Thoughts from my head on my way to work . . .

we live in our heads,
tentacles of ourselves reaching out

my ex-husband stole my
inheritance
to hire a man
to stalk me,
and then ultimately kill me. . .
Yet
When the man and his friends
were ready to snatch me,
from the street corner,
as I waited for the first bus . .
and then the police car
came up behind them,
from nowhere . . .
like my guardian angel . . .

So many years ago . .  and the tears still fall
when I remember . .
I try not to remember how I hated and feared men
after that . . .
The horrors of a man who could leave
a woman he once loved
destitute . . .

for I had nothing left,
but my life . . .
my friends
my child
my joy of life
the stars over my world
the air, flowers, birds . .
running water . .
my intellect
my spirit

my strength . . .

we live in our heads,
tentacles of ourselves reaching out


the beautiful girl
raced past me to get to the bus shelter's bench
why?
She saw me with my cane . . .
my slow pace . . .

I wonder sometimes . . .

If the fruit of the tree
of the knowledge of good and evil . . .
was that verbal communication?
Was Eve the first human to talk?
Is that why men hate women so much?
because Adam had to listen?

we live in our heads,
tentacles of ourselves reaching out. . .

The workmen, in the building, gave me earplugs
to ward off the loud dissonant sounds
of the fire alarms
they were testing . .
with strobe lights flashing .. ..
it feels like an alternate universe
and I cannot quell the sensation
that I must run away. . .

the ear plugs are soft with pink and yellow stripes,
like candy,
I squish one down
and place it in my ear
where it expands slowly
tickling my ear drum
with its whispering sounds . . .
now I hear
only the sounds
of my inner self . . .

We live in our heads,
tentacles reaching out . . .

I walk towards the stairs
which lead up to my office

there is a lonely footprint
on the unwashed floor
bare and small
toes pointed
towards the exit. . .

We live in our heads,
tentacles reaching out . . .

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Royalty-free music for professional licensing

Massimo Vaccaro, "Meditazioni (EP)

http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a122771/meditazioni-ep

Delicate flute and rushing water .  . peaceful and quiet . . .  gives the listener room to breath . . . 

My only complaint is that the album is too short . . . but I listened . . . forever . . ..

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Royalty-free music for professional licensing

GingerTom, "Music and the Movies 10"

http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a122725/music-and-the-movies-10

With GingerTom's music, it is best to travel to Jamendo where he furnishes our minds with a delightful story to attend to the music . . . Even better to go to the beginning of this series and read the stories for all . .  in order:

I love the mystery of this musical story . . . It touches on something I would love to do . . travel through China, incognito and being touched by the simple lives and the beauty that abounds, both natural, historical, and human created . . . the Asian notes, and instrumental sounds in the music is quite nice, not overdone but tempting the heart of the listener . .. to follow . .. wherever it may lead. (This is one of my favorite GT's )

Please feel free to check out my music shares and reviews at:
http://wolfsongsmusic.blogspot.com/  
Thank you!

House . . .

Halcyon Hall *

I am lost in your hallways . ..
skylights ripped like scars
through your skin . .
you have no joy in me
as I wander through the night
leaving temporary imprints,
blood on your walls
I am but a memory that clings
like refuse . . . waiting to be blown
into the ever waiting skies . ..
a dream, a bit of wayward dust . . .
a glint of glass reflecting hope,
for esteem . . . I stand and yet
I crumble . .  slowly . .. minutely
momentarily away . . .
melting like seaweed
on endless shores . . .  I am lost
in your beauty . . .
I am lost to you .. .. .
I hear a hundred thousand voices
resounding like planets
across the plane of time . . .
the foot falls . . resonate. . .
sliding warily
through memories . . . woven in delicate
arches . ..  backs bent, straining against the pressure
that releases life . . .
a spare coin rolls downhill
like thunder's deep echo
the voice of a god speaking
hidden behind the next corner . .  
beware of splinters
spearing deftly through the murmuring heart . . .
the fall of the house
frees the soul as pigeons
wing skyward
the timbers crash to the soil
and the stench of mildew
revives the community
to bury the body . .

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Rune X -Natural Northern Darkness-,  "Paganstorm II (Album2013)"

Dark pagan . ..  black metal . . . joyless and droning . . yet mesmerizing and meaningful . . . responding and resonating with the listening soul . . .

Royalty-free music for professional licensing

Red Dragonfly

 To lighten and brighten the mood . ..  This dragonfly was hanging on to the tallest branch in my yard, after taking several flights with a friend . ..  it would sit here sunning itself, the colors glinting from the wings were like fire, golden red fire with occasional glimpses of the rainbow . . . its little head would turn and look at me as I took several pictures . ..  but it posed magnificently:

 

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* This picture of Halcyon Hall was NOT taken by me but was found on the Internet without notes regarding to the photographer. There are many pictures of this hall ( also known as Bennett College ) located in Millbrook NY . . . the latest pictures are of the collapsing in the middle section . . . it inspired me, this house, with its fancy face yet lost expression . . . its age and deterioration. . . its history . . .

http://www.preservationnation.org/magazine/2011/story-of-the-day/the-rise-and-fall-of-halcyon.html

http://www.opacity.us/site11_bennett_school_for_girls.htm

http://www.flickr.com/photos/carla-kurt/8620576750/

A Song Called Love . . .

I love your heart . . .
the song you sing reminds me
that we are but fragments of the stars. . .
fragile dust which has filtered
through fire and storm
leaving us divided
and traumatized . . .
each one alone,
incomplete . . .
yet all somehow connected . . .
a long unbreakable thread

Look up and see your wings . . .
seize them from the eternal abyss . . .
and fly away . . .
along the road Forever . . .
find your joy in the smallest flower .  .
a tunnel to life where miniscule creatures
tremble beneath your eye . .. 
I believe your tears will melt the wax,
of feathers . . . so tenderly applied . .
so violently sundered . .
your eyes like rays of molten sunshine . . .
a gold which drifts away,
lost within the clouds dispersed
over a troubled sea . . .
your heartbeat will thrill
the mountains to the ground . .
your bones as white as snow . . .
frosty shards bite into the depths . .
hard is the pain . .

Look deep to find the dreams
of souls . . . the same flows
in fathomless swirling waters . . .
danger . . .
beware, for angels dare not tread here . . .
the song is from the human heart . .
to heal and build the thread
of life . ..  and death . . .
and hope . .. a complication which
seals forgiveness
within the marrow of the soul . . .
and calls it love . .. . 

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Review:
Walter Mazzaccaro, "Sognandoti Ancora"

http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a119856/sognandoti-ancora

Opening with an OH-SO romantic piano . . . 
I immediately visualized a couple, 
with eyes only for each other  . . 
dining over candle-light . . . 
a dreamy atmosphere . . . 
a full heart-felt passion . . . .  
ahhhh . . . 
the music takes me to this place of love and romance .  .

Something Died

 Something died
and nobody cared,
a shroud of flies gathered
and nothing washed the body.

It lay silently

 without sweet incense

rising like a prayer;

or flowers weeping tender

petals,

silently turning

into cries of desperation
it was an end of something

an era . . . or a dream . .
and hope flew away on
wings of steel blades . ..
each stroke a slash
on a stilling heart;

dark red were the skies

where

crystal drops

of silent tears 

were

falling, falling

 

Royalty-free music for professional licensing

Stuff . . .

 A mysterious walk through time . . . 
electrical storms, blue fire . . . 
a bit of ambient music . . . 
whirling on the edges of yesterday's memories .  .  . 
like flashes of gems weaving a pattern, 
within a fractal, 
within a universe . . . 
and beyond . . . 
like flashes of stars repeating and dreaming . . . 
diving beyond the horizon . . . 
the longing to follow . . . 
to see, to reach, to touch . . . 
to become one with time . . . 
to flow forward while looking back . .
it sounds like this . . . 
a river of water is running over multi-colored pebbles . . . 
slowly dragging them 
from the mountains to the sea . . . 
a thousand years . .  a million . . . 
their flesh becomes sand, 
the dust that coats the heart of the world . . .  
let time . . . be . . . 

  Time Travellers by Mr.Ju

More mr.ju music to be found here:
http://www.jamendo.com/en/artist/339613/mr.ju

A Way-Back me . ..  time has passed . .

Letting Go . . .
         accepting change . . .
leaves a sense of peace . . 
within the rebellious soul . .
The heart lifts up
from an
unbearable burden of heaviness
and leaps into
the drifting breezes

like a forgotten balloon,
after the party,
which follows the melody
until there is nothing
but silence
and an empty heart bursts . . .

Nothing is wasted . . .
my love for you
      is returned
randomly . . .
on the wings of a flickering butterfly -
or in the arms of the rainbow . . .
or the kiss of the breeze as it carries . . .
the desperate cry of the lone wolf . . .
                        and the ashes of
death itself
           grows into
a light that
          flies across a dark sky
so full of embers . ..
a billowing canopy
so pregnant with fire
             and song
that it's as if the loss
of one little star
will leave no hole . . .
in the universe .. .
for the empty space is filled . . .
with darkness itself . . .

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Meandering Road

Peahen, and her brood, taking a walk

My walking stick, like a third leg, gives me the stability I need to trudge through the unfinished roads near my home. A peaceful place; I find it necessary for me to have these few moments, here, to de-stress and 

daydream.

The road, full of potholes

and gravel

is coated with a fine talcum powder dust

which rises as I walk,

lending yellow streaks to the still air . . . .

I hear small birds singing in the cool mornings

and during the warm afternoons

the chickens are wandering around softly murmuring

and chuckling over tasty discoveries . . .

while the voices of children add

to the flavor of the day . . .

Distant traffic

drones and eats away

at the edges 

where a squirrel chatters

at the crow who steals her hidden nuts.

Walking by a newly built house

I hear the friendly clatter of silverware

against porcelain. . . someone

stirs something up for dinner . . .

like a chime in a melody;

a lazy dog barks once or twice

and the crunch of gravel

adds to the tympani  . . .

there are children gathered

around the man trimming the wayward vines,

while laughing at his jokes

they help him

away from his secret sorrows,

and that deep well of loneliness

which pervades,

sinking like the dust

into the multitude of holes

in the soul . . .

  

A tree the captivates my senses

Royalty-free music for professional licensing

Time to cool down from those high hot temperatures of Summer? Well here you go . . . a nice chilly jazz tune to ease your pain . . . imagine standing under that waterfall . . . and listen . . .. !

Barbara Wolfsong : Walk With Me

Video by Barbara Wolfsong
Photography by Barbara Wolfsong
Vers, France
Music by Van Syla, "In Your Eyes"
from the album, "Death of a Star"
http://www.jamendo.com/en/track/633586/in-your-eyes

When We Had Wings . . .

     Once
     so long ago . . .

     a spiraling galaxy
     held our hearts . ..

     and we flew from end to end
     with wings
     that cried . .

     in grief, of sorrow
     in joy, of love . .

     we held on our faces,
     masks of serenity

     our praying hands
     cupped nectar from
     invisible winds . . .

     and we dreamed
     of a golden star . . .
     shining on a silver sea . . .

     and we reflected
     from heart to heart
     a soul of a planet . . .
     a small blue flower . . .

     a babe cried there
     on a lonely shore . . .
     where the seabirds gathered
     and the salt air stings
     in contemplation . . .

     and the dreams flow
     like mists and dew,
     rivulets of
     what will be . . .

     tomorrow and tomorrow . .
     deeper into the darkness
     we flew . . .
     our wings of crystal . . .
     shattered and fell away
     and we forgot . . .
         that once we were angels . . .

EDIT (August 28, 2012):

I was so moved by a Jamendo friend, Stefano Mocini, who was inspired by this poem and wrote a beautiful musical piece to go along with it . . .

Royalty-free music for professional licensing

Rune made a beautiful video to showcase Stefano's music . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKoP-QXgRUk&feature=em-subs_digest

An Urban Jungle

I remember when I was quite young, five or four . . . and I was at a birthday 

party where I was quite bored and lonely for I was so shy and never quite 

knew how to BE with other kids. . . 

There was a beautiful, shady back yard with

many plants everywhere and a lovely lady took me under her wings 

and guided me around the garden for a time, 

sharing with me her knowledge of 

the plants that grew like wild things there . .. 

giving me leaves to sniff and

 insects to observe closely 

and songs of the birds to hear . . . 

I never forgot those moments, 

the peacefulness and the awe I felt . . . 

and I have always wanted to emulate that space 

in time ever since . .. for I believe that that was 

heaven and that lady was an angel . . . 

giving me a gift to cherish forever . . .

 

Today in the jungle of my yard . . . 

 

I remembered the gardens of my life . . .

 

Cultivated or not, life is everywhere . . .

 

Each thing unique to its kind . . .

 

And each thing unique to itself . . .

 

As the canopy of life gives us breath . . .

 

The basics of life gives us strength . . .

 

The colors of life give us heart . . .

 

The windows of life give us vision . . .

 

The vistas of life give us surprises . . .

 

The closeness of life gives us love.

 

 All pictures taken in my tiny back yard . . . it's a jungle out there . . .

My Words

                                              I offered you my words
                              as a gift . . . .
                                        something that
              scratched up from inside my dark soul. . .
                                                   I offered you my gift
                           freely
                                      yet binding you
                  in ways unseen
                                   and ways you
                                              will never know
for now as you
                read these words
                        your heart
                                     beats in me
                             and your blood is 
                         flowing
               through my veins. . .
                        though your song whispers
                                    away through trails of winds
                     and lightning
. . .. a brief flash
                filters through
                             your grief  . . what have you lost
. . . you have gained . . .
                      like a reprieve
                                  or a debt . . .
                           your flesh melts
                                         beneath the teeth
                                                               I call my words
                                  and though you run
               you fall . . .
                         the fear beneath
                                                 the streets
                                                             of your desire
                            tosses you aside
                                                 like a limp rag . . . yet
                                                           you have gained more
                    than all the treasures
ever . . .

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This music has star shine . . . dreamily beautiful
and full of peaceful joy  . . .  
I am lifted up . . . with the wings of fulfillment
as all is complete in this cosmos . .
I loved the pulsing bells in "Pulsars" . .
unique and creative . ..  something that quivers
through you, as you listen, and you feel part of
the wholeness of eternal space . . . as if you
could open your heart and let it all in . .

I've been enjoying this musician and his
extraordinary music . .

Royalty-free music for professional licensing

Love Follows Me

My love is blue

                                        as the dawn's  early

                                              eggshell. . .

My love sings

like the butterfly,                                                 

in her silent heart . . .                         

My love tastes

                                       of the amber sunset,

                                                    a flash of drenching nectar . . .      

My love dreams

of scarlet blood,                                  

copper scented, life gifting . . .                                         

My love is

                                    the glow of the rose

                                                           in the day,

and the shine of the galaxies                                             

in midnight's slow hand . . .                    

My love drifts

                                      in the soft salty dew 

floating over                

an ocean's wide floor . . .                    

My love dances

                                on the cliff edge

                                                     of always,

                   lifted by the zephyr's 

cool fingers                         

and spread like the stars                                             

                                         the conundrum 

 of the night's long passage . . . .                          

 My love holds

                                           my trembling hand as

I open tomorrow's wide door . . .

   My love is blue

like the kiss of the sky                        

                                    on the passion of water . . .

 

Dreaming in the Sun

The air is full of small insects
playfully looping and dancing around
lush greenery, still tender with dew drops . . .
and the happy faces of yellow flowers,
pointed toward the sun,
bob beneath the tender touch of a mild breeze,
or the administration 
of a pollen coated honey bee . . .

The warm sun glows and
we forgive him his long journey . .. 
a distance taken behind stormy clouds . . .
The air is redolent with a sweet perfume,
like a river of delicate surprises. . .
a scent skimming off 
a snow white blossom covered tree . . .
petals flutter down . .  


Somewhere a crow calls
and I see the serene face
of a daydreaming ape . . 
carved on an old fence post . . 
a face reflecting mine, somewhat . . .
as I drift away
wrapped in the warm arms of a skyward furnace,
while I watch a small pair of black spiders
scurry up the post, dancing in the sunlight
like lovers . . .

So many shades of green . . .
the tender, furry, yellow new growth . . 
mingles with the deep emerald purity
of maturity, shining like jewels
. . . twinkling . . .or matte and still,
like moss on an old stump . . 
green stalks of grass are
spears pointed toward the day star . . 
a forest . . . and the golden light
exposes their thin veins in yellow . . 

Silver filaments of spider web
span the abyss between islands of growth,
quivering like a harp string
plucked by unknown fingers . . .
dramatic and bowing as rainbows
after the storm . . . 


Birds fill the soundwaves
with song,
pearls on a line . . .
linking my heart . . . 
with the universe . . .
and the sun fills my soul
with memories,
of the divine . . . 

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An artist share from Jamendo . . . such beautiful music . . . I have also shared this artist's web page in my sidebar of favorites . . . check it out:

Royalty Free Music - Stock Music Library | Jamendo PRO

A Morning Walk

Detail in yard near park.

Pictures taken at Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden, Portland, Oregon
Music: Dancing with the Swans by: Sagnik and Krishnaroop
from the album "Ethereal Lounge" http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/92226

What is yesterday
                 but a fleck of dust,
                           blown in the wind,
          and soon forgotten
after leaving a footprint
                 in the shifting sands . .

What is today . . .
             as I sit by a lake
filled with spring waters. . .
               I watch
the curious ducks float by,
                  sparks dribbling
from their bills
             I hear
                    the cargo train
passing through on the other side
            of the green . . .
his voice is humming
                     with the day's burdens . .

The water tumbling,
              down the cliff,
                      leaps and shines with
white glee,
          sparkling with expectations. . .
                     for it is new
                             with birth
               and not yet settled
and still 
                like the pond below . . .
                           scummy and wrinkled
         with a life lived
                      and a collection of detritus. . .
old feathers . . . dead leaves . . . 
          the unknown, and filled with
                     algae and green slime
     so that
           the geese are happy
                 to feast there . . .

The old tree stump
                 in the middle of the lake
        is a harvest of green
                      and reflections,
                                  perhaps ancient memories . . .
                   and rooted deeply
             in the sands
             of experience
still making
             an offering to life
                     on the alter of death . .

There is abundant water on this earth

                   a huge burst
                        of elixir
                             the manna of life
                                              an         expectation
              of beauty, evident
                             to the furthest reaches
of space. . .
a glowing blue planet
of promise
and love . . .
 




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