The Myth Maker

I am a God lover
I am the folk artist
I am the story
I am the myth-maker

I walk in the light and dwell in the shadow
I am Poseidon’s lover
Apollo’s chariot
I am the road less traveled
And the footprints upon it
I am the myth-maker

I am the tree of enlightenment
I am the eternal water that feeds it
I am a God lover
I am the Phoenix and the fire
I am the myth-maker

I am Shiva
The daughter of Zion
I am the Lady of the Lake
I am the Lamb
I am the bed of P’an-Chin-Lien –
I am the Immaculate Heart

I am calm and chaos in perfect balance
Dancing through space
Spinning in time
On the head of a needle you can not pass through
I have fallen through the crack
of Hades, rescued by the
Sword of Michael
I am the Serpent and I am the Garden

I come from the dream time
And will return to the Father
Pacha- mama is my Mother
The Great Spirit my breath
I am the word and the wind
Who will hear my voice?

I am the myth-maker
I am the storyteller
I am a God lover

I am----


bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2009


Posted for One Shot Wednesday -where poets and writers meet

Indigo Nights

there is a love so deep, so rare
impenetrable by moon or stars-light
known only to purest of lovers
in the place christened Indigo Nights

where none but subtlest breathing
or heartbeat so temperate and slight
can be sensed by those dead or those living
in the mysteries of Indigo Nights

forever unseen by wanderer
in tomorrows or reflector of wrong versus right
supreme in the silence of loves moment
caressing the essence of an Indigo Night

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010


This is posted for Alphabe-thursdays - Rainbow Summer School - Indigo..forever unseen to the wanderer

The Nights Wings

I left Walden Pond

and met you near the wood

you stood between

the moss and morning

in the shadow of the crest

there was a moment

one moment

where I could sense

more than I could see

my vision altered

by the pure completeness

I felt in loving thee

what sense- this sensibility?

worth a mere mortals thought-

if timelessness

not past through

with life’s full measure

left unsought

most travelers find no rest –

on such a road

without formal bedding

said I to the Raven –

“Call the night,

and this forest becomes my heaven.”

bkmackenzie

copyrighted 2008

Posted for the Poetry Pantry at Poets United

Lady of the Water

What shore holds thee?
Is it near?
What name calls thee?
Is it fear?
What house bears the dwellers name?
Is its threshold crossed with blame?

Is it the ocean you awaken to?
Is it the voice you listen for?
Is it the dwelling place of your soul?
The wind asked no more
I let it go ---

The steps we take are forever cast
Set in the lines we label past
Joy and tears of written pages
Never read but in the dreams of sages
On nightly passage to eternity
Invisible to those that claim to see -

I dreamt of an ocean filled with souls
Known only to the Lady of the Water
Held willing in her lul-la-bies flow
effortlessly - through the ebb and tide of hereafter-
What shore holds thee?
She asked me once –
I do not know. I answered calmly
What name calls thee?
She asked me twice -
I do not know. I answered solemnly
What house bears your hearts name?
I do not know. I answered -Please, do not ask again.

I awoke to an ocean calm by measure
I called to the Lady within its water -
The voice I heard was but my own
The threshold I crossed bore a name
unknowable to all who crossed for gain

The water rose
The tide came in
My soul gave rise
to the lady therein -

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2009

Posted for Poets United Think Tank Thursday #12 - Water

A Tap on the Door...

like a tap on your door
i come to you, like a tap on your door in twilight
with prayer and a kiss you beg me be more;
"be more...
than just a tap on my door in the night"

like a step through your room
i come to you , like a quiet stepping through time
with a touch and a breath you beg me be more;
"be more...
than just a step though my room in the night"

like the light of the moon
i come to you, like the fullest moon comes subtle and bright
and shines on four posters you beg me be more;
"be more...
than love, be my lover that comes in the night"

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010


Magpie Tales #29 ---- Sorry,  I am a hopeless romantic....bkm

Wing and Sail

have you ever imagined a sky so blue
and wings so long and wide - carrying you off to worlds
unknown across that royal blue sky

have you ever imagined a sea so vast
with masts so tall and white - sailing you off to worlds
unknown across that vast, vast sea
where sail meets sky and blue meets blue and wing
meets a ship called Destiny...

where life is mapped to pages - set to sea and bluest sky
and tales of future history
unfold (imagine)
as wing and sail
soar by

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010


Posted for Alphabet-thursday Rainbow Summer School....Blue

The Message

an unmarked page lies on the floor
on the table a dryed out pen
thoughts weep from the stone wall
staining the mosiac

a crack in the door, reveals only
eyes seeking truth
as bells ringout to the blessed
there is no ear - to hear..


Hermes has gone missing....


bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010


Posted for One Shot Wednesday...

August Moon

August Moon
What do you know
Of which I should be aware
As these later days of summer
Permeate the succulent harvest air

The Perseids spark and dance
Across your midnight sky
While on silhouetted oak you rest
Accounting for each shooting star
As it silently passes by
Could each starry spark
Be a fairy
Of the Autumn clan
Secretly packing Autumn’s color
Preparing for September’s hand

And as you slowly shut your eye
And quietly hide your August face
Will you grant us just one - last summer blessing
Before September Moon
Awakens to take your place --

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2009
 
 
 
Posted for the Poetry Pantry at Poets United... wrote this one last August and thought this being the end of August with a full moon...it would the one to post....bkm

Tapping Toes

The value of a rhythm is in the beat, in the sound

with the tapping of the toes

tapping to the soul oozing through the ground

that deep cajun sound...

A horn belting through a dancing town; downing

saintly rhythms; restless souls, walking

New Orleans bound....tapping, tapping

listening to that soul, tapping as it goes; a pearly gate,
golden gates bound rhythm.. souls marching on

born, born to dance,
singing give me all night long

tapping, tapping all night long, to a Louisiana horn

til' early morn 

and those toes go on tapping, go crying mama
go crying daddy, go crying

hal-le-lu-jah all the way home

bkmackenzie

copyrighted 2010

Posted for Magpie Tales #28....

pure laughter

your laughter
held me
like a tea leaf
swirling in a china cup...
absorbing pure honey
with no thought
of the bees sting....

bkm
2010

The Russian teacup - Oil on canvas panel (6" x 8") by Benoit Philippe

Summer Green

the rice fields are green in August

long and green

beneath summer sky

come September

they fade towards brown

but they are green in August

June and July

an ocean of green carpets the valley

a playground

 for bird and sharp eye

the heron,

 the egret,

 the mallard

can be captured flying

between the green and summers blue sky

the rice fields are green in August

 greener than in June and July

come September

as it gets close to harvest

they will fade brown

waving summer goodbye...

bkmackenzie

2010

Posted for Alphabe-thursday summer school Rainbow Green

green was a hard one (these are the Sutter Buttes in Northern Cal - a few miles from where I live)

 

The Spell

What if Plank's Constant was not constant?
What if Einstein’s God really did play dice?
What if space did not exist and time was no more?

then telling time became a chore
for it stood still and was no more
no more,
what hand could open this timeless door?

its latch frozen from unsweetened tears,
waiting on un-passing years
waiting by the frozen door -

“Not only does God play dice but, ..sometimes he throws them where they can not be seen.”
Stephen Hawking

in dream I fell,
I fell away
to a place not known -
where day moved into night,
and night gave birth, to warmth
to warmth and light

“--- the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.
And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.” Genesis 1:2

seasons passed
and waters flowed,
flowed
to a land called Long Ago-
to the time
that was no more, no more -

light warmed
the unsweetened tears,

sweetening

the passing

of the un-passing years

“What really interests me is if God had any choice in the creation of the world.”

A. Einstein

freeing the latch,
the Spell was broken,
with the Spell broken -
Time began -
and the door was opened

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2008

Originally wrote this without the quotes...but they seem to add an extra dimension to the piece...what do you think?...bkm

Posted for One Shot Wednesday....

Shadows

some shadows just walk past me
never an indication of what
or who they are looking for; need I ask
these shadows their intent?  I say not, not
that I care as long as it be not my sacred space
they want to occupy
in this room; there is more than enough
room for all of us - let them then keep to their
own corner and let them keep to themselves
their intent - I have words to write
before the sun moves all of us
into another room
for night...

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010

Remain

lacking sail

here i will remain

in paradise

bkm

Posted for One Shoot Sunday

The First Day

the ancestors watched as their world died

the waters stopped flowing

the mountains turned to rust

they died too..

the Great Shaman fell into a sleep
out of sorrow

for all that was lost

his sleep spanned half an eternity

he dreamed of the ancestors
they were crying many tears..

as he awoke
from his dreaming
he yawned across the universe

his breath surrounded the silent world
of the ancestors

the planet began to bleed again
blue waters

and it was good..

 this happened

on the first day

of the Great Shaman's Awakening

bkmackenzie

copyrighted 2010

posted for Magpie Tales #27

Writer's Grail Quest

Words opening windows
where the soul takes flight
like Wendy trusting Peter
exiting into night

There freedom finds the writer
and not so holy ghost
upon a course of travel –
qualified as quest; And the

Percival you thought you were
comes face to face
no less -
with a clock – in a crock -
in a place called
Neverland at best

The Grail so coveted
so lost -
a piece of gold
a cup unfilled –

Stands silently
on a Captains plank
unreachable by hook alone -
unthinkable except by heart –

That first
believed in the words -
placed on the paper from the start

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2008

Posted for the Poetry Pantry at Poets United

Heading Home

Just spent three fabulous days in Victoria BC...the weather was perfect, sad to be leaving Canada (but the good news is I fed my hockey addiction with a few great purchases), thank you Canada...bkm

The County Vicar

He was the county Vicar
The county knew her as the forbidden fruit
He was intent on saving her soul from the fires of hell
She bore her own heavenly intention

Every morning he passed by her garden gate
boasting thistles and morning glory at the feet of hollyhocks in bloom
He kept step to the straight and narrow path that framed his existence
She was methodical in paving a stone path straight to her doorstep

Finally she conceded to a confession
He stepped across the stones towards a pot of chamomile tea and thistle honey cakes
The hall clock ticked to her heart beat
and she poured out more of the warmth tea provided

As the sun moved its face through the room
the fragrance of forgiveness permeated the summer air
She fell to her knees in front of him
placing her brow upon his linened lap

His hands graced the red locks flowing with unbridled will
He began to weep out loud
She forgave him...



bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010

posted for One Shot Wednesday at One Shot Poetry

The Librarian

That madam librarian you were looking for
just left the building –

I refuse
to categorize my men by
the dewy decimal system, that
would mean having to sort and shelve-

I prefer instead
to cherish a good read
then donate the hardback
to charity –

bkmackenize
copyrighted 2008

Posted for the Poetry Pantry's second chance poems at Poet's United.

Gather the Water Can

Magpie Tales #26

let us gather the water can

it sits on the garden wall
it has been sitting there all summer
i recall - since
our walk now months ago

we will need to store it now
before fall winds and winter's snow
i know we have another - that appears to serve us well,
but the old one is my favourite
darling, that you can surely tell

let us together head to the garden
to gather the water can -
it was the first one that you bought me
remember, when the garden's youth matched ours
then too you would accompany
me to the garden

where we gathered love
for endless hours...

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010

Note:  I will be traveling most of next week - so I do not know if I will be able to check in on everyones tale ...will do my best as time permits......blessings to everyone....bkm

Ode to a Yellow Bird

between my heart and Scriptured word
sits my love for a yellow bird
that lives on branch
beneath my sill
with blackest eye, and black black bill

when he speaks
it breaks my will and lightens all that appears obscured
a song to sweet i have never heard
comes from the breast
of a yellow bird

as summer days now slip away
and frosted nights dress soon unfurled
i breathe in the notes as if to sing
the love known since
christened
by a blessed spring

and a yellow bird beneath my sill
with blackest eye, and black black bill


bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2010

Posted for Alphabe-Thursday - Rainbow Summer School - Yellow

Sipping Autumn

I sip the leaves one by one

falling from autumn’s trees

the Cabernets and Burgundies

Shiraz and Merlots;

tasting the wind in-between each sip

to wipe my palette clean

and breathe in the woody and perfumed air

once grassy, lush and green

I sip the leaves one by one

as autumn days pass by

and give my heart to my love

beneath the autumn sky –

bkmackenzie

copyrighted

posted for Rainbow Summer school - at Alphabe-Thursday - Color Orange...
posted for One Shot Wednesday - at One Spot Poetry

Brave's New World

The history has past from calling you brother
Today you look beyond the time of the setting rays
And walk much closer to the window of the newest century

Not always so – willing to look so forward
There were only the memories of winters behind
The smell of spring in the first thaw

Time’s meaning had a greater meaning then
You watched the herds for signs of movement
You listened closer to the wind’s words

Voices today all melt together carrying no song
The sun still sets on the western horizon
The wolf once more seeks shelter beneath the snow

In your face I read the turmoil of worlds
You glance at the window hungry to pass
This gap of era’s linked only by Wikipedia’s portal

Your youth still finds favor in resumes
The choice of destiny stands impatiently bookmarked
You must let the call die quickly –

Or accept communion with the Greater Spirits


bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2009

Posted for Poets United - Poetry Pantry