Milady (in Gratitude)~ Guest Post

“Milady” (In Gratitude)

Thank you Milady,
For helping me unlock my heart.
I had locked it up in fear and fright
afraid to feel, to even move,
afraid to lose what I didn’t have
But mostly afraid I didn’t have what it took to fight
To win back the love I had lost, my wife.
You have inspired me to take on the fight of my life
To win her heart again
When the darkness had come again
And despair was overwhelming
You were placed in my path,
to shine a light behind the façade
I presented to the world
You shone your light high,
Revealing the rocky path you are traveling,
Baring your soul, your heartache, unimaginable despair
Pain and suffering
Most importantly
Your fierce will, your courage
and your desire to live
I thank God for you!
We are all but single candles
Burning in the night
Together we burn braver, brighter, stronger
So I say simply,
Thank you, Thank you Milady,
I pray your light always burns bright!
❤ Ken


This is a guest post by my friend, Ken. He has been very supportive of my work here on & off WP. When we met, I hesitantly gave him the address to this blog. I’m grateful that I did, as it has helped him to see his own light and to take up the fight to save his marriage.

Ken, thank you so much for this! This came to me at a time when I needed it the most. You are part of why I didn’t take this site completely down…yes, I almost did! And yes, I do believe you need your own blog! You can do it! 


image: Google



Pigtails & Southern Belles ~ A Duet

Words to wings of friendship

life experiences exchanged

glances, laughs & sighs of realization

bring depth to the ink we drip


the feeling of timelessness

not one beat missed.

what a beautiful day,

shared in a most beautiful way.


Madness abounds in the details

pigtails, plural nouns & angel wings

Bind us in more than this moment of time

We journey forward, from this point forward.


Belly laughs, smiles & some tears

helping one another dispel fears.

Watermelon mimosas, collard greens,

two Southern women: The Bee’s Knees!


This week, I had the opportunity to meet Dana, the beautiful soul behind Love letters lost at SeaWe met for breakfast and stayed through lunch. The company, food& weather were great! She & I discovered that we have a lot in common. To my surprise, I even got to meet Adam. We penned a poem or two. 


Image: Google 


Circles and cycles
repeatedly returning,
seemingly back to the start.
At times feelings of  falling apart.

Much like Groundhog’s Day
until the lesson is learned,
the part made whole,
what is outward becomes inward: enfolded.

Just as the season’s cycle,
so do the lessons,
again like the corkscrew
piercing deeper into shadows.

From the death of fallen leaves
new life sprouts again
in the spring.
Destruction precedes construction.

Again and again
the wheel turns ’round
pouring seeds and fodder
to the ground.

We can choose to resist this
yet it all happens, regardless.
To be vulnerable, allowing cultivation,
and not fallowing of sacred ground is true strength.

Image: Pintrest (no artist credited)

Hearts & Desires

Two related, yet unrelated, poems.
Everything is ok, working through some things =)
Happy Sunday!


Teeth gnashing
Flesh gashing
Defiled & torn apart
The weight of tender hearts.



The desire to be desired,

Yet not used.

The desire to be trusting & vulnerable,

Yet not abused.

The desire to hear you,

Yet also speak my truth.

The desire to please you,

Yet not to be consumed.

The desire to meet your needs,

Yet to myself remain true.

The desire to be protected,

Yet not be restricted.

The desire to be held,

Yet without being crushed.

The continuum of the fall

Can also be the rise up.

Image: Google

Dual Seduction

At first, there was only light.
Light only knew light,
having seen nothing else.
To experience itself as more,
as separate, shadow was created.
Here light could feel differently.

In the shadows, light could choose
it was given Free Will to experience
once again as connected light or
separate from light and live
in the shadows; dual situations,
either a sweet seduction.

Someone called this shameful, a sin,
to within the darkness live.
The shadows now become where
the little light fears itself,
fears its connection, all the judging
further separating and disconnecting.

Somewhere the light became confused
and mistook its shadow for its truth.
This pushed the light further away,
thinking it was somehow evil & not okay.
Further shielding thus more shadows created,
more and more each light feels separated.

In its pain and suffering, the light
sees its own shadows in others.
Not seen as a reflection, the light
then moves into projection of its
own wounds, casting shadows
onto other lights. No one is bright.

To change its course, each light now
can choose the lit path once more,
in so doing, each light now has work to do.
To remove each obstacle
that blocks the fullest expression of
each lights’ light, no one can lose.

Knowing that some lights are born
just to cast shadows, allowing the light
to more fully experience itself through
Free Will to choose to live free of the dross,
labeling the shadows as “evil” puts all at a loss.
For all lights to shine brightly once again,
it takes each Light making a repeated choice to follow its own truth.

For all lights to shine brightly once again,
it takes each Light making a repeated choice to follow its own truth.


Poet’s note: I’ve been pre-writing this piece all week. After scheduling it to publish, I realized the date… 9 years ago today the shootings at Virginia Tech, my alma mater, occurred. Much love & healing to all involved including: the survivors, health care providers, first responders, & to the families of all lives lost that April day. How hard it must be for the shooter’s family to remember their own loss.

Please check out the Jesse Lewis Choose Love Movement, founded by Jesse’s mother following The Sandy Hook Shootings. Her book, Nurturing Healing Love by Scarlet Lewis, is an amazing read.

May we each love a little bit more today and everyday. Love.


Images: Google

Southern Fried

Warning: “Exotic” dancers in the video. Watch at your own risk!

Having a four day weekend means more posting. Tomorrow I’ll be back at work and then traveling, so I’m getting my writing in now. =)

Southern fried.
Right foot in the sandy port city,
burned by citizens as they fled
the Union soldiers way back when.
A cannonball, made of lead,
in the church walls still embedded.

Left foot in the foothills of Appalachia,
Toes in the valleys of The Blue Ridge
where the red clay stains in the shadow
of Star City. The county is the
moonshine capitol of the world to this day.
Most good food here are battered and deep fried.

One of my grandma’s best recipes involved
fried apples with enough butter and
brown sugar to please a little girl’s needs.
Pickled watermelon rind, oh yes,
how I wish I took the time to learn of their secrets.
When older I learned of her fantastic Whiskey Sour recipe.

Though I’ve tried to leave the south,
Looked to the North for college: PSU.
Looked to the West and North after PT school.
Yet Neptune and the Sirens loudly recalled
me back to this place of sandy and
black clay soil with dunes & Cypress bogs.

The best crabs are blue, from the Chesapeake.
The best oysters are raw, hope no body peed.
Some of the best foods are fried, we won’t
talk bar-b-que if you’re from Texas or KC,
the Virginia variety has a hint of vinegar,
and is sweet and spicy: the best for this Southern Fried.

And don’t try to sell me the whiskey from
overseas or Tennessee. Kentucky Mash,
that’s where it’s at, just as the Joker says.
Angel’s Envy, Booker’s, Baker’s, Maker’s,
you can keep your labels named after dead men.
If it’s for me, it better be neat! Yes, really, seriously.

With feet in two places, I can speak
in a Southern drawl or generic American.
Not sure how some people think I’m European?
Born and raised, I was, south of the Mason-Dixon line
as were 3:4 of my Grandparents, in this state of Virginia
The state seal with a breast revealed….

Yet for nudist beaches, casino gambling one must leave,
traveling for another place to be.
It’s ok, at the end of the day I’ll return from those towns
happy to kiss the ground under my feet
when I once again return to this place of my birth.
Everyone, including me, never would have believed I wouldn’t leave!


Perspective: It’s Everything

When I look at life as magical and miraculous, I see magic at every turn. Yet, when all I feel is despair, then I find myself disconnecting – creating the very thing I believe. How I perceive means everything; it can make me, it can break me. Truly. Sadly. Happily. You name it, I create it.

Just this past Friday I found myself in the grips of despair. After I removed the distraction of WordPress, the loneliness that I had been evading (quite creatively; thinking I was doing well by myself, nonetheless), became oppressive.

Interestingly, swimming is a powerful visualization for me when I am in physical or emotional pain. It seems that with my recent descent into the Abyss, being in a submarine offered too much protection and this time, I found myself skin diving through the River Styx, a river I have greatly dreaded conquering.


Zero: A New Birth

The whispers
in my ears roaring the things I don’t want to hear

The lost words
of how the river of Styx feels on my toes

The air
Raped from my lungs when pushed in from above

The pit of despair
What brought me here? No air: who fucking cares?

The pain consuming all
Deeply felt until the nothing permeates & penetrates

The absolute resolution
The darkness fills my heart: full dissolution

The armor
No longer needed; no thing to protect anyway (hearing echoes of “who fucking cares?”)

The lack of container
Flowing just as the river, until becoming it; everything

The movement
As I flow from here to there, every where yet no where, every thing yet no thing

Less than zero
The complete submission
Freedom rings, a return to air

A new Zero
The rebirth
Toes dipping into the River Styx, until next time when I feel lost again

Once I reemerge from this river, there is no longer a sense of loneliness. I feel complete again. In fact, my “need” for a romantic relationship is shed. In swimming through the river Styx, I shed another layer of the part of me that felt lonely; incomplete.

It can sound scary to swim through the River Styx, yet my faith that I am protected allows me to repeatedly swim when it feels I cannot breathe. While I do not view myself as a Christian, in the last 8 or so years, I have begun to see some scripture in a different light. Perspective, once again, can make things so different in my life.

The 23rd Psalm, in particular, holds great power for me. I recite it, as well as other powerful verses, Ho’Oponopono and Reiki when I find myself in any sort of jam. Tom Kenyon, co-author of The Magdalen Manuscript: The Alchemies of Horus and the Sex Magic of Isis, offers a new perspective of this Psalm. After hearing his explanation of the alterations that include the Divine Feminine, I was blown away. Throughout my work, I often refer to Psalm 23 as it helps me so frequently.

According to Kenyon, this Psalm has connections to the Hermetic system in Egypt. [if you would like to listen to his words, you will need to go to his site, click the agreement to his copyright terms, then scroll way down to the bottom and you will see two links to the 23rd Psalm to either download or listen. One is the Alchemical Decoding and the other is a voice recording, an interesting experience]

23rd Psalm
“Mantra of Protection”

The Lord is my shepherd,
     Your celestial soul protects you
I shall not want.
     when in connection with your celestial soul, you are not in lack.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures,
     life situations that are nourishing
She restoreth my soul.
     through being still & connecting with the still quiet voice within
He preparest a table in the midst of mine enemies.
     we are abundant and given what we need, in spite  inner and outer enemies; ourselves 
She anointed my head with oil,
     refers to connection with our higher centers (Ureaus) 
my cup runneth over.
     the blessings overflow
Even though I walk through the valley of the Shadows of The Death,
     the old world is dying; daily our cells also die – we live amongst both death and life
I shall fear No Evil,
     there is nothing to fear when we are connected
For Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me.
     references to the Egyptian Ascension process which offer protection through ascension
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.
     when we are connected to our higher aspects, we receive grace
And I shall dwell in the house of The Lord, Forevermore.
     you are in the house of your own celestial soul
    so be it


It is my hope that after reading this, you may find a new perspective of this Psalm, so often read at funerals and associated with death. Yet, for me it offers so many keys to living.

Interesting to note that in my opening statement I refer to the magic of life. Today, after I observed an Osprey flying overhead (connections to Hermes, The Egyptian symbol of the Soul), that I was offered a bottle of water by a local church during my morning run/walk. Attached to the bottle was a scripture. It was Psalm 23:2 “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leadeth me beside still waters.” I could have refused the offering, yet I heard Buddha’s teaching to receive what is offered from others. I could have also received 1 of 9 other scriptures, yet I received this one, which also reflects my journey of respite from WP as well as my swim through the River Styx.

Later in the day I was out and about, waiting for some work to be done on my Jeep. The TV in the lounge was showing the Michigan State vs Purdue game. After I sat down, laptop open, the score was tied at 23 to 23. This lasted for the better part of a minute. I wish I could make this shit up. While I wanted to sit down and work on many other pieces, I was clearly being lead to work on this piece about Psalm 23, IMHO.

Perhaps it is my belief in the magic of life that brings me these hints and messages: perspective!

Author’s note: 23 is a very powerful number for me. I was born on the 23rd of the month, my grandmother’s birthday. My BFF was born on the 23rd of January. I also love prime numbers, they represent for me the bit of beauty found in being indivisible; the asymmetry and imbalance. They are “imperfect” and I fucking love them for it.


The Battle of Love

Love beckons yet repulses more.
Come hither, see your ugliness, beauty:
“Your gifts and your misses
see who you are through the eyes of your Lover,
see yourself here in His mirror.”
Falling in love: like a face plant in the mud.

When truly with a Lover’s heart
held to a higher level
seeing greater potential;
not permitting dawdling
in the lesser realms of oneself
Love demands growth into a better person.

To rise up dragons must be faced, slayed,
Light shined on darkness; all ugliness revealed.
Less than this is merely living fantasy;
To be in love with the idea of love, no skin in the game
A fruitless journey that keeps us all the same.

Love can lift us upon a wind,
Only when the dross is lost
traded in for something greater, bigger than one.
Love demands more of us
so few truly willing to pay the price
for who truly wants to shed one’s own skin?

So, I sit in the castle’s keep
waiting for my own heart, willingly to take that leap.
I look to the valley, where the apples are so sweet.
So much easier to just stay asleep.
For in my tower, I am complete in my power
untouchable yet lonely.


The Battle of Evermore calls to the epic internal struggle seen in The Lord of the Rings, where each character is an archetype for a part of each one of us; the good, the bad, the ugly. This song invaded my mind after my first draft of this poem. I fought against this song initially. Then in looking further, I saw the parallels and even altered the poem slightly to fit the song; not my m.o.

To fall in love is addicting, yet for love to last it requires that we lose ourselves to some degree.  Compromise is required, at the very least. The hardest thing, I believe, is seeing myself through the eyes of a Lover. To see myself, the best more than the worst, is a difficult pill to swallow.

When in the midst of love, I do not like the person I become. Usually confident, I fall into self-doubt and questioning of every-single-thing. The brightness dims. Can I truly be accepted for all of who I am? Where I do not accept myself comes to light. Where I have been rejected in the past, old wounds, all resurface.

So it is tempting to seek for love, to leave the tower to taste the apples of the valley. Yet the apples are perishable, they eventually give to rot. In my tower I am safe, yet it’s a lonely place. To leave, to be vulnerable is as to fall from grace. I lose my confidence. I must face where I do not trust. Then I am constantly questioning myself and wondering, is this truly the One? A Neo to my Trinity. To love is to get dirty.



Images: google




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