"Nadia"
"Hope," it means.
"Beautiful," they say.
"Kind," she is.
"Caring," they are.

"Nadia."
She is the ever-hopeful,
The triply beautiful,
The very kindhearted,
The infinitely caring.

"Nadia"'s.
They are the unendingly positive,
The unfairly lovely,
The unduly affable,
The unfailingly kind.

"Nadia," oh, how she shines
So brightly, so comfortingly.
"Nadia," oh, how she loves
Without judgement or favor.
But I am not "Nadia."

I am Nadia.

I was disappointed when the electricity came back.
The magic of flicking a switch and Lo! There is light! was doubly
triply
exponentially
more magic than it had ever been.
To watch television, to cook on the stove, to turn on a heater - magic, marvellous, miraculous.
Yet I was disappointed.

That's the end of the apocalypse camping, I thought, sadly. I will miss these days.

Do you appreciate the wonder of a switch that makes all the luxuries you consider necessities work?
Do you understand the glory that is a tap that turns on and  provides clean drinking water? Or even more glorious, that allows your toilet to flush?

Appreciate these things. They are not little, they are significant.
Without them life is different.
Have you ever walked to a well and returned with water, to drink, to clean yourself with, to wash your clothes?
Do you know how much water it takes to wash clothes, or how HEAVY water is?

I spent a mere two weeks without electricity, and perhaps
another week with no running water
and each day was consumed with those tasks
I normally considered arduous
but which took so little effort, I came to realise,
when compared to a more third world lifestyle.

"I want a drink of water - I shall turn on a tap."
versus
"I want a drink of water. Are the water bottles full? Has the water truck been yet? Or must I walk to the well? Where is a clean vessel? There are none, and no hot water to wash them in."

Without a thought I turned on switches, ran water from the tap, and consumed all the niceties of a life so **** rich
in luxury I took for granted.

Two short weeks without taught me to appreciate what I have.
Some days, now, I forget to marvel
at my easy, privileged life, but I make myself remember
apocalypse camping,
which was challenging and difficult, but satisfying in a way my life no longer is.

I miss those days, I value their lessons.

I would mutter and complain at carrying water back to my house, at cooking over the open fire - this was my life for two weeks.
Not forever, not always,
two weeks only.

Appreciate what you have, for many live a life without, and your own life, already so wealthy,
will be richer for your gratitude.

My head spins, twirling in colors of essential essanance
the barrries fall onto
floors non existant ground
and simple pleasures
of conversational munch

are triply seductive

the nature that has been robbed will be returned
the love that has been lost will be found
the trees that are cut will grow

and the souls that are condemened will be freed

but it must freeze

what lies at the core of fools
tell me ,
if you could be so kind?

kindred spirits of the philosophical type
who have seen the darkness and fight the flowers fall ,

the tree of universes shakes
and breathes a sigh

all the wind orginated from this spot
eminating out of the simple
simple stop  ,

cat calls - forest walls

honest bums
sit
no place like home they say
i say no place called home

no place other than home
as it walks with me
side by side
unto the power places
chakras glow and merger
connotations
******

but the defenition is flexiable

determine the point ,
touch the joints
heat the fall
and ***** it all

you only have this time around its all we've ever had.

who is it
that defines the love in our lives
but parent hood figures made out of wood frozn in time and we watch at the spirals unwind
and the lemons
are zingy and the mint is fresh
and i sleep on a bears bed
baby bear , mother too - wolves out alone standiing o howl at the mooon
and awoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
we've come so far
on the riptide of loves handslide
handshake
discovering for oursleves what we deem humanities race
and what we deem fools and tounges
and what we deem to be the runner out run
who comes first in a race
who comes fist before the fired gun
who sits and the hollow has come.

If Fall shall rob fair summer of her boon,
    And steal the gloried rays of her gold sun,
And dreamy essence of her calming moon,
    Whose beams across the Heaven’s bowers run,

And all her sweets, her candied charms and spells,
    And all the finest beauty of her store,
Then days shall come, in which Cronus compels
    Fall to make grander all that summer bore:

To make the sunshine doubly gold and bud
    Much sweeter, golden blossoms, and then birth
Much fairer fruits, rich with sweet, temp’rate blood
    And feed with triply fresher dew the earth,

And pave the roads with golden folds of wheat
    And piled gourd, and hang the trees with leaves,
And spread with posy flame the glades where meet
    The murm’ring brooks, and where the sunshine weaves

Its silk of light across the morning skies,
    And all the flowered bowers with sweet breath.
Aye, even if the summer clime soon dies
    The Fall shall wreathe a beauty of its death.

Oh, faery finch, whose golden form does climb
    Athwart the starry bays of poesies, sweet,
I hear your voice, and drown in slumber’s clime,
    As I sit, pond’ring in my woolen seat.
My quill spills no sweet word or sweeter song,
    For my heart such cloyed passions cannot game,
And doubly more lies speechless my sore tongue,
    And triply even more, my soul’s the same.

As hours pass, upon these pages, bare
    I stare as if no passion stirs to fly.
To mount into Eutrepe’s mystic lair
    I couldn’t, ‘till your tender lullaby
Had touched my ear, and from my breast awoke
    Some passioned fire, hearing such sweet voice.
Of Heaven’s bells and Heaven’s harps. Out spoke
    Your lilting charms which, magically employs

All of the Muse’s finest strengths and spells:
    Eutrepe’s mystic hymn, Erato’s grace
And Calliope’s trance which softly swells
    In finest verse, and in such verse does trace
Vast time. Oh, finch, were it not for your song
    Nor for you visiting me, worn with age
No words would spill from out my stricken tongue
    And writ wouldn’t be to you, my own homáge.

Falling into his“Love Batter we learn to think
what really matters its a science
Not a test this is far from the reader's digest
Traveling East or West what motivates you the best

How every ingredient  makes you feel cozy
Rose sprinkle no time to be
(Rip Van Winkle) no sleepy time Chai tea time
How do we ever find the time
Telling someone to be mine be more entertaining
then tell her you really love her what's inside her

How to flatter her and give her your better heart of time
Send her an equally love letter with your love ingredients
Be obedient with poise light up her baking flowers pansies
A musical instrument with a subtle sound of noise
Something is giving you the crunchies
Her baking lips how they cream into the stem rose pink,
I fell for her red-hot, ones love batter I wanted to drink
Radiant as can be the next sugar high shot

Any suggestions
On so many missions
Love liaisons add some golden raisins
Love was coupled hands mixed eyes double

Falling for him and lifting her up sings.

Her gravity spooned angelic wings.

sugared and floured hearts angel dust.

We bond together to trust.

For the right reasons Valentine all seasons.

I suggest we get started I cannot resist

The moon shuffles wedding list

A-Couple A-+stumble

Kisses of an hmm-yum gamble

He’s hot and I am cold

Weather together eyes coupled

We stay strong where we belong

You Betcha or I will bake ya…


When we come together we listen.

The birds heat lucky red words.

Get’s easier the same person glistens.

We have and baking fingers hold.

The same kisser reaction

extraordinary to marry.

Love triply floppy disk.

Hands wedding finger

mixing perfect whisk.

How he bakes me a cake.

His easy task heavenly

love falling ingredients divinely.

All the right condiments.

Sugar dissolved love pursued.

I never in my life felt like this.

Love so crazy glued…

"Double, double toil and trouble
Fire burn and cauldron bubble."
You know this rhyme, have heard it prior
But now, hear this - my verse to mirror.

A foolish child, to do such wrong
And string your minions, too, along
Your violent acts, and words of spite
Have earned you this most sorry plight.

The shots were fired, stakes were claimed
With such conviction, smeared my name.
And all for what? So I would leave?
Ah, what a pretty web you weave.

A novice, true, but you did try;
I'm twice as cunning, thrice as sly.
Your dues unpaid, and still you reached
So, let me practice what I preach.

The coven black has since convened
(Your kind is not the first we've seen),  
Determined what the price shall be
You know your crimes, as well as we.  

The modern witch is not betrayed.
What reckoning we'll see this day!
A sickened child, a woman not
Let's mind your place, as you forgot.

You think the eye I've turned was blind?
That I'd not return your work in kind?
Behold, my dear, the rule of three
All that, with nerve, you've done to me

Will come back now, and triply well
In this, my carnival of hell
You've paid admission, in advance
Forfeited hope of second chance.

There is no hiding, though I'm gone.
But I'll allow your victory song.
I possess, you see, your DNA.
And so the distance does not weigh.

The balance calls for consequence,
So new endeavors now commence.
Step right up, come right this way!
You've stirred a game, and now we'll play.

Your god is dead, but devils live
And just when there's no more to give
Again I'll strike, my darkest work
And still again, until you've learned.

Do you believe in magick, girl?
I'll let you peek our secret world.
We know no limits, no restraint;
The power here, not for the faint.
  
No mercy here, nor bargains made;
Your debt to us will soon be paid.
You still may beg, but per decree
Blood calls for blood.

So mote it be.

Is a precious commodity,
Hard won and easily lost,
And once lost doubly, triply,
A thousandfold harder to regain,
A fact of which I am reminded
Over and ever over
By those who appoint themselves
To my judging panel,

No matter any right for redemption,
Repentence or change,
Only the justifief raging of the injured,
The gleeful snarling of the lookers on,
It is enough that a man might
Reasonably give pause and thoughts of ending,
Indeed I have had bleakness
Well up enough to drown me,

Pulled and pushed toward the dark,
Towards despair,
Towards oblivion,
Towards an ending offering restitution to the injured
And entertainment to the chattering hangers on
But my spirit is strong enough,
Or maybe I am just
Too ****** obstinate,

I have survived long enough
To see that other force,
The one that can rescue even a wretch like me,
Even the sorest damaged victim
From this dismal purgatory,
From perennial, repeated argument,
Recrimination and pointless sniping,
A veritable undeniable force,
So gentle yet indomitable,
A force to sunder grief and reconnect aching hearts,

Put aside the rage and hurt
Dismiss the hangers on,
(Prurient perverts all,)
And build anew
A better stronger life,
An edifice anchored
Upon rock
And that force

That thing between us,
That revelation that mystery
All along was love,
Love in all its glory,
Corinthian love,
Patient and kind,
Unenvying and humble
Honourable not self seeking,

Above all
Slow to anger and swift to forget
A slight or insult,
That love I found still feebly burning
In my heart for thee,
And peering through the battle smoke,
Sifting through the wreckage
Of us,

I found that same dim flame in you,
Flame I now gently blow upon,
Nurture and feed,
Watch grow back towards a greatness
Sufficient to burn old wounds,
Incinerate infection and leave behind
Hearts touched by a refiners fire,
Silver-proofed against doubt despair.and trepidation.

OUR hearts
OUR love,
OUR future.
And
I
Am
******
Glad

cultivating the energy
of inner space
balancing on the meridian
of organic growth
breathing with the pressure
of profound feeling
stretching the spectrum
of infinitely blue moments

…so as to triply warm hearts