully as if he had crossed those big waters and lay there himself beside her -

whispering into her heart all those words only sung in songs before -

he had come to bid her a fond farewell he said and he told her of his leaving, of his journey to a land far far away – a  journey only he could make -

and  under the light of the moon he whispered that he would ne’er forget her while he’s away – 

that on those nights when he’s alone,  he would think of her in visions from far far away, cross those emerald isles -

he would think of her with a fire burning deep inside – a fire no one else but she could ignite he whispered -

and on the nights of full moon in the heavens dark, as he flew gently by, he would look down upon her and call to her through the sleeping sky -

and so it was – that night of the full moon last that he came to her in dreams – a dream from which she was unable to tell from reality in the light of next day -

how she wished that he were there – with her – but she knew that’s how life goes -

and so it is that she, too, would wait – would wait for him – would think of him with a burning fire deep inside and on nights alone, he would come into her mind – into her dreams – from there, ‘cross the emerald isle –

she had no doubt of that – nor doubt of his return – for, after all, he – the one who had stolen her heart –  the one who had flown away with her beating heart through nights of indigo ink, he - he was the mighty phoenix - the one destined to return time and time again - and this time, to her -

and she, well, so the story goes, she was the girl who lived south of boston -
 
- the girl he called
his rose -
~

Sunday, February 13, 2011

you wanted me...






you let me be
the things i’d long forgot
held me close untied the knots
without a scheme without a plot

you gave me back
who i was before
but didn’t know no more
the one who’d shut that door

you got me back on track
of who i used to be
who i was to me
the gypsy wild banshee

you wanted me

Thursday, February 10, 2011

keepsakes of a gypsywoman...


things kept
things covered up
keeping things

one of a kind
trinkets of time
trinkets of mine
now just a shrine

once tucked away
not to be seen by the light of day

things i kept
as i wept

pieces of mine
pieces of time

threadbare thoughts
kept for naught

a ring of love left unworn
lives apart shredded and torn

a string of words left unsaid
love unlived left for dead

a strand of memory left unfilled
might as well have all been killed

things i keep
while i still weep


these are the keeping things
things covered up


keepsakes 
for my heart’s sake...

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

the choice...

On this narrow planet, 
we have only the choice 
between two unknown worlds. 
 One of them tempts us -
ah! what a dream, to live in that! - 
the other stifles us at the first breath!

Sunday, February 6, 2011

to walk under trees...


why are there trees
i never walk under but
large and melodious thoughts
descend upon me?

Friday, February 4, 2011

the gypsy weeps...

eyes in midnight velvet
black jet
tamed by no man yet 


soft breasts of alabaster silk
with skin like soft creamy milk

 
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 her 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



Thursday, February 3, 2011

the game...

she could not run
she could not hide
from all that haunted her inside

strip away the woven webs
of all that dormant dread
and all the monsters that she fed
when to the devil she had wed

and even then
from her own den

she could not hide
she could not run
from what in sin she had begun

it was a game
she could not tame
.
.
.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

to my friends in egypt...

 may the rising sun bring you
peace and love
~
you are in my thoughts
~