in the South it's Beltane
dark moon blooming into gold
but over here the sun
is dipping, dipping
we speak softer, silence
stills the edges, fills the center
every leaf disrobing
stripping, stripping
slip, unveiling Spirit
no I, nor you, no marking, no
accounting of our gripes
no gripping, tipping
over into Death
that light and heat may warmth replete
our cousins cross the Stripe
they're yipping, lipping
let's be gracious guests
giving up to God all gifts
delicious dishes done
and sipping, sipping
fennel tea and squatting
over pumpkin slaw, we're drawing
in to keep the wind
from nipping, nipping
02 November 2021
06 October 2021
Luna
Lovers leave you, Luna not. Receive
her mirrored shine, receive her gentle trine
to Venus, Neptune, Jupiter. Receive
your loving moon. The moon was shining for
your mother, hers and also hers. The moon
is mother, lover, friend and brother. Moon,
love letter from adoring, constant God.
her mirrored shine, receive her gentle trine
to Venus, Neptune, Jupiter. Receive
your loving moon. The moon was shining for
your mother, hers and also hers. The moon
is mother, lover, friend and brother. Moon,
love letter from adoring, constant God.
03 September 2021
Who will have me?
Country, land or city,
which will take me: mutt and motherless?
Who will have me, who would want a girl
who hasn't pedigree? Who will say
to me, "Sister, you are one of us"?
From stately town to forest vale, I wandered,
lonely, clouded heart and restless, journeys
only half-completed, always giving
up, half-hearted, only giving all
my heart to blankly staring boys who didn't
get it. Getting gone each time, afraid
to hear the rhyme, they'd say, "What do you mean?
What do you mean, you don't belong?" Of course,
to them it made no sense. For them a home
was made millennia ago, for them
a home is natural as the out and in,
as simple as their shouting sex. Belonging
isn't trying on, for them—it's shameless.
Why be afraid or shamed of one's own skin?
Who will have me? Not to take and fuck
and eat me—who will see me, want me near,
consider me as family? Who will say,
"Our love, so long we waited, never giving
up. We knew that you'd come back, we knew
you'd come to take your place among us, once
"whatever odyssey you'd sailed, whatever
wicked beast had jailed you, any trial
that delayed you, overcome. We knew
and here you are at last. Here you are.
Here you are at last. Here, at last."
for Vanessa
which will take me: mutt and motherless?
Who will have me, who would want a girl
who hasn't pedigree? Who will say
to me, "Sister, you are one of us"?
From stately town to forest vale, I wandered,
lonely, clouded heart and restless, journeys
only half-completed, always giving
up, half-hearted, only giving all
my heart to blankly staring boys who didn't
get it. Getting gone each time, afraid
to hear the rhyme, they'd say, "What do you mean?
What do you mean, you don't belong?" Of course,
to them it made no sense. For them a home
was made millennia ago, for them
a home is natural as the out and in,
as simple as their shouting sex. Belonging
isn't trying on, for them—it's shameless.
Why be afraid or shamed of one's own skin?
Who will have me? Not to take and fuck
and eat me—who will see me, want me near,
consider me as family? Who will say,
"Our love, so long we waited, never giving
up. We knew that you'd come back, we knew
you'd come to take your place among us, once
"whatever odyssey you'd sailed, whatever
wicked beast had jailed you, any trial
that delayed you, overcome. We knew
and here you are at last. Here you are.
Here you are at last. Here, at last."
for Vanessa
11 July 2021
25 June 2021
08 June 2021
raging green
Raging green (March 2020) is a sonic synthesis of poems by Catherine Leigh Schmidt, an artist, composer, poet and theologian of North American origin, working in English, German, French, Korean and Sanskrit (modern and classic). This collection is one of Schmidt's early compositions; it dates from the onset of the Covid19 Pandemic, one of many watershed events in the 21st century.
Catherine Leigh Schmidt lives in Berlin, Europe, among an ebbing and flowing multitude of companions. She survived The Trials with no accusation. All who know her consider her a friend. Catherine herself doesn't talk much of the beforetime, though if you ask her she says:
Catherine Leigh Schmidt lives in Berlin, Europe, among an ebbing and flowing multitude of companions. She survived The Trials with no accusation. All who know her consider her a friend. Catherine herself doesn't talk much of the beforetime, though if you ask her she says:
Never enough Lovers but Lord, did I have Emperors and Hierophants in spades.The only known extant copy of raging green is housed in the SoundCloud Rescue. It is a private track. Press PLAY to hear it now.
31 May 2021
26 May 2021
25 May 2021
24 May 2021
22 May 2021
18 May 2021
12 May 2021
11 May 2021
hearts uncovered
Uncovered heart, exposed on walks, in park,
at Wasserturm, at Denkmal, Bank und Platz,
or naked, strung up on the baby throne.
Singing heart out into phone--no, not
alone, surrounded by the poets of
the Ages: Sounding Ones who've raged and flown.
Cover: The Valley, by loren chipman, CC BY-NC 2.0
at Wasserturm, at Denkmal, Bank und Platz,
or naked, strung up on the baby throne.
Singing heart out into phone--no, not
alone, surrounded by the poets of
the Ages: Sounding Ones who've raged and flown.
Cover: The Valley, by loren chipman, CC BY-NC 2.0
10 May 2021
Melisa
Monday morning, I’d
be searching, swerving
high and low and tripping
long, by bulls
and pools. A fool
would I be, searching under
every stone, for one
who loved me just
a moment, but eternal
one: a moment.
Won’t forget the moment when
she hugged me.
A fool would I be,
vainly seeking, peeking
under every hood,
behind each goggle,
blinking, winking
back my sleep, still seeking
into night for
checkered cotton—
angora—
for stylin’ wild and bright-
eyed child, yawning
into dawn and crossing
each abscissa.
Misty-eyed I’d list
from miss to miss,
one missive on my
lips: Melisa? It’s
lucky, I’m not stuck. A
lucky fucker,
I! I gave my number,
thumbed in phone
my number. Even
in her sun, I typed
it right. Someone looking out
for me,
all right. Someone running
everything
up there, someone there to
guide the pair
of all-thumbs Amar’s
stumpy wayward thumbs.
Right! Thumb,
foresight, bright...then
to my lips,
forefinger, thinking...what?
And how? How now
this miss, Melisa,
what to write Melisa?
Hi? Hello? Happy I, enjoyed
to meet you? Joy. It was a joy,
and einmal,
keinmal would it
just as joyful been.
09 May 2021
08 May 2021
05 May 2021
*
I don't add my asterisk. I don't add it.
I'm not an asterisk, although I have one.
One wish I have, one simple wish: to be
your lover in a story of the Greatest
Love. To take our place together in
the Pantheon of Lovers: Orpheus,
Eurydice, Krishna-Radha. Lunacy?
Of course it is! Is there any other
love but lunacy? Everybody has one,
Catherine. Everybody's got an asterisk,
everybody's got an ask, every
body comes with shit. You love to call
it shit. Ok, it's shit, my shit. Of course
I've got my shit. I've got my asterisk
I've got a body just like you. Would
you please (not) hold it against me?
I'm not an asterisk, although I have one.
One wish I have, one simple wish: to be
your lover in a story of the Greatest
Love. To take our place together in
the Pantheon of Lovers: Orpheus,
Eurydice, Krishna-Radha. Lunacy?
Of course it is! Is there any other
love but lunacy? Everybody has one,
Catherine. Everybody's got an asterisk,
everybody's got an ask, every
body comes with shit. You love to call
it shit. Ok, it's shit, my shit. Of course
I've got my shit. I've got my asterisk
I've got a body just like you. Would
you please (not) hold it against me?
Skeleton Woman
A reading of "Skeleton Woman," from Women Who Run With the Wolves, by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D., expanded from a five-line spoken poem given to her by Mary Uukalat.
When silent, reading, I, on ledge of Wasserturm,
could read no longer under silence, my heart
took flight, took voyage, took grasp of Skeleton Woman.
When silent, reading, I, on ledge of Wasserturm,
could read no longer under silence, my heart
took flight, took voyage, took grasp of Skeleton Woman.
02 May 2021
Not without a scratch,
escape. Not
without a cut, a scrape, an opening gape,
a mercy of the death-delivering knave,
a turning of the japing, blade: a teaching.
A teaching: taught a lesson of the cost
of liberty. A lesson of the settling
of debts, the evening of freedom's sweep.
Freedom. Expected you for free, the freedom?
without a cut, a scrape, an opening gape,
a mercy of the death-delivering knave,
a turning of the japing, blade: a teaching.
A teaching: taught a lesson of the cost
of liberty. A lesson of the settling
of debts, the evening of freedom's sweep.
Freedom. Expected you for free, the freedom?
28 April 2021
27 April 2021
25 April 2021
fearsome marvel tarot
O The Fool
I The Magician
II The High Priestess
III The Empress
IV The Emperor
V The Hierophant
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VI The Lovers
VII The Chariot
VIII Strength
IX The Hermit
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X The Wheel
XI Justice
XII The Hanged Man
XIII Death
XIV Temperance
XV The Devil
XVI The Tower
XVII The Star
XVIII The Moon
XIX The Sun
XX Judgement
XXI The World
Ace of Wands
Two of Wands
Three of Wands
Four of Wands
Five of Wands
Six of Wands
Seven of Wands
Eight of Wands
Nine of Wands
Ten of Wands
Page of Wands
Knight of Wands
Queen of Wands
King of Wands
Ace of Cups
Two of Cups
Three of Cups
Four of Cups
Five of Cups
Six of Cups
Seven of Cups
Eight of Cups
Nine of Cups
Ten of Cups
Page of Cups
Knight of Cups
Queen of Cups
King of Cups
Ace of Swords
Two of Swords
Three of Swords
Four of Swords
Five of Swords
Six of Swords
Seven of Swords
Eight of Swords
Nine of Swords
Ten of Swords
Page of Swords
Knight of Swords
Queen of Swords
King of Swords
Ace of Coins
Two of Coins
Three of Coins
Four of Coins
iframe goes here
Five of Coins
Six of Coins
Seven of Coins
Eight of Coins
Nine of Coins
Ten of Coins
Page of Coins
Knight of Coins
Queen of Coins
King of Coins
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