Prose; Publishing Joy


I feel like my baby is about to go off to college.

I’m about to publish my first book and it’s almost time to let it go,

No longer able to control where it goes in the ethers,

Out into the world, warts and all,

Fresh, innocent, never having smelled a book store (yeah right)

Never having gone through the digital or paper mill…

Does that hurt?

My memories, feelings, occurrences, family secrets, pictures,

losses, dates, intimacies, grandparents, babies lost, tears cried,

Oh my god!!!!  Why did I write this memoir????

Stop the presses!  I can’t do this!!!!

I can’t put all of the truths of my life out into the public for perusal and criticism!

Not that anyone will care…but my life has been interesting hasn’t it?

I wrote it so it sounded interesting….yes I did.

Why did I listen to my FRIEND????  She said, “Lisa, write a memoir”

after hearing me tell stories.

Well, what if no one ELSE is the least bit interested?

This is nail-biting territory if anyone reads it.

I seriously do have many mind-bender stories.

What if people think I’m nuts?

There’s no such thing as bad press.

I’m just…a little nervous I guess.

impublishingmymemoir

 

 

Prose; Between The Cracks


walking-on-a-piano

Between the cracks of the piano keys, where the quarter and eighth tones lie, invisible gems are to be found.

Whole tones (normal notes) have no business here…no one likes them… they just seem whole, they’re really broken; like a million notes in smudged ink all over the page.

I long for these sounds to break the cacophony around me.  Dissonance? They are consonant to me.  They fill my cup in a parched closet, old wood, dry and brittle, thirsting for moisture.  Dusty, unpopular, unseen, unheard by most human ears…

I love those places.  Ah…let me sleep there.

“Grand Opening Here”, I run the other way.  I’ll come in the middle of the night thank you-when no one is around but the ghost of my Grandpa, and maybe his friend with him.  I can write then. Dusty basements, hidden shops, in-between dimensions, cracks, and mortice hide the doorways.

I long for these places to break up the routine of my day. 

Little antique stores, old forgotten thrift stores where mom & pop still sit in the chair from 1926, gems are to be found.  Patina so thick you can taste the smell of it, musky, soil, brackish dark. Cobwebs everywhere-but it’s all new to me.

I’m looking, for…my friend…a part of my soul that is tragically invisible to the surface dwellers, so odd, so unexpected that it thrashes my back.  So impossible, so inconvenient, so much…so very good!

It feels eternally old and yet new to me; New to me because it doesn’t “fit” in my brain; in my plan.  My well ordered, hip, sharp, cerebral, sassy, punkish, cavalier brain brutishly, insensitively mocked your old stories, your tradition, your nostalgia, your mischief.  I’m not really laughing.  I just really, really like the texture of it all-and you.

It has been said, “Your heart is a fickle leader!”  Then I am the crumbs in the bottom of the toaster-like the host crumbs in “the cup”.  Drink me.  I am altogether undone.  So be it…

Move to the old that is new!

Take a leap…what seems old is new, what seems new is old.  What’s up is down??

It just is.

It aches to feel like a foreigner in my own planet…Always seeking a creative space that is misunderstood, mysterious, and forgotten.

Gorge on my grief and run for cover then…

Nothing is lacking; ever…all of it.  The devil is in the details they say.  His ears shriek when he hears quarter tones and eighth tones between the cracks; and time is no more.  When the notes become whole, he is undone.

2/14/10

 

 

Prose; Shadow


 

beautiful tree

I obscure my darkness to walk through life content, shadow feelings under the bed.

Convoluted darkness just below my navel only, my prescient dreams adumbrate what my body holds in, refusing to release its undulating grasp like a cranky child crying, needing attention and touch.

Male progenitor, emotional vampire and…ironically, my ally as a bridge to freedom in the face of neglectful, unfeeling, autocratic child-bearer.

Tremulous adolescence, when the course succor so needed is vacuous at best,

Cynical vexation felt so keenly in their insensitivity to my easily affected, young, psychic heart. They didn’t even know what the fuck psychic was because it wasn’t in the bible.

What could I have been?

What happy life could I have had if their crispy, mucous eyes had been open a crack?

That shadow feeling could spiral me down so quickly if I focused on it, so I only do it here

for release…because it’s bullshit, and my life is not bullshit, so I’m not filling it with that.

What is more helical bullshit that parental ignorance with an innocent, lovely child born in light and returning to light?

How twisted and contorted can adults get following societies rules, books, beliefs, and materialistic hysteria when they have in front of them a free soul, their child, needing only love by degrees, free roam by yards, food by weight and expression without limit?

The shadow of light is a contrast as a lesson

I’m using it to soar to the heights,

To rip asunder familial right to the soul of a child.

No more,

Whether in love or delusion

each child belongs to themselves only.

Just as roots do not dictate how far, wide and what direction a tree will grow,

so too, shadow roots deep below the ground only hold it in place while the wind, sky, and sun call us ever higher to dance with all of life above ground, storm and calm, for as long as we wish to live.

I hail from you but I am not you.

Feb. 8, 2017, Yellow 13 Warrior

 

Prose; Skin


pick a tomato

The shell of a turtle, a carapace, guards your continuance of electric water, straight to your brain, pulls your vibration down in by degrees.

Your skin like a husk full of ridges on corn smells sweet,

hard to pull off at the bottom, tassles so soft on my face, the smell of earth.

Your arm was warm and pleasant as the first tomato of summer in my hungry hand.

Let me bite into that luscious fruit, so sweet and tangy

 or a mango stream of juice down my chin.

I’m distracted, clement smells from your back

Why are so sweet yet so smart and severe?

No end to touch makes my breathing peaceful.

I feel happy…oh god I’m doomed.

Indeed, it only lasted one day and you ripped your skin from me again.

At least you can’t take the memory from me.

Words can never erase actions like skin can never cover feelings.

 

Essay; No Thank You. My Response to ~ Dina Leygerman, 2017 attitude about the Women’s March


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Synchronicity; What is your Birth Gateway?



Anyone who wants to input their full birthday into the Tzolkin Day Calculator, just go to the site at the link below. At the top is a rectangle. Click on the rectangle on this page that says “Dreamspell Calculator.”

Tzolkin Day Calculator

Scroll down the page until you see where you input your birthday.
Your Tzolkin Themeplex will then pop up. Now, go back to the first page. Find the name of your archetype on the huge list, click on that, and there is much great reading about your multi-dimensional self.

There are also a few apps you can add to your phone. Just search online.

If you’re interested in a full chart you can order it. Just email me. They take me about two hours to do and the fee is $100.00.

I will add it to the shop page soon.

Essay; Bashing the Women’s March?


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Essay: Everyday Spirituality; How I Hook Up To Source Energy (Freebie)


I have simplified this in 2025. I will blog on it soon.

fall leaves

Well, first off, as it is on Earth for most people, the losses, traumas, and deaths pile up to the point where you might not want to be here anymore. I’m just being honest. Sometimes we all feel like it’s ridiculous.

Then I check in with myself and say, “Nope, I m still having fun, enjoy my body, sex, food, friends, my son, my work, the seasons, music, you name it.”

My question in the midst of it is, “How can I make sense of this suffering I witness most others going through and my own?” The first thing I do is realize were all in this together. No one, anywhere, is immune from the soul lessons here. I don’t believe in fortunate or unfortunate, lucky or unlucky. Don’t ya think we make our own fortune by our choices? It’s a big well we can dip into with our mind and heart. When I dip into that well, that’s how I connect to Source.

It’s universal to want to connect emotionally and physically to others. I feel that is an inclination from Source and I let my body feel it. Making art together, cooperating, joining together for a just cause. All of that connects us to Source because Source is in us.

I don’t recommend feeling sorry for yourself for too long or you won’t get the wisest use out of your limited time in the body. Everyone goes through the dark night of the soul. You could use that experience to grow. Feel the depth of it, go into those emotions and what other people think of your “negativity” be damned while you’re figuring it out. I did it by myself and called on my friends. I didn’t use a counselor, although you could. I journal and I wrote a book.

I’ve been hooking to Source energy every day for about 25 years now in all of those varied ways. I make sure I live in a peaceful, non-violent environment. I eat well and exercise so I like my body and can feel its rhythms. In this way, I can watch my breath as I close my eyes and drop my mental focus. Now I pay attention to every body part starting at the head and going down. I have a body balancing technique I use that includes color and Reiki.

I affirm to Spirit/God that I m here to serve and love all life.

I affirm that I promise to love myself as best I can in order to do that.

I give myself permission to detach from people that are not loving or loving to me or don’t like me, then do something called “bless and release” instead of cursing or hating them. If I focus/pray about one person, a flood of intuitions come in about that person because I am in receive mode from Source.

I see people and events unfold like a movie and it’s been happening all of my life. I note all of that in my memory.

I wish well for everything in front of me no matter what state it’s in.

I ask for a revelation on specific issues on which I have a question and always listen for the answer. The universe knows I listen and respect them💜. They impart information to those that believe and listen.

So, love and take care of yourself, join with others doing something creative that you love, accept that everyone goes through a dark night of the soul and you’re not alone, have as much freaking sex with whoever you want to stay healthy, and follow your intuition. Don’t hesitate to walk away from people who don’t get you or don’t like you. You’ll know because you’ll feel bad around them.

You can rampage it on this planet and be free. It’s not worth it to follow, obey, or sit it out because it’s going to be over before long anyway.