To soar as Buzzards, as Eagles, must we eat carrion?

Lightening flashes across my vision.
If I hold my head at a particular angle,
and do not focus directly,.
I can identify what I see.
Now the lightening lingers,
shimmers,
dazzling,
superimposed over the
optic neuritis skewed to ultra violet,
beautiful and misleading.
Sometimes
stabbing pain is the price for such glory.
Do the bees, with vision in ultra violet,
pay a cost in pain?
Is their price a short lifespan?
The lightening is from another
source,
aural migraine,
an infinite receding,
pursued awareness, 
A samsara of all encompassing agony.
Can I ride pain as Quan Lin,
riding a Dragon,
surfing the waves of suffering?
Will my brain implode,
bursting outward from my skull,
a nightmare,
a quasar-burst of light and waves and matter;
radio resonating squeal?
Or will it not?
All the while the Stars
scream,
the constant, 
starry cicada song
overwhelmed by the banshee screech
that only I perceive. So intense the
pain it squeezes the bile from my
body in waves of vertigo,
sailing up and down,
and around,
and around,
whirling.
No end to the spiral. 
Can I dance it all away,
to fall in an exhausted heap?
Must I dance on,
whirling,
screaming:
When is there surcease?
When is there sleep?
Will the cat ever relinquish
the Cursed Fiddle?
.
To soar as Buzzards, as Eagles,
must we eat carrion?
Bear December 13, 2022
©Bearspawprint2022
Advertisement

What Has Once Lived

.
.
Death is above me

Death is below me

Death is within me and

Death is all around

In the day I fight with Dark

In the night I fear the Light

My heart is Death

And my life is Pain

I shall live completely

Before I die

I have lived before

And I shall live again

I shall live this entire life

Until it is wrenched from me

Though I beg that boon

I also scream

So that no one will know

The words I whisper

Only the deaf hear me

And the blind see my soul

Those with no hands

Wipe the tears from my face

And the legless

Carry me dancing across the sky

What has once lived

Can never entirely die
.
.
Bear … 12.03.2014
ⓒBearspawprint2014
.
.

Drudge of Joy

.
.
What can I do?
There is nothing.
I can only begin
The start of almost,
Then all energy is depleted.
I initiate the end
Without ever beginning.
Spirit must fill the void.
Spirit must force my body
To clear away the dangers.
My shame is in weariness.
My strength fails me.
Where is the will?
Sometimes effort
Makes no difference.
Too much is damaged.
Too much is lost.
Too much.
So now I begin again,
Feast preparations.
For the children
And the children’s children,
I am a drudge of joy.
The joy is real,
The work a torment.
Perhaps again the
Punishment can be delayed.
Please let it be so.
How can I allow collapse
With so much expectation?
The dread is real,
The flares of electric agony
Are real also.
Pain is exhausting without
Relief for rest.
Distraction is the relief.
Words written to myself
My resting peace.
May this peace be enough.
Please let it be so.
I am a drudge of joy.
.
.
Bear … 04.04.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint
.
.

Mad Sister Songless Circle Dance

.
.
My one-eyed one-toothed three Sisters Gris
With their banshee wild-woman screaming
Banging drum greeting here at home in me arrive
They’re whispering yell shrieking sister secrets
Of mayhem and death that none can survive
We are the wasted and useless and ugly
Unwanted together we gather singing nightmares
While circling ever spinning vertigo circling dance round
Gyrating and cramping in a choreographed seizure of no care
Un-rested and crashing my sisters and I we are dancing
And quietly silently ululating dancing aloud our dissonant
Hopeless eternal unheard Mad Sister Songless Circle Dance
.
.
Bear … 02.09.2014

ⓒ Bearspawprint
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Too Fast Slow Dance of Death

***
***
Fast.  It is all too fast.
All Swirls Around And Around,
The Too Fast Cyclone Life.
No Escape From
My Swirling Sluggish
Body That Quits,
And Stalls, And
Longs To Linger
In the Limbo Of Lost Love.
Leaving Tasks
Works, Loves,
Children, All Unfinished.
I Am A Slow Sorrow
Caught In My Own
Slowing Sibilant Song,
A Droning Hum Countered
Against The Too Fast
Swirling Star Song Symphony.
The Light Dance, Too fast
For this Dark Dreamless
Dreaming Sleepless Sleep.
All Growth Too fast.
Thought Too Fast.
Song-Lines All Gone.
Decay  Too Fast.
Dreamtime Too Slow.
Flying Forever Too Slowly.
I am Too Fast For Self
To Know.  A Dreamless
Dreamtime Comes The
Too Fast End.
Never Awake,
Slowly Reaching,
Forever Awakening Too Slow.
Too Slow.
Swept Along Too Fast
In The Rushing River Dance
 Of  My Dreaming Illusion Of Slow.
All Unfinished.
 Nothing Complete.
Alone, I Slowly Pass
Through The Too Fast
Slow Dance of Death.
Too Fast I Die.
Funneled Into The
Too Fast Whirlpool,
My Slowing Painful Body.
Dreaming Too Fast Of
The Tasks
Works, Loves,
Children, All Unfinished.
Repose Too Fast.
Slowly I Am Unwound
In  A  Too Fast Gyre,
The Too Fast
Slow Dance Of Death.
***
***
Bear   11.25.2013
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2013
***
***

CUSTODIAN OF COMFORT

 

THE CUSTODIAN OF COMFORT IS A STINGY S.O.B.

 

Aga-Elisi tsugasawodv

.

.
Dear Grandmother of All Grandmothers
Please redirect the poisoned life arrows into
Our own willing Mother’s hearts.
Make of our suffering a child shield.
.
.
Would that we could take the anguish
Of our children into ourselves.
Yet, perhaps it is done.
Mother’s lament of expiation amplified.
.
.
These salty tears the briny deltas
Of our love and flooded dreams,
These wails, our sorrowing mother cries
harmonic dissonance in our cyclonic howl.
.
Cry out the All Mother dirge.
The voiced all pain together
Mother anguish yowl song
The perfect pitch of loss.
.
.
.
Bear … 08.26.2013
Aga-Elisi tsugasawodv
Old-Grandmother crying
ⓒBearspawprint 2013
.
.