Welcom To

Welcom To
By AquarianM

Saturday, September 30, 2017

75 From Tupelo...

Post by AquarianM on Jan 8, 2010 at 10:57am

75 From Tupelo...

Three quarters of a century,
And you'll never ever picture it,
The King is seventy-five today,
And my radio is still pouring out glory and platinum,
I have a guitar gently weeping in my bedroom,
For the sheer joyous insanity rocking me on,
Tacky or not,
Elvis knew how to live large,
You can bet your ass,
There would be seventy five six-foot candles,
Flickering on Graceland's lawn today,
If he were still here singing,
All of us would dance in the glow,
For a lifetime,
Because some treasures just can't die,
Under a Grammy-winning gospel sky.

Happy Birthday, King.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/08/2010

Friday, September 29, 2017

A Season Of Fire...

Post by AquarianM on Jan 9, 2010 at 7:07am

A Season Of Fire...

In the mist of distant memories you dance,
Twirling on a pedestal I know should be burned to the ground,
Bedazzling and life-like though you are more a china doll,
Though exquisite in detail not real,
The memory of my deepest blush,
Object of obsessive worship,
Where I fell to the darkest cold depths of frozen Hell,
In the aftermath of encountering the reality,
Of loving and living with you.

Despite the fire in eyes of cinnamon,
Despite your hair down,
Despite the platinum sweet of my tongue,
I couldn't satisfy your twisted fires,
I was a square peg - by nature not nurture,
There was no way I could learn what you needed me to be,
Because just knowing isn't enough.

I remember the Heaven of you in the soft crush of my arms,
Only for one Summer,
All my life I'll carry a torch I can't put out,
Giving my love honestly somewhere else,
Tormented and blessed,
By the memory of a season of fire.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/09/2010

Sunsets - Version 2 Re-Write

Sunsets...

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

No.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

Sometimes I stare into the setting sun.
So beautiful,
And another day done.

All these years,
I remember.

I remember it all,
The way it was with you.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

No.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

Sometimes I stare into the setting sun.
So beautiful,
And another day done.

Say so long,
Say so long,
To so long ago.

The memories I carry,
All the treasures,
I can hold.

There's nothing you'll ever get back.

It's always,
Always too soon,
When sunsets come.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

No.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

Sometimes I stare into the setting sun.
So beautiful,
And another day done.

Thursday, September 28, 2017

When The World Breaks Itself...

Post by AquarianM on Jan 16, 2010 at 5:24am

When The World Breaks Itself...

Liars and charlatans would have you believe it's the devil's due,
Some ancient evil shame to the blame of the victims,
A tale that makes me want to spew a certain Devil from the mouth of this world,
This place where everything can shake and fall and crush you,
Oh how can we bear such an evil seed,
In the face of Death abandoning the scythe for a lawn-mowing tractor?

The harvest is filled with the blackest pain and misery,
And I wonder if the whole World isn't under a Devil-spell,
Having unwittingly made a pact with a cabal of Demons,
In service to the production and dispersion of anti-holywater,
A product of your local corporate Anti-Christ,
And the heartless legions of doom.

Listen to your Mother,
Little Baby Humanity,
Because your childish ways might get you a crack of the big stick,
She's got it in her hand right now,
And the proportions are far beyond Biblical.

If we're to grow up to be Earth's stewards,
We had best progress beyond Kindergarten,
Because the tests get harder,
And I for one have had enough dying babes,
Wailing and pain and gnashing of teeth.

Have you?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/16/2010

I have been holding back from writing about this for a couple of days, because it is just so large and horrible I haven't been able to find the words. I have my own theory about where these earthquakes and volcanoes and such are coming from, and if it's right, things are NOT pretty. Think about a rubber ball - say one of those Super Balls from when we were kids, the ones that were the size of a ping pong ball, but would bounce way higher than your house. If you squeeze the top and the bottom, the sides bulge out, right? If you stop squeezing the top and bottom and you squeeze around the middle, the whole surface of the ball changes shape, doesn't it? Now picture the whole Earth as a giant rubber ball. The squeezing at the top and the bottom are the weight of trillions and trillions of tons of ice at the North & South poles. Now all that ice is melting, and the water is moving toward the equator, changing where all that water weight is pressing on the surface of the Earth - so now the whole surface of the Earth is changing shape. I actually stumped the scientists on Earth Talk with this about 3-4 years ago, and then a year later I saw a scientific paper published outlining the basic theory. Now, what exactly effect on fault lines and volcanoes do you think it will have if the polar tectonic plates are rebounding upward while the oceanic plates are being depressed by having more water on top of them? Not a pretty thought. I'm with you, we'd best get our act together with regard to making changes in the global climate and natural systems, because otherwise, we ain't seen nothing yet. Check out the Google search terms "yellowstone super volcano". Mother Nature can spank a LOT harder than we can stand. My heart absolutely goes out to the people of Haiti. It is like Banda Aceh and the Tsunami, or hurricane Katrina on steroids all over again. And as much of a jerk as Pat Robertson has been about it, it is quite possible that the hand of Humanity's collective insanity is involved.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Just A Touch...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 3, 2010 at 12:39am

Just A Touch...

Slowly in the night,
Caught twirling slowly in the starlight,
Sigh and wonder,
Awaiting the Spring,
The world's been full of cold so long,
So long,
Every heart full of frozen,
All for none if not for me,
Could the rush of blood be the first gush of warming,
Could all the colors of the world combine,
Into the brilliant light of warming hearts,
Bring on the sigh of sweet song,
And we do for each other as needs be we must,
Melting hearts whirling tender,
Soft as an angel's kiss in Paradise,
Perhaps,
Sweet,
Warm,
Care,
Love,
Just a touch.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/03/2010

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Sculpted Air...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 9, 2010 at 1:34am

Sculpted Air...

They put it on the radio,
Soft and spine my chills,
A wonder of the human heart,
Sound is only fair,
Wash me in the gentle art,
Bathe me clean in sculpted air,
I float in the whirlpool of lost lovers,
Haunted by poetry tickling my ears,
Put my hand to steel strings and try to learn,
Wishing I could play out the winds of my soul,
Time is of the essence,
I guess it's only fair,
I've got to pay my dues,
Before I can grow back out my long hair.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/09/2010

Author's note:
I didn't come up with "sculpted air" as a term for musical art, that was done by a musician, and I read it somewhere. It has always stuck with me though, and I thought it perfect for some music lovers' poetry.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Why Poets Poem And Painters Paint...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 12, 2010 at 1:31am

Why Poets Poem And Painters Paint...

It could be some wonder under the stars,
It could be some ancient goddess from story jars,
It could be a sentimental sin,
But then,
Again,
I think it's just the thief named Time,
That endless robber of yours and mine,
The one who takes the frightened rabbits away,
Which we all become someday,
And because places lose their magic all too soon,
When the people who were there fly over the Moon,
And youth is wasted when it's taken away,
And friends and lovers deserve a lot more days,
Just like mothers and fathers and grands,
Great and more they take their stand,
But the river of time sweeps us all off of our feet,
And no one knows how to swim.



For Aunt Felicia...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/12/2010
Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

Author's Note:

Aunt Felicia was my best friend and confidant when I was in high school, she's 11 months older than I am. In my sophomore year, she and my Grandmother moved away to Detroit. A year later, she was diagnosed with full-blown schizophrenia and institutionalized. My Grandmother refused to tell me for many years even WHERE she was at. She had a daughter that same year, who has grown up to be a wonderful woman with a stable family. She's really pulled herself up by her bootstraps. She also looks so much like her mother it's eerie sometimes. I haven't seen my Aunt since I was in high school. I've tried to call, but she hangs up the phone on anyone who calls there. Her daughter went to visit last year, she hadn't been near her mother since she was an infant. From what she tells me, it was as good a visit as one could have under the circumstances. Sometimes, especially now when her birthday is coming near, it really gets to me how tragic life can be.



*Update:Aunt Felicia passed away from cancer a few years ago. She is remembered with love by myself and her daughter Tiffiny to this day.

Dan

Sunday, September 24, 2017

Gentrification...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 25, 2010 at 4:05am

Gentrification...

I wonder if it's possible to fix up an old heart and sell it at a high price,
If you'd find memories embedded in the walls,
Or corridors with quirky shapes,
Old ghosts screaming and creaking and banging and crying,
For something lost another must be found,
But where and by whom is beyond me.

I'm settled all fine in a new neighborhood,
The decade has changed,
But the memories are still like flames,
Sometimes the wind feeds them,
Though it seems only tears can wash the ghosts away,
And I wonder what Gods created these rules,
Because they refuse to talk to me,
And I can no longer pray in their color,
Blue.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/25/2010

Sunsets...

Sunsets...

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

No.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

Sometimes I stare into the setting sun.
That's when the beauty and melancholy come.

All these years,
I remember.

I remember it all,
The way it was with you.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

No.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

Sometimes I stare into the setting sun.
That's when the beauty and melancholy come.

Say so long,
Say so long,
To so long ago.

The memories I carry,
So brief and ephemeral,
Like morning dew.

There's nothing you'll ever get back.

It's always,
Always too soon,
When sunsets come.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

No.

I don't know,
 Where time goes.

Sometimes I stare into the setting sun.
That's when the beauty and melancholy come.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/24/2017

Author's note:

This is meant to be sung in a soft alternative rock style similar to Mazzy Star or Cowboy Junkies.

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Pedestal Obsession...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 27, 2010 at 1:59am

Pedestal Obsession...


When someone is your,

Goddess,

How can you ever feel good enough?


Looking up can leave you breathless,

To the point of asphyxiation.


Breathe - and remember,

True love is only for equals.


AquarianM


By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 03/27/2010

Friday, September 22, 2017

Warped...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 31, 2010 at 3:27am

Warped...

Time and space and mind,
Swirled across the mists of eternity I wander,
Looking for the wisdom of the ages,
Breathing in the tides of infinity,
I look out to the horizon and see things as they are now,
Yet when I look up or down or off into space,
As they could be should be would be,
If there were any heart in the logic,
Reality wouldn't be so...warped.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/31/2010

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Fanny's Blush...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 11, 2009 at 6:36pm

Fanny's Blush...

When the fractal snows of Winter come to play with the thorny blush of roses in love,
A chill in the air invigorates fragile lungs,
Trembling glances steal sips of wary soul,
Butterflies aerobatic fall from shocked fingers.
Threads of light are woven into tender lace patterns beautiful,
The universe quivering its fate in the translucent air,
Awaiting the determination of lips only a quantum-state away.

The heart gone super nova hangs in the most delicate balance,
Awaiting a whisper luscious or sour.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/11/2009

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Walking The Labyrinth...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 11, 2009 at 3:07pm

Walking The Labyrinth...
 
Saren & I went for an Autumn afternoon visit to Quest book store at the American Theosophical Society headquarters in Wheaton just a bit ago.

I picked up the September & October issues of Mindful Metropolis, the Soul-Heir to our vanished Conscious Choice magazine.

After finishing at the bookstore, we got outside among the giant old trees just turning for Fall. There are huge old Sumac there too. As we were walking to the large labyrinth to walk the spirals in the chill air, I was carrying my cherry-trunk walking staff; the one that I'd burnt the entire Oagham alphabet in with a magnifying glass, seven feet tall.

I caught the unmistakable scent of beeswax on the breeze. Sure enough, the bee keeper was working the hive, harvesting combs I think.

The sky was steely grey and a soft ceiling over us as we walked the paving stones, silent in meditation except for feet on gravel.

Now we're indoors with hot chocolate, Duffy, Norah Jones, Van Morrison, and other wonderfully mellow songs playing.

What a wonderful, cold, colorful, cocooned day.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/10/2009
 
(Labyrith & Bookstore at Theosophical Society HQ, Wheaton, IL)

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Darkwater Blue...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 27, 2009 at 12:15am

Darkwater Blue...

There are ghosts that jump and splash,
Playing with phantom rings,
They see right through you like you weren't there,
Staring the long stare with a baleful passion,
Eager to lay evil at the feet of some cold-blooded simians,
Crazy eager beavers with quicksilver between their ears,
Their hearts toxified and dead on arrival,
The swimming ghosts are brilliant in the luminescent waters of the night,
Arcing over waves under pale starlight,
Fleeing before dawn as the entire cove turns blood red under the Rising Sun,
Tears are coming the world over as we starve and pollute ourselves into a corner,
Soon to be left with only jellyfish and island memories for company.

The ghosts of past, present, and future scream at us deaflings - I hope not in vain.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/27/2009

Author's Note:
I saw the movie The Cove tonight. It will haunt me all my days.
www.thecovemovie.com/

Monday, September 18, 2017

Five Martinis At The End Of The Universe...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 27, 2009 at 11:58pm

Five Martinis At The End Of The Universe...

A splash and a plunk,
The ice goes dunk,
But olives they are extinct,
Thank Cosmos for Gin,
That it's still in,
So I can get tipped into drinkt.

It was a lost mouse and a sad angel,
Hanging out at the very end,
Just them and me and the synthroid bartender,
Watching it all fall in.

A black hole is an awesome thing,
You'll never find a grave marker more enigmatic,
Especially since this is the end of time as we know it.

We splashed our little pink swords,
Dashed a sour cherry or three,
Darn those extincted olives!

I put on the past glasses,
And images of the long-dead floated before my eyes,
Time stopped still they were all now nameless dusticles,
No one knew who they were,
And even if they did they'd all fallen in the black hole,
Just as our bar was about to take forever doing.

There was one star left and the hole was eating it,
Slowly and viciously the light streamed into the monster,
All the light that was left,
Until the thing shredded us at an atomic level.

There was nothing left,
Every monument had fallen prey,
Every art work,
Every quark and stone,
All that was left to see it was this bar,
Me,
The Mouse,
The Angel,
The Synth.

I laughed when they brought out the ancient camera,
We took five pictures,
Of five martinis,
Because time had caught up with everyone but us,
And no one was left to remember our names.

I cried when I saw the picture of the olive.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/28/2009

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Moon Chow - Or Eating Luna...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 29, 2009 at 12:18am



Moon Chow - Or Eating Luna...

Step careful now,
Don't spoil the Moon Pie,
With that twenty foot leap,
I know why you became an astronaut little boy,
It certainly wasn't for any green cheese.

I see the glow in your eye,
When pretty Luna sails by,
Silvery and light with a smiling Greek face,
Blushing at the rise and set.

She knows the rocket's coming,
Be careful you're not lost in her space,
All starry-eyed and gasping for air,
Kicking your tin can.

She'll light up your night Starman,
But remember well,
She was always the huntress.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/29/2009

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Song Of The Green Way...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 29, 2009 at 12:47pm

Song Of The Green Way...

Green man,
Ancient carved life,
Symbolic derivative dream,
Cast across the living world,
Net and web and cycle,
Born to die to be born,
Circle of seasons stride.

Green spirit,
Life lives in each breast,
Heart touched and tender,
Irrepressible faith,
Understood without thought,
Guide inside to glide,
Soaring forest and low prairie,
Shadow of shade joy.


Green moment,
Beginning embodiment,
First breath and beat,
Universe living now,
Timeless point of creation,
Enduring endeared engendered,
Reflection of spirit unbowed.

Green light,
Surrounds and permeates,
Interwoven magical field,
Visualization creation,
Glow of softnesses' great strength,
Beauty in Mind's unending eye,
Infinity calling.

Green way,
We walk loving mother Earth,
Dancing embracing joyous,
Boundless duty of us all,
Stewards' path soft-trodden,
Winding and wended throughout,
In all that we do we're begotten,
Future and past and mostly NOW.

Green people,
Seeking searching surviving thriving,
Beautiful and wistful and loving,
Tenure to seek and hold,
Touch with caring for all,
Walk softly determined.

Green magic,
Sacred circle unbroken,
Uncorked bottle of higher creation,
World whirled in cosmic mind,
Kindred of the kind,
Splashed from wet earthy fingers,
As gardeners unendingly delight,
Softly keening chant,
Celebrate light life and night.

Green Earth,
Mother and children,
Rocking cradle and grave,
Shining bright life's light.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/29/2009

Friday, September 15, 2017

In And Out Of Twilight...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 1, 2009 at 6:20pm

In And Out Of Twilight...

In the buzz of falling darkness and lack of sleep,
I intensify,
Literary field of ten thousand books,
A magnetic attraction red light district of the night mind,
Humanity's splash of the current cosmic,
Dizzying colors of myriad covers luridly luring me,
My eyes spiral inward like Enterprise without impulse,
Falling adrift and escaping,
Over and over and over,
Buoyed by the chocolate-caffeine rain of necessity,
A wisdom osmosis most curious,
New universes locked in my fingers,
Awaiting the proper moment of birth,
Yet the sacred geometry on the back of my eyelids,
Siren song of chemical mind,
Molecular clock master,
Thief of the third of hours,
Feeds me pretty sand castles resting on air,
Heartbeat waves rolling up my beach,
Synthetic Zen and flatlined emotions,
Whispering Sandman tunes on Universal chrysalis frequencies,
I must dive and swim.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/01/2009

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Transcendent Cigar...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 4, 2009 at 10:43am

Transcendent Cigar...

I sit in this slow place of dark wood and leather,
Filled with the untarnished pure scent of fresh smoke,
Blended pure sacred tobacco,
Reading of mystic worlds,
Sending prayers up in white-grey whirls.

This is not a place of rushed cigarettes and worried addictions.

This place between times nourishes the soul,
Filled with reverie and daydreams,
I'm walking between unseen worlds,
Never having left my seat.

This is a place I am awake,
Past going through daily motions,
I savor the consciousness I'm allowed,
Hurry doesn't exist here,
Only insight infused with delight,
Coffee-swirled with magic.

If the universe exists in my head,
I am at its center here,
Exactly half-way between my ears,
Neither grounded nor adrift.

This space isn't for everyone,
Yet all are welcome.

I study and write and dream and wish,
Without desperation or despondence,
Pages in,
Pages out,
Literacy a gift of our ancestors,
The way their spirit can literally be held in my hands,
A sacred trust indeed.

Some day soon I'll hear drums,
I wonder what worlds I'll then wander?

This is the time that softly glows.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/3/2009

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Valley Of The Shadow...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 4, 2009 at 4:13am

Valley Of The Shadow...

I walk in places of darkness with a light shining bright,
Speak of certain evils and call them into plain sight,
Refuse to bow down to dark lords of anger and pain,
Follow not any leader with raging evil dreams,
I speak clearly and truthfully,
For this the shadows hated me,
Tried like unknowing lepers to shut my mouth,
If they could stuff foul cloth and still my heart they would've.

Six years now gone by and all of you walked off a cliff,
I've been far away and gone,
Free of your abuse and misuse,
The one who refused to follow,
Who you tried to Dixie Chick,
Who you told to shut up and write polite.

How does it feel to be among the rocks at the bottom,
Your souls were so eager for visions of steel and pain and fire,
Are you any different now in the after,
Any different than those whose agony you sought in revenge?

I suppose for me it doesn't much matter,
Don't bother to answer,
It's not such a big thing for me to forgive.

Really.

I guess the real question is,
Now that you're the Devil's consort,
Can you forgive yourself?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/03/2009

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

The Go-Daddy Of All Slams...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 7, 2009 at 6:51am

The Go-Daddy Of All Slams...

I'm going out,
Out and about, Baby!

I'm hitting the Mill tomorrow night like an old time gangster with words like flying lead,
I'm saving my best writing and plotting my planning and getting it straight in my head,
'Cause it's a marvel and a maze of woven words,
Wild martinis and poetry slaves,
Down at the Green Mill when Marc knocks 'em back.

There'll be alternate universes and alternate minds,
Crazy cool poetry of every kind,
It's all good and it's all that,
I'm hittin' the open mic with poetry under my hat!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/07/2009

Slampapi - Marc Smith & Slam Radio at the Green Mill - Chicago: www.slampapi.com/

Monday, September 11, 2017

Gothic Winter...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 9, 2009 at 7:45am

Gothic Winter...

Black wool dress,
Cross-shaped holes atop the neckline,
Buxom and bold,
Sharp furlined leather duster,
Spike-detailed-in-crystal black shawl,
Snow-pale skin with black-and-silver-crossed nails,
Severe platinum hair,
Black leather low-heel high-top boots,
Heavy-woven tight black fishnet tights,
Walking the dead sticks and snow of Winter,
Out past the ancient graveyard,
Pierced and tattooed,
Prideful and hot ice,
Queen of Pain and sexy spice,
Eyes ice blue,
A recurring dream,
She was in a mall-store window today,
A shadow on a mannequin,
But I knew as soon as I saw,
Look out boys,
Winter is coming to crack your whip,
Black candles in the dark,
Hot wax and no relief.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/09/2009

Sunday, September 10, 2017

The Great Adventure Of The Secret Pathway...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 11, 2009 at 12:07am

The Great Adventure Of The Secret Pathway...

I went exploring this morning,
Wandering in my tired light fog,
Just a walk after work with my cigar and last coffee.

I've always wondered what was off this way,
Under these grey cool November skies,
I was delighted and dreaming,
A Druid finding the sacred grove.

Crossing at Myers and all the concrete and blacktop,
Slow-pacing the back side of restaurant parking lots,
Out in the farthest corner a path into the marsh,
Pavement - old and buckled from plants growing through,
Almost overgrown from shameful disuse,
But not.

All the other trees are nearly leafless dead sticks now,
But here there's still glorious fire to behold,
Autumn's signature remnant,
Tall tawny dead stalks of thistle,
Wafting like faerie towers just over my six-foot-six head,
Marsh water among reeds,
A dead tree or two out in the middle,
Sweeping yellow-gold weeping willows crying on the far side.

I walked around and back out onto the street,
Turned at the next driveway by some sad corporate office monster,
Cold dead white concrete in tinted glass and black metal trim,
A poison cathedral on the landscape,
Monument to toil.

Past that I walked,
Turning my eyes left,
Following the green mowed grass at the edges of parking lots,
Far out in the empty corners serfs avoid,
Wanting my feet on grounded earth instead of fake-stone death.

Two old houses behind the huge hotel,
What's left of yesteryear now hotel party-houses,
Waiting to rot back into the ground for neglect.

Between the hotel and the corporate pond,
A gravel pathway under grand trees leads,
I saw a great blue heron flare to land on a dead branch,
Six feet across the wings majestic,
And the path ended at the back of the theater building,
Which I walked up and touched,
Saving its magic for later and dreams.

The heron flew off as I was walking five feet from him,
Off to the other side of the marsh as I waved.

Walking back through the miracle of Autumn and places no one ever goes,
I met a huge red-tail hawk perched on the dead tree,
Center-king of the marsh,
His foot-patrol heron wandering the edges with his strange dance.

Five miles I padded along,
And now I know the secret of abandoned ways -
In this fat world all the tires are bald,
And shoes get thrown away with plenty of tread.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/11/2009

Author's Note:
To follow in my footsteps, follow the link below, choose satellite, and move slowly West. Or get out of the car...
maps.google.com/maps?q=40%20N.%20Tower%20Rd%20Oak%20Brook%2C%20IL%2060523&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wl

Saturday, September 09, 2017

Selma Hastings Quartet Diggin' On Sweet Water Blue...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 17, 2009 at 1:11am

Selma Hastings Quartet Diggin' On Sweet Water Blue...

It was the annual Pie-In-The-Sky social in Foster's Rock,
They had red pies,
Blue pies,
Apple pies,
Moon pies,
The odd cherry or peach cobbler too,
But in this town,
You got your pie down with some smokin' hot blues.

The sky was bright and hot in the Summer of '62,
August shine and a bad bead on your brow,
Despite the grand canopy with party stripes over the burning green grass,
Dab the hankie now, Mabel.

I heard the microphone howl all tingly-spine bad,
Then clear up true,
The banjo attacked and then gentled,
The harmonica swooping and gliding above it all,
As the Selma Hastings Quartet rolled out on Sweet Water Blue.

Selma had a sultry smoky voice,
Today it was softer than a low gentle wave,
The whole crowd went all silent-like,
Away swimming somewhere breezy and cool.

I've never heard it before or since,
But that was the magic that she could do,
Just dance in and out of time,
A drum-beat token outside of reality,
Warm and pretty and blue,
So blue.

When I lie in my repose,
Sing me that song Sugar,
About the stuff of life and love,
Carry me away on that Sweet Water Blue.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/17/2009

Friday, September 08, 2017

Energy...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 25, 2009 at 11:56pm

Energy...
Somehow some way gonna push a little love around,
Like donating chi in Chinatown,
Nothing too much for a greasy spoon,
Or a footstep on the Moon,
One small step Mankind,
But that's how we can truly fly,
In the split between heart beat and sigh,
No more need to wonder why,
It's all about silken dreams,
So it seems,
But I know there's more to life than that,
Tucked up somewhere under my hat,
Just a few night-jeweled words are all it takes,
But they can't be fakes,
Let the waters pour forth and rush around,
All over you,
All over town,
Around the Earth abound,
For Heaven's sake don't be late,
Out the starting gate,
It's your fate,
A little love lot of energy,
Silly me,
But I try,
No wonder why,
Never lie,
Not on this,
Never crush one another's bliss,
If it comes to this,
Then simply speak,
Words of gold is what we seek,
One and all,
Before we fall,
Hear the call,
So tell me true,
What is blue,
Just lack of the spark,
A place out in the dark,
Wouldn't be,
Just for want of a little free energy,
Will you be,
Kind to you and kind to me,
So you see,
It's all a tree,
Branches high and roots below,
We all know,
Love makes it grow,
Even after snow.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/26/2009

Happy, grateful, loving Thanksgiving to you All.

Thursday, September 07, 2017

Night Fire Circle...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 21, 2009 at 1:59am

Night Fire Circle...

The stars rise high on a cool Autumn breeze,
Sun faded and spent,
The stones circle 'round the flames as they flicker and dance,
Mesmerizing embers glowing inside your mind,
The dance begins and the drum beats strong and steady,
Winds on the peak of the hill whipping about,
The horn blows strong and prayers rise on the wind.

"Bring us light by season's end,
Crops and plenty and bees and honey,
Sugar and mothers' milk and newborn babes,
Stars and spirits let the world begin anew,
Love and life with the Spring's warm light."

The ritual is complete,
The seasons free to come full circle,
As the world dies and is reborn yet again,
We turn inward and reflect on the year and years past,
On the places our ancestors went and were,
On the meaning of home and the warmth of the hearth,
Clan and kin and all that used to be,
On the wonders that may yet come.

'Tis the time of Samhain and the spirits are close,
All Hallows Eve becons and we whisper to our ghosts,
Personal and tribal,
No matter the ways they try,
None can steal our ancestors away,
As far as we roam they care nothing for distance,
It's always us that seeks the magic of place,
Forgetting that the people there are what fuel it.

Dance on the hill,
Dance by the flames,
Dance in the stone circle,
Dance for the tribe,
Dance for the universe never-ending.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/21/2009

www.archive.org/download/NightFireCircle2/Night_Fire_Circle.mp3

Wednesday, September 06, 2017

Not Yet...

Not Yet...

As invisible as a spinning propeller,
An unseen force,
A quiet thing of power,
Mighty change upon my winds.

I can't give voice just now,
Yet hope is rising like the Sun,
A thing perhaps good,
Intangible at my fingertips.

If the reality comes,
Then,
Only then,
May I speak...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/06/2017

Silent Voice Of the Inner World...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 24, 2009 at 1:47am

Silent Voice Of the Inner World...

The speaker that you always hear,
Voice that you can never shut out,
No ears to plug and no way to escape,
The you inside of you,
The voice that's inside your head,
The secret you that only you know,
The dreamer,
Seeker and child and poet and everything,
Ruler of your internal universe.

They say be careful what you say,
Speak with love and kindness,
Words have great power,
They can rule your dreams and your reality.

Who do you think they're talking about?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/24/2009

Tuesday, September 05, 2017

Christmas Carnival...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 30, 2009 at 11:26pm

Christmas Carnival...



All the stores are lit up like candy,
A circus come to town,
Pretty music,
Pretty lights.

I wonder if the world will still turn,
After were done being good commercial angels,
Beautiful to behold except when fighting over the last "this-year's IT gift."

Good is plenty,
But plenty is running scared,
Maybe better is moderation,
Possibly a touch of conservation.

Still,
It sure is quite a lovely sight.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/30/2009, photo & poetry

Short video of the Christmas Carnival in motion available at:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ltw2E5U3aX0

Monday, September 04, 2017

The Snow and Mist Have Come...

Dec 9, 2009 at 2:07am

The Snow and Mist Have Come...

The day is grey and white and wet,
Muting the colors of the world in quiet ambiguity.

The grass still peeks up,
Putting on its soft coat,
Evergreens and hardwoods flocked in slumber.

All is slowed now,
Even the city,
Turning inward,
Seeking the remnant joy of the child in us,
Freeing dreams from modern chains.

Winter has come,
And the keys to our younger days jingle softly,
Somewhere in the misty white swirls of her enchanted breath.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/08/2009 - poetry and photography



Link to full-size photo:
lh6.ggpht.com/_zLa5vgk54U4/Sx6CBkLRzCI/AAAAAAAACTM/U5GgWm_-7SM/s1600/20091208_05.JPG

The Theosophical Society in America headquarters, grounds near the labyrinth, morning of 12/08/2009 around 09:30 CST. (Wheaton, IL, USA)

Sunday, September 03, 2017

Dream Machine…

Post by AquarianM on Jun 20, 2009 at 3:10am

Dream Machine…

A star in the heavens is what you seem,
Battered but not broken,
No - never that,
Said to a sigh from millions of lips,
Released helplessly.

I can't believe you're a dream machine,
I can't believe the life you've seen,
A fairy-tale-on-Earth rock n' roll queen,
Wandering the garden like an angel you set the scene.

You set your sights like a child and never let go,
As you flow across our world like a legend of the mists,
Some spell you cast long ago came true,
Starburst in neon, lasers, and song.

I can't believe you're a dream machine,
I can't believe the life you've seen,
A fairy-tale-on-Earth rock n' roll queen,
Wandering the garden like an angel you set the scene.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 06/20/2009

(A tribute to Stevie Nicks)

Saturday, September 02, 2017

The Pool Dragon...

The Pool Dragon...



I'm swimming on my back,
Backwards,
Going for the first mile,
Looking up past the palm trees,
Way up beyond the lights in the blue blue pool,
Those charcoal clouds,
Changing shape as I beat a steady backstroke,
Washing thin over the bright white Moon,
Shape of a huge dragon across two-thirds the sky,
That baleful Moon is its staring eye,
Watching insect me scoot back-and-forth,
Turning its cloud head this way and that,
Or is it Thunderbird,
Watching,
Watching,
Three nights now,
I keep on my mission,
Yet wonder what is coming,
Why am I this week's show?

Swim for it buddy.

Swim for it.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/02/2017

Isn't It Iconic...

Post by AquarianM on Jun 25, 2009 at 11:57pm

Isn't It Iconic...

She was the darling of 140 million teenage bedroom walls,
Even mine,
The queen of the 70's flowing tresses,
The heartthrob of a generation,
A glowing smile super nova bright jiggling delight.

He was the bad-boy space alien,
The Mad Dancer in a plastic hat,
The boy wonder gone berserk,
A 70's goose bump richer than Trump,
One bad-ass apple with badder appetites.

They died on the very same day,
And all the icons of the 1970's are hollowed out.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/26/2009

R.I.P. Farrah & Michael.

Friday, September 01, 2017

Firefly Park...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 6, 2009 at 10:30pm

Firefly Park...

The Moon full and glowing silver.
Stars and planets shine,
The Season is Summer warm and humid.

I read of art and think to paint again,
Breach all the colorless barriers that surround me,
False walls of wisdom so heartless.

The lords and ladies of lightning dance the skies tonight,
Flickering greenish yellow among grass and oak and maple,

Childhood friends I look to every season.

As the Spring blossoms wilt and fade,
I understand that we all long for more than our short season,
This being the root of all fears of change.

Could we glow season after season,
Chasing dreams of love amid dancing fireflies,
The rustle of grasses at our feet in the breeze.

Write and paint and play your music!

Never stop,
Except to witness the Fireflies dance.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/06/2009