Poetry by Sophia Alexander

 "My Life is a Poem Sung Free"

Team Meraki Team Meraki

Not a Circle

Spiraling journeys across the skies

Shapes within shapes

Borders inside of borders

The fractal pudding

 

The words of science

Forming pools on my lips

Lingering as love poems

Dampening, entangling, resonant bodies

 

Time exists eternally as memory

Always present in crystalline threads

Weaving the coordinate singularities

Joining past and future

 

Always the co-mingling

Revealing in relationship

 

We re-write it all.

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A Magic Moment

A surreal dinner cooked by Nature’s Chef 

An artist’s eye capturing the lonely tree on a Carolina beach

Homage to the creative spirit living us all

 

Disparate elements appearing on the same stage

Re-Call in the rendering that we are all joined,

In a familiar family, no matter how it seems

 

Mind cleaves reality into parts,

Decrying the heart’s need for Wholeness.

Our remembering cleaves us together again.

 

Life Lives So Large!

The Hare is really in the Hat

Let us hear the call

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Hate Becoming Light

Enraged I was

For oh, so many years

How could it have been 

Hate leaned so heavy on my Heart?

 

It made no sense

As the years tumbled by

Hearing “Men are no damn good”

Hissing in my ear

Venom coursing through my veins

 

And yet life took my hand

And dunked me in the river of fire and freedom

Pure love growing bright

And ever more grand

 

I live it now

No planned programs of hate

Pulling up my roots

Casting me aside like dirt

 

I claim my love

Blossoming each moment

Unfurled wings of light

The Essence of Angels 

 

Flying in the night sky.

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Part I & Part II

The Crack on the Path

 

Don’t step on the cracks

Breaks the mother’s back

Tired of that old shit

Burn that silly script

 

Rude ranting rules

Harvested with hate

I don’t compute

This cacophonous clatter

 

Time/Space is collapsing

Old lenses caking with dirt

Shedding superfluous selves

Falling into the crack….

 

Good-bye

 

Part II

The Disappearing Mind Trick

 

Living and Loving this Lobotomy

Surrounded by the tatters of old paper dollies

Ancient identities idled on the side lines

Mind dumped raggedly on the road

 

The not-me keeps hitting the Enter Button

To bring up the old files

They’re nought to be found

Cupboards bare with mouse droppings

 

My angry middle finger 

Was heavy on the Delete key

Now everything’s gone

Trash Can empty

 

Nothing exists on the poet page

In the sound healer haven

Or cozy in the curandera closet

Old Mother Hubbard will have my head!

 

But sitting here tapping keys

Following every blurry road sign

Sewing the threads of many colors

Jolly well taking dictation

 

Life wants full penetration

Gentle wings into the fertile fold

Softness overcoming my heart

I’m elegantly, Secretly elated

 

Hello!

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Grand Children

Worming their way

Into the caverns of my heart,

Like sand invading the clam 

The young ones find their way to my door.

 

I’m reaching inside the pocket of my delight

To pull out a warm, white orb,

Waiting for hungry hands to open

And cocked ears to hear.

 

They leave fed to the filling,

Gamboling down the walk,

Happy sounds slipping from their lips

Pearls clinking in their pockets

 

Ecstasy embracing my soul.

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Dare to be Drab?

Really?

Must mediocrity prevail?

No dreams allowed?

No light and shade to make curvy casting on the wall?

Really?

 

Who wrote that script?

The dirt hums and the mountains sing

Y’know

I hear laughter in your eyes

And frothy pudding flows from your cup

 

Instead, let’s frolic the fandango

Castanets clicking in the summer sun

The guitarist spinning around himself

As voluminous skirts tell a sensuous tale

 

You and I meet in the middle

Fingers groping our luscious parts

Words emerging from our lips

Kissing and speaking in alternate measure

 

How grand to find you here

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Pop Goes The Weasel

In and out the Mulberry bush

Life is so bamboozled

You and I give up the Ghost

It wasn’t so very easeful

 

Happy is the way we feel

When once we find the easel

Art was what we all embrace

The ground of all that’s peaceful

 

And Just Like that we find our way

Our lives are queer and boisterous

We put our heads in muskrat hats    

And watch the world adore us

 

You once knew me as one who stood

Alone and so dejected 

And now you find me here with you

Alive and so perfected

 

Hee Hee

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The Earth Speaks

Drink me in

Feel my striated layers and deep meaning

Give from your depth to enhance my beauty

 

We are one

Always

Not scattered and senseless

 

We are cleaved in mighty moments

Play with me through the centuries and deep waters

As I give to you unceasingly

 

Your feet sink in my sand

And climb the mountains of my form

As you soak in the nectar of my dappled shadow

 

How much of me can you feel?

Enter me now and taste us together in the same bowl

All our “pretty parts” unite.

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Through The Looking Glass

The underworld rises up to meet me

My Wonder Woman body 

Encasing me in Beauty

 

Helming my own starship

In charge of my personal path

Ablaze in courage and delight

 

The reality I want to see

The life I want to live

Appearing before me

 

The softness of moss

Rises to meet my hand

Even before I touch it

 

The sound of your voice

Arises in my awareness

Even before you speak

 

Somehow, I dream it all into form

These sudden realizations

Calling me into being

 

Dedicated to Carrots, Paul Cezanne and Jacqueline Hobbs

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Wonder Woman & The Great Horned Owl

An owl! Really?

A changeling in my mirror

A friendly pop of image on my screen

 

“Hmmm,”I say, in humble retort

Perhaps a feathered ‘familiar’

Joining me in salutary service

 

We are a couple of hoodwinks

A pair of scandalous scallywags

Flying our invisible planes

 

Seers and Shape-Shifters 

In all dimensions

Igniting inspiration everywhere

 

At first I imagined I had to choose

But the great merging has begun

Called forth by the One of the Many

 

No miracles expected

Just miracles lived

Hallelujah

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Standing Alone

A Divorce of Sorts

Alone and on the edge, 

You plummet head over tail 

Into the breath of your own being

 

The death you expected 

Not manifesting as you take the sudden leap

Instead the magnificence of freedom 

Fanning you alive

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The Beacon Beckons

So rarely, you see a star

Twinkling in your direction.

“Morse code?” you wonder.

Your heart leaps high.

 

The star blinks on and off,

Clearing its throat,

As your mind turns cartwheels,

Neurons flying.

 

You hear the star’s well-timed voice,

Anchoring you in place,

Lighting you from within, 

Flooding you with Peace.

 

In that moment,

You grow ten feet tall,

Head above the clouds.

Closing your eyes and clicking your heels,

You find your way home

 

Watching you move

With such gentleness & grace

A composition of dreams

 

Reminds me of early spring walks

The surprise of green shoots

Delicately peeking from the ground 

 

Half a cookie, never enough

However, I am 

(Enough, that is)

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The Tower

Rickity pickets

Taken from an old fence

 

Piles of debris

Awaiting proper placement

 

“Where is the architect?”

You call from the wings.

 

“The design is not yet stamped”, they say

“By the Bureau of Rules and Regulations”

 

(Even though I stood in line for hours

My name never called)

 

My head swivels on its axis

Eyes peeled for something new

 

“Show yourself,” I shout!

“Must I stand alone?”

 

“Why do you look to the past”, they cry. 

“Give up the old ghosts”

 

“Power in the tower is gone”

“Your hands hold the hammer”

 

“Pick up a nail”

“And get cracking”

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The Bear Inside

Frozen, twisted smile

Held together with mud and baling wire,

Maybe they won’t notice

The menace that is my rage.

 

I hold it captive inside my cheeks

Like chickens in a cage,

Tight as a rubber band.

Waiting to be broken.

 

Relax, old girl

The rage is a mage, waiting to inform.

You hold all the cards.

Demand to see the jewel!

 

Expecting the worst (mayhem and madness)

You hear instead your gallant heart,

As the bear in you rises on hind legs

Restoring your song.

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Being still

being still

soft curl of leaf

fold of shadow, casting contrast and change

 

being fluid in that field

no holding on

silent liquid light

 

Standing still 

 torrents of water 

passing through and around

Each and every

 

Mute chorus awaiting

Stones upturned

Clouds Akimbo

Palms of generations unite

 

Shifting beyond words

Cotton candy threads    

Spinning the form

Freedom sprouts leaves and light

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Who Leaps Over?

The Earth eternally coats herself with pungent perfume

Her dress covers my shoulders

My eyelids lift, bright light pours in

 

I’ve awoken on a precipice

Staring down the layers of pregnant fog

Still awaiting instructions that never come

 

My mind suggests cartoon bedfellows 

With schemes of nefarious purpose

Like Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd

 

Yet, my pockets are bulging with tokens

The bus driver crooking a finger my way

As heady breath whooshes me forward

 

Suspended for a second, getting my bearings

My salty fear dissolving in pools of water

I hit the switch and make the jump.

 

“Leapin’ Lizards!” Annie shouts.

Yo Sam, I ain’t no namby-pamby either

Leapt at last!

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A Meeting

Moist and settled

I move not

Awareness captures me

I think not

 

Concoctions everywhere

Frothy on the stem

I am fascinated 

Lost in the shine and the dream

 

Life has cracked open

The chick eyes us both 

A breathing stillness claims me

As I look at you.

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Nestled Cups

Asleep on the shelf

I find them there

Breathing softly

 

Their eyelids are thin

With delicate lashes

Shy blood vessels showing through

 

They are up so high

I must reach to touch their essence

With my fingertips

 

I feel them stirring

Awaiting my words 

Needing a fertile place to land

 

I whisper in their ears

Hearing the echo of my voice

Breathing into their awakening

 

Reaching into my pocket

I find the baton of the ages

Waiting to be passed on

 

A new choice arises

To cradle them gently

In a velvet quilt

 

As Beauty takes form

Her unveiling


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Life Becoming Peanut Brittle

Taken apart at the seams

The dross in the refuse bin

Pick up on Thursday

 

Coming in whole this time

The basic ingredients of Love

Assembled in a new kitchen

 

Sound becoming Light

Light becoming Mater

Exactly precise

 

I’m Here

Strong and Clear

The impossible not required


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