Rising shadows of flames,
dressed in deep void, I arrive
to burn the bramble of your complacent life.
You hide inside this clay façade,
live for self in idle pleasure,
slumber in this carcass
of addiction and desire.
I hold you down as you writhe in agony,
thrive on your muffled screams.
You smolder in my odious breath.
My laughter, cackling flames.
You recoil, gasping for prayer,
rebuking this demon
and fear that this blood fire
is your last sunrise. Confess,
I fascinate you.
Though cast to the raging depths,
I still rise, a dark angel.
Not all wings are lucent.
This charred cloak is age old,
frayed by lies, greed, addictions.
Inferno flames are still divine.
I am the instigator, the phantom fire
plundering your earth
to crack open your seed
and hasten your growth.
For this you need me, Dark Apostle,
the harbinger sent to alarm and awaken,
to jolt you from trance
into rebirth.
revised The Dark Apostle 05/12/2020
©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog; meelosmom.podbean.com (Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul)
Image: “The Devil’s in the Details”, original digital art, ©Martha Harris. See Martha’s Artistic Flarings@artisticflarings.blog
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Published by Meelosmom
I am a poet weaver. I love going within to excavate the bits of my soul that need reassembly into words.
I weave in other ways. I’m also a collagist, assembling snippets of images into a new whole with deep meaning. Each collage is a poem. This year, I've also started drawing neurographica, and since beginning this art therapy, I can't believe how many new connections I've been making and new opportunities. This art form has changed my life and, I believe, my poetry writing.
I can also call myself a memoirist. I have compiled a poetry collection called Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir, which is about me and my mother, who passed from complications related to Alzheimer’s in 2016. Our lives were woven together in amazing symmetry, like a collage, around our mother wounds, our near deaths, and losses that impacted our relationship. This year I found a publisher for my book - EIF (Experiments in Fiction), which is owned and operated by Ingrid Wilson. The book was the #1 Release in Family Poetry on Oct. 15, 2022, and it attained best-seller status in three poetry categories over the next few days.
In Nov. 2022, EIF nominated me for a Pushcart Prize for a poem in my book, “Mom and I Play Lassos with our Hysterectomy Scars”.
In 2021-22, I submitted poems from it with some success. One poem, “Cooking a Life with a Wire Spine”, was published as a featured work on Spillwords, and in August 2021, was nominated as Publication of the Month. Also, in September 2021, Free Verse Revolution: A literary magazine, published two other poems from my collection, “Hestia for Hire” and “Mermother: A Rogue Dream Poem”. Kristiana Reed, the editor of Free Verse Revolution: A literary magazine, kindly writes in an email, “The portrayal of a parent/child relationship in both pieces was incredibly raw and moving.” My poem "Marie Kondo Cleans My Purse at Starbuck's" was voted publication of Jan/Feb in 2022.
In June 2022, I was honored to have two poems from my collection published in what became an Amazon best-selling anthology Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women (Gabriela Marie Milton. ed., also published by EIF - Experiments in Fiction).
It is humbling that my poetry is getting recognized in other ways. In the anthology Well-Versed 2021 (available on amazon.com), “Picasso Dreams Broken Glass” won Third-Place in Poetry and “From Your Son” received Honorary Mention.
This year I've also enjoyed interviews with Eri Nelson with SheShedStudios on VloggingPod (June 2); with Victoria Onofrei for "Victoria in Verse" on Bloomsbury Radio (August 14); with Thomas Whyte for Poetry Mini Interviews (a 5-part series in August and September); with Paul Brookes for Wombwell Rainbow (July 22); and others are forthcoming.
In November, Gabriela Marie Milton asked me if I would succeed her as Editor for Masticadores USA, and I really love it!
My husband Dierik is a musician of Bluegrass, Cajun, and Country music. He's also a wonderful music teacher. We've rescued and lost many cats over the years. Our last set of three cats is now down to one, Jasper, who was the youngest of the three. JoJo and Saga sadly succumbed to cancers since the pandemic started.
Catch me at...
Facebook: Barbara Leonhard
Twitter: @Barbara.Leonhar4
Instagram: @meelosmom123
Why Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver?
Weaver is Source, who connects all things.
Strings and threads are cloth woven for wear.
Sunshine is Source, who reaches out rays
Like fingers to heat and heal,
To create Spring, spiritual connection,
To nurture Gaia,
To create rain as food,
To dream life,
To forge love
And evolve Source.
Extraordinary is this mystery.
All extends from Source as fingers of light
To nourish and thrive,
And as night falls awake so do all
Return to Source.
©2022 Barbara Leonhard
Unless otherwise stated, all published works are the original works of the author and are copyrighted. Contents of the blog may be re-used either for personal or commercial purposes, in part or whole only with permission and the author duly acknowledged with links to the blog embedded.
View all posts by Meelosmom
May 12, 2020
artisticflarings.blog , Ekphrastic Poetry , Healing , Martha's Artistic Flarings , Original Digital Art , Poem , Poetry
Angel , Apostle , Awakening , Complacency , Devil , Fear , Fright , God , Phantom , rebirth , Sleep Paralysis , The Foe , The Shadows , Trance
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The Dark Apostle’s delivery to his victim (recruit?) captures the depth of the darkness in the image.
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Thank you, Ken! I love my sister’s image with the poem. Yes, I wonder…Victim? Recruit? or Client?
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I like all your references to fire. Europeans historically burned brambles to make bonfires. “Charred cloak” is a good, strong image, although I do not agree with many that a little-used image is by definition “strong.” How people arrive at the idea of strong words in a poem I have no idea and Strongly doubt. I also like the cracked open seed mentioned, and it refers me to brambles cracking open as they burn.
It looks to me like the reference to lies, greed and addictions in one line is an effort to make the line general enough to speak to all people, except the rest of the poem refers to me and you, that is, to personal people. Not to be confrontational, but which is it, general or personal?
As always your images are dynamic and challenge me to resolve them to a simple picture.
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Thank you, Chris! My hope is this ‘story’ is metaphorical and addresses a universal theme.
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