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New Look for Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul

I notice that I haven’t completed a poetry podcast since April 2. However, as you can see on my WordPress blog, I have done some publishing. It seemed easier to publish in on line sites than on my own poetry podcast in my own voice. I have to admit, everything of late has stunned me. I have lost focus to some degree when it comes to the intimacy in my podcasts.

Meanwhile, Podbean informed me my site design would not be supported, so I have  chosen a new theme.  Simple and clean.  Kind of like life could be at this time…at least in an ideal world.     https://meelosmom.podbean.com/

What the heck happened? What have we become? I was once a young girl riding my bike and playing with dolls. Now I’m hiding from a pandemic and bullets.

Does this pandemic represent our diseased minds and hearts? COVID-19 has forced us to retreat to the silence of our souls, our heart minds. Can we stand to be with ourselves? Can we cultivate our beautiful garden? Or can we only find comfort in noise (distractions, addictions, possessions). Can we truly see ourselves, love ourselves? Can we truly see and love others? And what about the Other, those who are from different tribes (families, societies, races, cultures).

What is hidden eventually rises for healing as is shown in the response to the murder of George Floyd at the knee of a cop. Racism, social inequities, corporate greed, and other forms of social, economic, and ethical/ moral malaise are symptomatic of another pandemic hidden in our Deep. George Floyd was strangled to death for passing a fake bill, but what about white-collar crime and all the money doled out to corporations while the average American can’t put food in the table with one job? With this pandemic, we suffer from huge losses in income. Our economy is flailing.

Everything that happens daily becomes the memoir of our society and our world. It’s all recorded not just on film (owing to technology) but also in our DNA. The ugly can make us ill. As Caroline Myss writes, “Our biography becomes our biology.”

I want to avert my eyes and deny all that is aberrant. However, I’m simply storing it away, like I do old journals, letters, and photos. Some things trigger joy, while others uproot pain. I think that if I don’t see it, it isn’t there, but it is creating illness.

It’s no coincidence I have taken to memoir writing, exploring my Deep. What have I buried from view? What do I need to heal? Looking at the truth is visceral and, I am told, bold maybe even courageous and healing. However, it is also dangerous. Being truthful to our word can create loss. These kinds of shifts occur because ‘all that is not aligned will fall away’. 

I have feared excavating my soul because of judgment and fear of alienation and abandonment, but I see my life from my lens while others, especially members of my tribe, have their perspectives, which they can explore in their own memoirs.

I hope to continue to explore these themes in my poetry podcast and other wetting, and see my morning awaken, as the featured image of this post shows.
https://meelosmom.podbean.com/

©Barbara Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image “Morning Awakening” ©Martha Harris, Martha’s Artistic Flarings, artisticflarings.blog

 

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Sunday Best: phantom

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My poem “Dark Apostle” ranked top of three best chosen for this past week’s challenge, Phantom. My sister, Martha Harris, created the digital image, “The Devil’s in the Details”. Thank you FREE VERSE REVOLUTION!

FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

Dear reader,

I hope you are well; staying safe and healthy.

Catch up on this week’s pieces for the theme ‘Illusion’:

Tuesday – Megha Sood

Wednesday – L. Stevens

Thursday – Robert Ronnow

Friday – Prathami

Saturday – Jaya Avendel


This week’s prompt was ‘phantom’ and responses were posted across WordPress and Instagram, here are the top three:

Dark Apostle – Barbara Leonhard

A list of sordid memories – I. D. Bora (@mymusings.2018 on Instagram)

  1. of my pleated skirt and dried rusty brown patches on it. like maps in an atlas. the horror that followed amongst my batchmates as they giggled. ‘oh! that girl’
  2. a hound whose shadowy presence and untamed eyes trailed my footsteps.
  3. that phantom being who i thought could trust. who played piano in the dark. whose fingers so dextrous over the keys. found their way to my thighs then to my knees as my voice choked…

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artisticflarings.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

Dark Apostle

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

artisticflarings.blog · Digital Art · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Poem

Sink into Your Knowing

stone skipping over stream

sinks into deep mysteries

magical inner sight

instincts     intuition

magnificent sun

fire blazing wisdom

center earth rising

in shimmering waves

 

“Sink into Your Knowing”, revised an old post, 05/08/2020

©Barbara Harris Leonhard@extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image “Center Earth Rising”: ©Martha Harris, Martha’s Artistic Flarings, artisticflarings.blog

 

artisticflarings.blog · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry · Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul

The Wound Still Waits

The bandage torn
From new flesh
Releases wails
The wound still
Imbibes air
The scab hides
deep repair
Let it rest. Wait
In time the scar
Records a fate

©Barbara Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog, meelosmom@podbean.com

Image: “From Beneath” ©Martha Harris, Martha’s Artistic Flarings, artisticflarings.blog

artisticflarings.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

An Angel in the Dark

If I were an angel in the dark,

I would appear in flames simply

from the radiance of my eyes.

 

I would fire up candles for prayers.

I would make twilight shimmer

like a mirror still lake.

 

I would awaken you

from slumber and despair,

gather you up gently,

swaddle you in my gossamer wings.

 

I would cast out your pain with lightning,

incense your soul with soothing myrrh,

bathe you in waves of forgetting,

deliver you to a vista of light

on a path of comets as beacons.

 

I would gift you wings,

teach you how to fly through

clouds of many colors,

swing on stars falling into a sea of lights.

 

I would never leave you

in times of battle or new birth,

the time of the death of your pain

a blazing nova, a new sun.

 

All of this I would do for you.

 

Who would know more of the legion of light

than an angel of the night?

 

 

Copyright© 2017/10/10, revised 2020/04/13 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

My poetry podcast, Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul (meelosmom.podbean.com)

Image: “An Angel in the Dark” (original art © by my sister Martha Harris.) See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

 

 

 

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Audio!!! Guest reader Barbara reads her poem The Unwelcome Tenant for today’s 5 O’Clock Poem

I am honored and humbled to be a guest on Stephen’s site tonight. This poem seems to be getting a great deal of attention since I posted it, so it speaks to our concerns at his time of a pandemic. Thank you Stephen! Your kind words mean a lot.

Image “The Infection” ©Martha Harris, Martha’s Artistic Flarings, artisticflarings.blog

Fullbeard Lit

Today we are forced to sequester to prevent the spread of COVID-19. We realize how powerful we are when it comes to our wellness because we can make …

The Unwelcome Tenant

For today’s audio, I am going to turn over the mike to a new, dear friend Barbara who has written and reads a beautiful poem for these days. Please enjoy and follow this beautiful human!

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