Savor Your Freedom

Out, Madness

Wish on a rootless mustard seed,

weightless dandelion fluff,

separate yourself from your day night day.

be free, chew your own paws off,

sixteen hours,

spent rolling in creek mud

with the dogs,

done too soon,

gathering rare sun blooms...

water lilies and bottlebrush

pull out the earplugs,

but the 911's keep streaming in.

the idiot words of chaos echo

re sound in the brain,

overflowing toilets,

Stop, stop, stop!


Climb the perfect, cloudless mountain of truth.

Just don't expect any company.

My time is not up!

I have four more hours!

It's all ruined,

but it's all o.k.

Chaos, you must be greater than God

Chaos, bring the pitiful to me-

Love cries, we laugh and cry

and look at the distant mountain.

I hear lilies grow there, wild.

4 comments

xstatic profile image

xstatic 3 years ago from Eugene, Oregon

Fascinating and complex Lily! Interesting goes without saying. Look at Sixfold.org for a contest they have going now.


lilyfly profile image

lilyfly 3 years ago from Wasilla, Alaska Author

I tried to join 6 fold, but my iPad work thing won't let me do it.


moonfroth profile image

moonfroth 3 years ago from Rural BC (Canada) & N of Puerto Vallarta (Mexico)

You've told me once or twice that you think I'm a pretty good poet. When I read the liquid magic that flows from that pen of yours, I realize I don't have enuff years left to even begin to catch up to your genius, of which THIS poem is a sterling example. At one misty time in the near-forgotten past of cultures, myth records that everything was One. Then came some sort of cosmic Disconnect--Sky Father and Earth Mother, Spirit and Flesh, Yin and Yang--it doesn't matter which culture you have a look at, the cosmic disconnect is there. I feel, deeply, that it is the poet's JOB to present bridges across the chasms that define the cosmic disconnect. To simply dissolve incongruities. To show the connective path between things and experiences and abstractions that are ALREADY THERE, but which we can no longer see. When we are graced to actually see one of those bridges, it's called Truth. You show us those bridges. Not always--some of your rawer I'm-pissed-off-listen-to-ME pieces are just motor-revving--but you show those bridges more often than any other poet that peoples these pages. At your best--this poem--you just plain take my breath away. Keats--ever the Up-Yours to orthodox religion guy--writes in one of his Letters: "I believe in Nothing but the Holiness of the heart's affections.....and the Truth of the Imagination."

That line could be your credo.

And what Jim is getting at in his post above is (he'll forgive me for putting words in his mouth)--get off your butt and PUBLISH your stuff widely and in places that matter. This ain't one of them. This is motor-revving


lilyfly profile image

lilyfly 3 years ago from Wasilla, Alaska Author

Yeah you,re the best I've seen. Tried to join 6 fold. No go some carousel plays a ballerina pirouettes, I clean up shit and piss, then dance away, hoping I didn't.die without knowing it. I still love it all.n

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