Basement Of The Old Ones

.
.
Below the floor
At the bottom
Of wide stairs
Waiting
Waiting
Endlessly waiting
Rooms of
Outdated texts
Reams of notes
Forgotten lectures
Where lives
Intellect
Old memory
Basement rooms
Rows of rooms
Telescoping
Back into time
Fall out shelter
Laundry
Furnace
Library
Bedrooms
With high windows
Under the ceiling
A single bed
Covered in papers
Magazines
Isolated deep closets
Or hallways to nowhere
Dark with burned out
Lights and fear
Geiger counters
Rolled maps
Of lost continents
Removed mountains
Barricaded caves
Countries overrun
Rearranged
Leaning piles
Of reminders
Framed awards
Amongst dust mites
Old dog fur
Rappelling harness
Helmets
Crampons
Moth eaten coats
Crumbling drapes
Worn boots
Stiff with age
Spiders reign
Behind a bright
White chest freezer
Filled with
Tiny foil wrapped
Packages of left-overs
Contents arranged
Chronologically
From the bottom
Ancient to unknown
Wadded menus of
Geriatric dinners
Waiting
Still waiting
For youth
To arrive again
.
.
Bear…07.20.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015
.
.

Forbearance

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.
“Be careful what you ask for” has been the theme and/or moral of fables and stories and sermons for several thousand years.

I made
The mistake
Of asking for
Forbearance.
I have
Also been
Granted
Many opportunities
For the practice
Of
My gift.
I am
Wondering
If
Massive irritation,
Maddening frustration,
Swallowed anger,
And
Sublimation of self
Are
Always
Part of the
Forbearance
Package?
Who
Decided
Forbearance
Was a
Package deal,
Anyway?
I didn’t
Catch any
Golden Fish.
I didn’t
Net any
Magical birds.
I didn’t
See any
Leprechauns.
I merely
Told the
Prayer Warriors,
When asked,
What I needed
To fulfill
What has been
Asked
Of me.
Was that
So terrible?
Now I have
Been reborn.
I am a
Forbearing
Donkey.
.
.
Bear … 07.13.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015
.
.

Difficult Dawn

.
.
Just before
Dawning sun
Arrives
Exhaustion
Too weary
To rest
Too late
For sleep
Something
Akin to
Hunger calls
My skin
To carry
The weight
Of my flesh
Quivering
Into day
Reluctance
Makes more
Effort
Required
Trembling
I watch
Dripping trees
Gain color
While busy
Birds call
Greetings
Singing
With their
Tasks I am
Burdened
With fear
Least I
Falter
My body
Unreliable
Does shame
Or love
Compel
Strength
Does my own
Pain matter
When there
Is work
To be done
Every moment
I must
Evaluate
How to
Do what
Needs doing
Without
Endangering
Others
What can be
Omitted
Easier to
Be alone

Selfishly
I pray
For myself
Please help
Me be cheerful
Today belongs
To my small
Granddaughter

The trees
The birds
Voice an answer
I am grateful
.
.
Bear … 04.14.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015

Gettting Old Again

.
.
There is nothing there
Except more and more work
Their false remorse I must
Sooth away with platitudes of
False memory and forgiveness joy

I know sighted guide
I have the needed skills
To help the geriatric blind
I understand all too well
Helpless procrastination

I am able to debate and interpret
Their deep core faith though
I believe not piles of mealy mouth
Words while I hopelessly cook
Their food that I can not eat

Just for their pleasure
I can be the jolly punster
And soothingly joke as we
Struggle to get clean and clothed
And I do the laundry out of sight

But for me there is nothing
There except memory to avoid
And more work to do
And the hot house heat
Steaming the holes in my brain

Whether here or there
I am alone and my pain lives
Within me to travel along
Company to sooth my aloneness
My love is merely compassion
.
.
Bear …07.31.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014
.
.
Soon enough, my turn. With my bad attitude nobody will be able to tolerate me!!!

Grand Auntie Jane

.
.
I know the Black Dog
That lives skulking in corners
That defecates in her chairs
Smearing faith across windows
With despairing dirty fear
.
And I know the abrasive raw
Flesh clawing bleeding fighting nasty
Closing in frantic must scratch out
Of witchy old woman’s crumbling body
Screaming hysteric desires … Oh Dear God!!!!
.
.
Bear …07.31.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014
.
.
.

The Usual — The Expected

.
.
I have been sacrificed on your makeshift
Alter of Indifference and Unaware
Offered my yet beating heart to the
Great Deity of Important Personal Interests
That you say feed your soul because
You need to have something important
To make it all worthwhile.
.
Accepted, my heart’s been chopped up
For nothing, or maybe plastic and
Styrofoam, food substitutes, and diesel fuel.
I am becoming nothing, worth nothing, not much left,
Just a bunch of rotting nothing.
Nothing else is so unsightly as the usual,
The expected trivia of an old woman’s pain.
.
.
Our Mother Earth, we women do understand. We have all been
accepted on the same alter.
.
Bear … 03.24.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint
.
.
.

Valvran – Kelling

Valravn – Kelling

Valravn – Kelling
From the album Koder På Snor

https://bearspawprint.wordpress.com/2013/04/30/april-30-koder-pa-snor-valvran/

Anna Katrin Egilstrød: (Faroe Islands) voice, percussion, hammered dulcimer, sansula, samples –
Martin Seeberg: (Denmark) viola, flutes, lyre, jews’harps, vocals –
Søren  Hammerlund: (Denmark) mandola, hurdy gurdies, nyckelharpa, samples –
Juan Pino: (Switzerland/Ecuador) davul, frame drums, cajon, hammered dulcimer, percussion, samples, vocals  – Christopher Juul: (Denmark) production, keys, beats and live electronics –
Technicians – Ask Kæreby (sound) –
Jacob Sorensen- lights

———————————–

Valvran is a primarily Icelandic group with international members and influences and having an

international influence on folk metal themselves.   This is a fantastic Folk /Metal/ Electronica / Experimental band.

This band merges old Danish / Nordic/Icelandic/Pagan/ Medieval and more music with traditional and modern
instrumentation

————————————–

Though the  lyrics sung in this recording are not the lyrics below, the essence is

similar.

These German lyrics were taken from the comments and the translation is Google

The song is having to do with the old and heartbreak and dancing or being unable

to dance for relief and death and the relationship of the phenomena.  It was all put

together a few years ago by these youthful musicians .

—————————————

Starta ging zum Anfang und setzte den Schleifstein in gang

Unten grau und weiß der Schwanz

Etwas Gutes wird kommen

Die Mädchen setzten Töpfe auf

Die Jungs kommen mit Löffeln

hr Herz ist gebrochen, kann nicht tanzen

Umarme sie, nimm sie mit

———————-

Hag liegt auf der Türschwelle, tot

Kann nicht essen, weder Butter noch Brot

Trägt Liebe in ihrer Brust

Kann aus lauter Leid nicht essen

Steh auf und tanze

Mit wem soll ich tanzen ?

Mit dem Schwanz und der Herde der Schafe ?

Mit der Hüfte und dem Idioten ?

“Starta, hast du jemals ein rastlosen Fischschwanz gesehen ?”

—————————-

Hag is on the doorstep, dead

Can not eat neither bread nor butter

Bears love in her breast

Can not eat out of sheer sorrow

Get up and dance

Who should I dance?

With the tail, and the flock of sheep?

With the hip and the idiot?

“Starta, have you ever seen a restless fish tail?”

——————————————————————–