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Willow tree energy and 2 More Doom Sonnets! May 29, 2009

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Capital Region Notions, Civilization Anonymous, doom sonnets, Uncategorized.
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On my lunch hour today, I went across the bridge over 787 and skittered over to my willow-tree teacher.  Again, the lessons are very subtle, but I am so glad I ventured out to Riverfront Park.  I really needed what she had to offer.

The energy of summer unfolded as I traversed the bridge.  Verano’s verdant sentinels, the trees of Rensselaer presented themselves across the river as I strode above the freeway, and I really started to get excited.

(This reminds me, that my Iron Pentacle work today was especially crisp.  I’m only realizing it now–I loved derferred understanding!)

Well, I stood under her branches and breathed up to my Godself there.  I would normally sit on the ground–a tad too moist for that right now.  Then I put my third eye to the bark of Ms. Willow, and I could only take in a little bit of her fecund energy.  Gosh!  I got a little bit dizzy.

Anyway, two more doom sonnets.  Thanks Psychegram for the encouragement!

#27

All right. vEmpre’s coffin lid caves in
about our heads.  All around us apocalypse
signals wreaking havoc as mute braves end
cuntic occupations, most grand eclipse!
Necronomy’s fall breathes new life for us
my future friends, we newly volunteer poor.
We come together and form structures more porous,
welcoming, flexible—an open door
for those with big hears and free-ranging thought.
No one  is stronger or smarter than all
of us fearlessly speaking honest truths wrought
from fiery Experience’ cauldron. Call
me a doomer if you must.  But my soul
Sings joyous, dances toward selves more whole.

 #28

 “United In Name Only States?”  Truer
without those three added words does our nation’s
name ring as Fortune’s quick fall to sewer
slaps ’Merkkkan know-how to perturbations
resounding.  The system of vEmpirous
energy-drain crashes hard its limits.
Before long, nation-state notions cirrus
will evaporate.  They’ll try their gimmicks
to keep the cracked platters a jugglin’
but whose heart remains once leaves house empty?
Will my neighbors be shocked as these bunglin’
politicos pile on, try to tempt, plea
for mercy, for yet another fleecing?
Or come to our senses, this scheme ceasing?

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