The choice

Life is an unfurling.

The Choice 

To stand frozen

Immobilized by fear

And turn to unfeeling stone

A monument to

What you could have been.

Or

To stand fearless

And open to the sun

Letting each part

Warm and fill and

Blossom forth.

The infinity of the universe

Chiming its echo within.

And yet

Stone, iron-hard, retains

Its unchanging self

Withholding, it also withstands.

And

The living growing

Flower of being,

In times of cold or desiccation,

Has small precious parts

Chipped away

And forever lost.   

© Catherine Blackfeather

Well! not much sign of any poetry on this blogsite lately - have to do something about that!!!

I took a friend to visit Windsor Castle a couple of weeks back. As a local I can get in free- she's like that, the Queen- lets her mates in. Me and her - we're like that! you know. NOT
Anyway- my friend wanted to get this book of dragon poems for her friend back home and she got me one too, coz I went all starry eyed about the pics. Sorry- can't show you the pics but here is one of the poems. 

Happy Birthday, Dear Dragon

There were rumbles of strange jubilation
in a dark, subterranean lair,
for the dragon was having a birthday,
and his colleagues were gathering there.
'HOORAH!' groaned the trolls and the ogres
as they pelted each other with stones.
'HOORAH!" shrieked a sphinx and a griffin,
and the skeletons rattled their bones. 

'HOORAH!' screamed the queen of the demons,
'HOORAH!" boomed a giant. 'REJOICE!'
'Hoorah!' piped a tiny hobgoblin
in an almost inaudible voice.
'HOORAH!" cackled rapturous witches.
'Hooooorah!' hissed a basilisk too.
then they howled in cacophonous chorus,
'HAPPY BIRTHDAY,DEAR DRAGON,TO YOU!'

They whistled, they squawked, they applauded,
as they gleefully brought forth the cake.
"OH THANK YOU!"
he thundered with pleasure
in a bass that made every ear ache.
Then puffing his chest to the fullest,
and taking deliberate aim,
the dragon huffed once at the candles -
and the candles all burst into flame!

I had great fun reading this at a poetry circle in lots of different funny voices. 

I'm slowly picking my way through setting up an author profile page on amazon- huh! me? an author?? wow!! Anyway- I now have this URL: so i shall post it here and make of it what you will.
amazon.com/author/catherineblackfeather 

OMG!!!!!! I have just published my first novel onto Amazon Kindle. 
I'm now torn between wanting lots of you out there to buy it and feeling embarrassed because of the 'adult content'. But I will say I enjoyed writing it and am quite proud of both the story and my handling of the erotic parts. I see it as kind of a Lesbian sexy Catherine Cookson kind of story. Make of that what you will hahahaa!

Here is the URL
 http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mitchie-ebook/dp/B00CXADBNS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1369217673&sr=1-1&keywords=Catherine+Blackfeather

Looking back over my posts I realize that I intended to post up something for Bealtaine, but never did so.  Here are the prayers and poems I used at the virtual celebration I did in my virtual world, which is all my present life permits. 

BEALTAINE


You are passion and fire, my Lady. You are the joining of opposites that makes a whole. You are the heart's desire, the life's quest for the courage to be. 
You step through the woods as the birds calling out in song and bright plumage,  
as young life burgeoning in the den, 
as the green leaf on branch and field. 
Our hearts cry out in longing for you, Lady and Lord.  Our Beloved comes! 

Beloved

Every living thing calls out for its beloved 
Isn’t the heart a hunter?
Even the thistle flower turns to the sun
And opens herself, shuddering with pleasure,
To the moth’s delicate sipping.

Only unity,
Stepping into the moment, 
Opening to another,
Brings clarity,
Release,
And a touch of the divine.  

c. Cath Blackfeather/Dubhna Rhiadra

Two books published by friends- well- one by a very dear friend and one by a new-ish acquaintance. Both hugely enjoyable and well-worth getting.

One is another Trio of Tales by the lovely Judy Cullen (aka Caledonia Skytower in Second Life).
This is a trio of Cat Tales, two of which I have already been privileged to hear Cale reading- and she does that so well. I am looking forward to a quiet moment to read the third tale. Here is the URL. If you have a Kindle, download it NOW!!! If you love paper, than I think you can order a paper copy of it too, which is better really coz you can get to see the nice pic on the cover. Hmmmmm which shall I do? 
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Trio-Cat-Tales/dp/1484910931/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1368111047&sr=1-1-fkmr0&keywords=Judy+Cullen+Trio+of+Cat+Tales

The second book is A Funny Way with Words, by John Lanyon et al ( I put his name coz he is the one I know, but his isn't top on the list of names on the cover. This is four guys who write poetry and are friends. Lots of it is funny, but some is just good. It's laid out in funky ways inside, and you don't know who wrote which poem, which is kind of cool- but I wanted to know so I could get an idea of the individuality of each of the poets. The four of them all fit together really well, there is a kind of boyish humour to them, lots of play on words and enjoying playing with different shapes and so on  - you know- that guy thing.  .I just sat and laughed, mulled and enjoyed myself immensely for a couple of hours on the train to London yesterday. Great for dipping into but I know I'm going to be bookmarking some and sharing them with friends at poetry groups in Second Life.  
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Funny-Way-Words-Rob-Stepney/dp/1902279484/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1368111407&sr=1-1&keywords=a+funny+way+with+words

More poetry from movement. Miranda Tufnell's group workshops are proving to be a lifeline and a major source of inspiration, working with other movers and creators. 
http://www.mirandatufnell.co.uk/index1.html

This one is my take on another mover. 

Wild Calm

Quiet- I stand and breathe

Wild energy breathing through.

Fire dancing a quiet flame.

You won't know what wild exaltation dances in

This ecstatic soul.

A world within worlds

Where novas blast their light

Across aeons

And the echo of the first division of time and space

Can still be heard singing in

The tiniest insect's summer song. 

And here is one from my own work at the workshop:

Sheela-na-gig

I gather

I gather

I've sown 

And now I reap.

All this is mine

Dark and light.

I delve deep

And deep

And deep.

I bring it back from

Where it went.

It is not lost.

Nor am I.

For now I build

And weave my thread

Making anew.

Nothing is broken

Only waiting.

It is not lost.

And nor am I. 

Walking

The woman walks 

She walks

A hip-swaying

Loose-spine

Summer-day

Walk.

She don't

Come-hither,

Don't- you- want- me

Walk

Nor oh-I'm -so-scared-

They- might-look- at- me 

Walk.

She swaggers.

The woman swaggers.

She don't

Blokey-stiff-knees-

All-shoulders-

My-balls-are too-big

Swagger.

She

Swash-buckles

Horn-swoggles

I-own-my-street,

spine-unravel, breathe

And fill-my-space

Swaggers.

The crowd parts around her.

And the sun shines.