Whackadoodle — There’s a monster standing behind me. I can’t see him. I can barely see his shadow….
BARONESS NO MORE
I once was a beautiful maiden.
No one in my country was fairer than me.
A handsome baron asked for my hand and we traveled to his country.
I said I would bear him 12 sons but I had none.
Even a small female seed would not blossom in my womb.
The baron truly loved me. He had children with other women to give to me.
Dozens of little bundles wrapped in blankets like a box of sweet treats for me to choose.
I chose none. I thought a woman should not be forced to give up her child.
I gave them back to their mothers and allowed them to live in the palace.
Day and night I heard the patter of little feet.
No footprints came to my door.
Many of the children loved me.
I treated them as well as my own.
I saw a flash of their father in their many small reflections.
The prince glowed in their admiration.
He was a good father.
I tried to hide the sadness of my loss.
Sometimes when he came to me in the night.
He would find me sobbing.
I told him I had awoken from a terrible dream.
He tried to comfort me but I fained sleep.
Shortly he would leave me in solitude.
Tears trickled down my face staining my satin pillow until
I sunk into the deep velvet of night.
A sickness came upon me like none I ever had.
I took to my bed for I could not walk.
I saw somber women who walked around my bed.
Keeping watch day and night.
I cried out to them but they did not answer.
The doctor said that I had a high fever.
I lingered there for months in a dream between life and death.
Once I heard my doctor and my husband whispering about a baby.
I wanted to raise my fist in anger.
Here I lie in my sick-bed with my wilted womb
Had my dear husband been with another woman and produced a child?
How could my beloved be so cruel.
I tried to turn my head away from him the next time he spoke to me.
But he cradled my brown fuzzy hair firmly in his hands.
He pressed his mouth against my ear.
“You are with child, my dearest.”
I cried, “No you try to deceive me”
“You have spawned another sweet breath,”
“In my delusion, you would have me call it my own.”
He shook his head.
His words were true.
A little flame had sparked months ago.
Strong the fire grew that suckled my brittle bones.
I implored one of the silent women standing by my bed,
“I have prayed all these years to be a mother.
Now I know it will be enough for me that she is born.
Let me just hold her once.
I shall let loose the cords that bind me to life.
I will not refute the company of that dark suitor who has called so many times
For my date with destiny whispers that soon I shall fall into his cold arms.”
The old woman reached into me.
She held my red beating organ in her knotted fingers.
“If your heart wills ,so it will be true.”
I fell into a bed of clouds.
Shadows passed by.
Low sad voices slipped into silence.
Time for me had no beginning or end.
One day a bright light burst into the room.
Hot daggers of pain shot through me.
My body rose up in waves of pain.
As they fell I reached for the shore
Each time I was repeatedly tossed back into a jagged sea.
A bitter cup of liquid was placed against my mouth.
“Drink!” a loud voice commanded.
I tried to spit it out.
Large hands clenched my jaw.
I grudgingly swallowed.
The fingers relaxed their grip.
I felt a smoother, softer touch.
The hand of my beloved.
I moved my lips to kiss his flesh.
“Rest now my lovely,” he whispered.
“When you awake we shall be a happy family.”
I slipped into a warm brown darkness, dreamless.
I floated to a waiting place and dwelled there.
Suddenly, my eyes opened.
A dark film covered the room.
I moved my hand down to pet my blossoming bud.
Horror horror I was hollow,
Life flowed out of me.
Sticky red gobs clung to my thighs.
I listened for the smallest peep.
Stone silence froze my ears.
I mewed more like a helpless kitten than a protective mother cat.
“She is here my darling, just resting, waiting to be with her mother dearest.”
Arms moved quickly to prop many pillows under my fading body.
I smelled her before I could see her, Oh sweet baby mine!.
They placed her below my arm in a pretense that I could hold her.
She opened her eyes and fixed her stare on me.
“I am your mother,” I announced.
She would not move her eyes away.
Did she know in a blink that I would be gone?
My husband spoke.
Such a beauty, she looks like you.
Is this good I wondered.
Will my image curse or comfort him?
His words rushed in an eager stream.
“Now you will get better.
Indeed what a happy family we will be.
His words drifted pass my ears.
My daughter lifted up her finger.
“Good bye, mother.”
“Good bye my precious daughter.”
I floated off the bed.
Standing for a moment, I watched my sad lover.
He clutched his hand to my crumbling corpse.
The doctor whispered, “It’s time to let her go.”
A nurse took the little bundle who fussed noisily now.
The doctor led my husband to the door.
I touched his cheek. His eyes filled with sudden hope.
“Dearest have you not left me after all?”
I reasoned with lingering thoughts still left behind.
Perhaps I should stay for a while.
Comfort my beloved husband in ghostly fashion.
Watch over my daughter’s cradle just until I knew she was secure.
A yellow light appeared.
Within I saw a young man garbed in a blue robe.
“Surely, you come to call on another,” I said
“I’m expecting death at my door.”
A voice spoke though his mouth did not move.
“I am not death but eternal life.”
“Come with me daughter and you shall be barren no more.”
Now I am a beautiful tree.
Golden fruit blossoms from my leaves each year.
It is said throughout the land,
that any woman who cannot conceive
Will have a child within nine months of eating the fruit I bear.
A Dream After Death
A long time ago I had a dream that I had died. I woke up on a bed. Next to the bed was a bulletin board that suggested different tours of the universe. I was absolutely thrilled because when I was a little girl our teachers told us by the year 2000 we would be traveling in space and I wanted to be an anthropologist of the universe (after I moved to Florida and had an important job.)
In this same dream, I was able to go to a place where I was allowed to look at my past and future lives. This was before the movie “Defending Your Life” and before Shirley McClaine revealed her many past lives. In one of my past lives I had been a very handsome black man with a voice that would melt velvet. I achieved fame, I loved the ladies. Unfortunately, I liked the fast life too much and at the end of this life I saw an empty street cluttered with torn down posters of me.
In one of my future lives, I saw two little girls, one of them me, wearing some sort of plastic device that covered our entire head and we were blowing bubbles in the water. We called ourselves, “Fizz Heads.” Eventually I saw the last life I was able to see. I opened my eyes. The air was cool and the wind felt crisp. I looked over to a pool that had been frozen solid but huge ice cracks left jagged edges on a once smooth surface. I wondered where I was. My view became panoramic and I could see the whole world was waking up from a deep sleep. I came back to the pool. On a hill nearby stood a group of sheep on a hill. I was a tiny lamb.
A Tortured Tree
I am a tortured tree.
My roots are poisoned.
My branches are blades.
As the blades come out
they tear my flesh.
A Life Story
Once there was a pink footed nymph who lived on Mt. Kalasha. She had dwelled there for many years on a higher spiritual plane. The pink footed nymph had a spiritual family. The patriarch of this family was a wise spiritual being. One day, the patriarch called together certain beings of his family most who had lived many lives as warriors who fought for good and justice.
He informed the group that he was about to embark on his 4th life of five he had chosen to live in the Kaliuga. The Kaliuga is a period of time over 24,000 years in the physical universe when top is bottom and evil is more often allowed to prevail over good. In the first 5000 years of the Kaliuga, many bhaktis (meaning spiritual beings who are progressing on their spiritual path and have been dwelling on a higher plane of existence) will be born on the Earth.
The patriarch told the group requested volunteers/helpers to accompany him at different times during this 4th live on Earth. One of the beings who volunteered was one of the pink footed nymph’s spiritual brothers. She was fond of him, he was fond of her and they had become very close.
The pink footed nymph had not been invited to this meeting. She was a curious creature and when she heard the patriarch calling members of the family, she hid inside an emerald chaddagh ring and listened to the patriarch. She approached her spiritual brother, told him of her desire to go with him and inquired whether or not she should ask the patriarch if she could come along.
He told her that she had better not. He explained that this was a dangerous mission and the patriarch must have a good reason for not asking the pink footed nymph who he called “Our Little Mother” not to join him during this life.
She left her spiritual brother and sat down by the edge of a pool. When she looked into the water, she saw the faces of many suffering people and she was overwhelmed with sadness and compassion. The pink nymph was a very compassionate being but she still carried with her tendencies of stubbornness and wilfulness especially when she felt she was doing something for a good cause. She said a prayer to the Devi (a feminine aspect of God) and asked that she be sent down to Earth.
The pink footed nymph dove into the pool and was born as a female child. She was ill during her childhood but as she tossed and turned in her bed she could see angels watching over her. Gradually, her health was restored and she journeyed through life facing many struggles and disappointments.
She was blessed with a daughter and after a few years she almost died because of a tubal pregnancy. But, she never gave up hope and a few years later she was blessed with another pregnancy. The young woman was very ill during this time. She had to have major surgery but the fetus, a boy, remained alive and kicking.
After her son was born, she returned to balancing a career, marriage and being a mother. Unfortunately, her physical energy waned and the dishes she had been spinning in the air came crashing to the ground.
She kept on living the best as she could and picked back up the pieces of her life. The former pink footed nymph met a very kind man and they fell in love. She became so ill that she could no longer work and he brought her into his home. Together they took care of his former retired professor who had suffered a stroke .
The Professor, as they called him, was a remarkable man. He was a child prodigyand left home at an early age to avoid a forced marriage by his father who wanted him to marry a 13 year old girl in order to take her dowry.
He made his way to London and became a correspondent for the BBC. He lectured, traveled through India and for thirteen years he was a Tibetan monk. He became a highly praised literary author and then came to the U.S. to be a professor at a university.
When the woman met him he was frail and old but the fire of truth and compassion still burned in his eyes. Because of his stroke, he sometimes would become angry with the people who took care of him but he never said an unkind word to her. He became her spiritual teacher and he called her “Our Little Mother.” The Professor came to see her in a vision then he passed from this life.
She and her husband continued their journey together. They had good times and bad times but through each struggle they became closer. As the years went by, her health grew worse. She found herself mostly confined to a recliner unable to do simple activities of daily living. Her husband researched everything and took her to many specialists through her illness trying to find answers for the cause of her suffering.
They moved to New England and there they found some doctors who diagnosed many of her problems. She had been in an enormous amount of pain for years and they found a physician highly skilled in pain management who helped her to keep her pain under better control.
Still, she had flare ups of pain and her health became even worse. She was only able to walk short distances, she fell, had balance problems and began having increased confusion. The woman struggled with anxiety, depression and thoughts that spun around in her head. She had many neurological problems that no one could diagnose.
Then on day when she was in the hospital , her husband asked the doctor to do an MRI of her brain. The MRI showed she had a fatal degenerative brain disease.
They moved close to family. Some members of her family couldn’t cope with her terminal illness and they were unable to provide her with emotional support. She was deeply saddened but prayed often. With her husband’s help, she endured even greater struggles. Because of her spiritual practice and what she learned in her life she was able to let go of many material possessions and problematic relationships that had kept her down.
With a new sense of purpose, they continued their lives together. She tried to help others as best as she could. She spent many hours in prayer and devotion. She became close to some of the children in her family and she wrote a novel. Gradually her health declined further. Even though she couldn’t communicate, she was intact and alive behind an interface problem. Her husband knew she was still there, talked to her often and surrounded her with love and care.
One morning, it was time for her to leave. She looked into her husband’s eyes. He told her goodbye and that he would see her soon. The pink footed nymph surfaced up from the pool. She realized that while she had lived an entire life, she had only been gone less than a minute.
Her friends and family greeted her and she told them about her life on Earth. She confessed to her loved ones that she had learned a very important lesson. The pink footed nymph had been allowed to come and go but she said the next time she decided to take a leap against better judgement they should bind her gag her, sit her on top of a chocolate truffle and tell her to STOP, WAIT. Everyone will come home soon.
So the pink footed nymph was reunited with the patriarch and they waited together to greet her spiritual brother.
The Two Angels Michael
I see you through the window, a song floats past the door,
Though Irish music fills our veins, my lyrics you ignore.
My bold heart rushes to you, my mind wills you to see,
I’m an unwilling prisoner, please do turn the key.
Why have you left me, dear Michaels, a toy so wrecked and forlorn?
On a high shelf you have placed me, far from welcoming arms.
Shall I fall to pieces, my ashes brooding in a jar?
Will you then see me or shall you stand afar?
Closets of junk held treasure, when spaceships scorched the night
Comrades in familial war, we stood side by side.
Number one you saved me, number two I gave you life.
Always my angels Michael, my constant through all strife.
Patters of little feet could be a third time charm.
Shall I know three Michaels, past steel-green slits on guard?
Build me a bridge of noble deeds, do not let me drown.
I loath this three ring circus, I fear the stupid clowns.
Did you forsake wings, my Michaels, that carried you so far and high?
Why did you willingly tumble, brushing the stars from your eyes?
Shackled by mortal pledges, your dreams are fallen to ground.
Will you carry my heart with you, long after it ceases to pound?
Lift my spirit with your tales gallant.
Face me, archangels, with wings rampant.
Slice open your horizons, don’t leave me out.
My heart stifles within, watching your self doubt.
I may turn the corner, before your very eyes,
If I rejoice in leaving, I’ll mourn for your lost lives.
With wide eyes, you came to this place,
I watched you strive with angelic pace.
You’re always busy, your hobbits in line.
I yearn for the village, I miss the tribe.
An ill, addled creature, I am maintained
Part of the family, only in name.
Is my suffering foul and contagious?
My broken body’s yet strong and courageous.
You give me kindness with consideration,
I cross the line with great trepidation.
Without a Michael by my side,
No loyal scout, no mother’s pride,
My body slumps toward bended knee.
Do you perceive this selfish plea?
Rushing towards your life and duty,
You don’t embrace a sad, dark beauty.
I made my life enlightening your load,
Now I am filled with stories still untold.
When this road forks, three paths that part,
You plod to the end, I stumble to start.
If you take the high road, and I take the low one,
I’ll be in heaven , but shall you see Scotland?
My spirit writes, I sign on the wind,
Not all wicks burn down to the end.
Wombs grow webs, bonds untangle,
Brother and son, my angels Michael.
– 2009 Soulfulsilkee
Whackadoodle! Here I am!
I’m going to fry your brain like spam!
Whackadoodle! Here I come!
I’m going to leave you deaf, blind, and dumb!
You’d better start a writin’,
’cause you’re a dyin’.
Whackadoodle me! Whackadoodle you!
You’re going to smell like yesterday’s poo!
Doot diddly die! You’re stir fry!
– 2009 Soulfulsilkee