Grace

Lengthening the vision from soul to spirit

In eternal gratitude touch permeates

All things ingratiating and forever

The vessel that houses our soul will march on

In tune inwardly familiarized with breath

Of a warm complexion, courage of my life

Force resolute, devoted fidelity

Love, love,love, oh my delighted rapture, love

All doors lead to the center of our heart’s core

Swirling colors bringing reverent voices

Thankful to the Father that gives us our depth

I wrote this poem and I felt led to share it with this particular audience. I’m just trying to go with the flow.

Thank you for reading,
Lisa

Tending The Future

The future steps in, wide gait mesmerizing

Will our people be met with grace

The starving tide of the greedy hand

Or a safe-house, built-in love to give

 

If it be that greed does seed upon our dreams,

Make no mistake, swords in hand we will stand

A love can enfold to have and to hold or even yet

A rage can wash away every slave owner’s wish

 

We can be one power, standing against a past

The one of shackles and locks to be bound

Every penny aside, embracing life’s bliss

Starving the governors, ignore their duress

Stating the clue, saving grace to the elite

The last time we sit, watching it go down

Our work far from the politics obscene

Artisans who know the difference between

 

Puppet masters may dance on man-made strings

Strings that will be cut with a slash and a ring

Hear the next generation’s warnings true

Embrace our open arms or be cut down, no remorse

– Johnny and Lisa Ojanpera

I need sex

Hold on…that didn’t come out right there.

But it’s more or less true all the same.

Let me explain.

When I was very young, I was haunted

By a spectre of religion. Or its mate.

I wanted to be holy or some such thing

I thought it was my calling. Or my fate.

I know I always wanted to be close to

The almighty. Or equivalent for you.

I thought that being enclosed inside an order

Would make all my wishes, or my holiness, come true.

I went along to nunneries and convents.

I really did! And checked the lot of them all out.

I window-shopped for suitability, you know, flavour

And questioned.  God, I questioned. Have no doubt.

I was listening to a spiritual advisor. A priest, you know,

A guy who wore his collar back to front,

But even with such strange attire, you know, well backwards, I ask you,

He spoke a lot of sense and helped this little runt.

He gave me some advice I still remember.

Advice, though unexpected, held the truth,

‘Go and live and love and seek the place where

God intends to use your life and youth.’

I wandered some and dillied while I dallied,

I even checked alternatives around,

Buddhism appealed and so did Judaism

Then I soon got my feet back on the ground.

I figured that my life held many mansions,

Rooms, you know, of quantity and worth,

I figured that I knew there was a spiritual,

Something more than dying after birth.

I figured then that love was all that mattered

And that touch was all important in that task,

That hugging and, you know, a bit of the other,

Would help me help myself and others. Please don’t ask!

I figured that the course on which I travelled was pretty good,

You know, I knew it inside out.

What was the point in swapping buses on the travel,

A travail I could then, as now, just as well do without.

It never stopped my interest, fascination,

With the myriad of ways we seek our goal,

The seeking, questing ways that many look to,

The wondering how to make our fractured whole.

But, I’m lost right now, I have to just admit this,

I’m crazy with the thought that what’s the point

If all judiciaries of all religions

Want to score and somehow take over this whole joint

This little earth, you know, the place that we all live on,

What if annexing and confusion is their path,

What if Cole is right and all the myriad ministrations

Only blind us all and conquer while some laugh.

I hate the thought that maybe there’s no answer,

That all we have is only THIS, this jumped up mess,

That warfare in its many conflagrations

Is all we get. I’m sorry, I confess,

That hope, right now, this moment, right here sitting,

Is a figment like the godheads in the plays of ancient Greece,

That faith and hope, belief in goodness, people,

Is a nonsense I adhere to just for peace.

I’m sorry, yes, I am, it’s not my custom

To be lost to hope while praying for our race,

But, Jesus, jumped up saviour of my childhood

I’m begging, even now, with palms upon my face,

Let there be a way where touch and loving,

The touch of thought, the touch of minds and hearts,

The touch of souls who even still are questing

Let touch, like sex, instil, let love impart.

Sex, you see, it serves on open market,

Does the job on even blogger’s space,

It’s hidden and it’s cloistered, we all do it,

Without it there would be no human race.

All the feckin’ fighting and the stories

All the angst, for what, I have to ask,

Who hit whom and what do you believe in.

Who gives a shit. Really, this our task?!

Touch someone, hug someone, have sex or chatter 

With a lover, I don’t mind the gender of,

How can any of this really matter,

We’re here and now and living. That’s our cause.

I know I’ve wandered off, I always do that,

It’s a problem, a solution for I’ll find.

Maybe in the haiku or the photo,

I’ll check them out with, always, open mind.

Love someone today,

Touch them, hands and mind and soul

Love. And be the whole.

love pic

quotesjpg.com

 

 

Underground Energy

Hi Scottishmomus Readers,

 

Jjjj-1   My name is Lisa. I run a blog land called Underground Energy and I am the next  guest to post in the land of Anne-Marie. In my land, we discuss life in general and  in depth, sideways and from the bird’s eye view; even upside down. I’m married  to Johnny Ojanpera, so many times our blogs overlap. Sometimes, it’s even funny,  as we each run a “secret” tabloid on the other.

 

Anyway, I was in deep thought today and my mind did some pond wandering to  wolf packs, which got me to thinking about the people I hang out with, or my  wolf pack. Because in my land we are all wolves. You see, my wolf pack is a pack  of lone wolves. Yes, you heard me correctly. We are indeed a pack of lone wolves.  For some reason or other, each of us has had to take a path that has been pretty  isolated.

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So, when the Hopi elder gave the advice that everyone should have a pack, we did the only thing lone wolves could do. We started a pack of lone wolves. We had some issues to work out. Negotiations that we had to naturally come to terms with over such a suggestion of being part of a pack. It was rather absurd at first. We actually enjoy being in silence, alone, together. Yes, alone together, that is the simplest way to describe it.

 

I think the hardest part of being in our wolf pack is setting a pace that is good for everyone, but eventually we come to terms and then we are a well oiled machine.Screenshot_2014-04-01-09-17-00-1

 

Oh, we also write fiction, poetry, novels,op-eds, the occasionally conspiracy theory, bitch about the world’s problems, mental problems, pretend to portal to other worlds, draw, paint, write music, sing, dance, laugh, take photographs with the occasional photo war, raise children and have animals as friends. Oh!, and we have a weekly music theme.

 

Disclaimer: Sometimes the trees are upside down in our world. Writers, I swear, always coming up with shit that isn’t there. 😉

 

Thank you,

Lisa Ojanpera

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“Coming together is a beginning;
keeping together is progress;
working together is success.”

Thank you,

Purplerays

You can also find us on Love Songs and Mood Swings

«««««ZOOM»»»»»

I’m doomed, alas!

It cannot be.

6 1/2 weeks felt like 3.

And as I sit

At 12.15

I ponder all these days have seen,

The plans I had

That went astray

As I relaxed, relearned to play.

I did not paint the garden fence,

Nor tidied wardrobes as I should,

I really wasn’t very good

At doing all I said I might

Or sticking to a plan at all

But what a blast! I had a ball.

And so, although

This night right here

Ends liberty of carefree cheer,

Off to school,

To class I stride

Knowing well, deep down inside,

That, even though I love to teach,

«««««Tempus fugit, really fast»»»»»

More holidays will soon be cast.

I love my job!

Footprints

Reading some blogs I follow today I came across seven words from this one that jumped out at me. What follows is the result of those words.

Tread lightly and lovingly

upon the earth,

Balletic strength in honed

resistance.

Rise high above 

the heavy hand,

Mother wreaks her own

persistence.


Tread lightly and lovingly

upon the earth,

Tip-toe through glens

and glades.

Hold hands and soar above

unscorched,

Partner’d faith to light

and shade.


Tread lightly and lovingly

upon the earth,

Inherent land mines 

lie

In fissures, faults and 

weaknesses,

She breathes 

a weary sigh.


Tread lightly and lovingly

upon the earth,

Her balance guides

the day.

Her storm of fury

in excess

Demands

another way.


Tread lightly and lovingly

upon the earth,

Night’s end should 

herald morn.

Tread lightly and lovingly 

upon the earth,

Erred footprints

trample dawn.

Matins’ Bell

‘I’m tired now’, he said, by light of darkness,

mumbled into night his waking thoughts,

a plaintive sort of fatigued exaltation,

no defeat but crushed by earthly knocks.

A glimmer in the darkness listened keenly,

spluttered into life to ease his pain,

descended on his forehead as he struggled

pasting joys in desiccated pains.

In dreams he saw a dancer up above him,

then dancing on the parquet floor of hairless pate

and, in the gentle tapping of her footsteps,

he traversed back in time through all life’s gates.

To childhood days that merged with church’s bell ring

and infant hands so soft within his grasp,

sunshine holidays and harder times when

they’d pulled in belts and wondered if, perhaps,

the work and want, the endless, restless passage,

fraught with cares and doing all he could

were worth the love of all that gathered round him.

He sighed in sleep and smiled at all the good.

The dancer danced and then lay flat upon him,

impressed herself, as light, into his mind,

bestowed the recollected visions of his voyage

and whispered tunes he’d carried deep inside.

His breathing eased and slowed to mellow movements,

shallow sighs belied the deeper well,

exchange of life, the price became apparent,

sleep on in peace or ring aged matins bell.

Light maintained its presence in his mindset,

centred on his soul when he awoke,

he smiled at love that lay asleep beside him

and whispered thanks to angels when they spoke.

Soul Seekers

Yesterday the only blogger I’ve ever collaborated with…sounds rude, doesn’t it?!…reblogged our collaboration and inspired me to ask for more. Watch this space!

In the meantime, one of my other favourite people, Mark, wandered out from Australia’s bush territory, haggard and drought-ridden, in need of nurture by a Scottish handmaiden – ok, get with the programme, it’s not called poetry for nothing! – and has been settling in to a new way of life with the promise of his healing gifts being used for the benefit of many.

We got chatting…as you do.

And lo and behold, something he said triggered a response in me that led us to this collaboration in the comments section! I’m chuffed as f…anything. There’s a little magic in the moonlight and some wanderlust in souls that seek to find.

Soul seeker,

journey far in waxing, waning moon…

 Heart healer,

words of healing, life in tune…

 

Believe then, in magic,

writ by silver’d stars…

 And belief within,

Life open, without bars…

 

Hush, spirit, listen well,

heed that aching need…

 To find the truth,

the beginning of a seed…

 

Be still, in the knowing,

Let silence fill your mind…

 A gift from up above,

a wonder you will find…

 

No magic be cast here,

Mere souls in perfect tune…

 With love and a sharing,

Perfect harmony with the moon…

 

Be faithful to the aching…

The voice that cries within…

 For in that understanding,

is a love that’s always been.

 

Catching Grace

If you can close your eyes

and catch grace

in the image of a face

ever or never seen,

inhale tenderness

fragrant with soft murmurings,

let their whispers drift

through internal alleyways,

reaching and searching

inner outerlimits,

breathing ever more deeply,

for one precious moment

infusing all 

– not one drop to be lost –

you have channelled love,

paused

on the threshold

of heaven,

looked into a soul

and known.