Of Stardust

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

Of Stardust

What was and is and what shall be

Came long before the primordial sea

Dinosaurs, mammals, flowers and trees

The mountains, the rivers

You and me

The tiniest little things to imagine

Infinite particles smaller that atoms

From deep within the cosmic fathom

Ever adding to the stratum

Of Stardust

Pure and white

Of Stardust

Energy, life

Of Stardust

Are the seeds

The seeds of which

All worlds do feed

From time before and time beyond

Re-used, recycled, wending ’round

Forever Stardust will abound

Stardust floating, Stardust free

Stardust within you and me

Stardust in all things we see

Within Stardust lies the key

Of Stardust

Pure and white

Of Stardust

Energy, life

Of Stardust

Are the seeds

The seeds of which

All worlds do feed

_____________________________________

Lisa C. Bassignani

2020

The Breath of Life

“The Breath of Life”

From birth until death

It’s all just one breath

And breathe we must do to survive

Whether it’s fresh or it’s choking

May it be provoking

Inspiring and fueling your life

To inhale more deeply

Absorbing completely

Life’s essence and all of it’s knowledge

Knowing too

That as you do

What you breathe in is a porridge

Each new breath

Is of many before

From the very beginning

And so evermore

So as you exhale

Know it is true

That your breath will give life to somebody new

…as of yet, untitled…

As the crimson veil of sunset

Burned into his sight

He dreamed a thousand dreams times ten

Then wished with all his might

And when he turned towards her

He could see the glow

Of every thing that he had dreamed

Just moments ago

In her eyes he saw those dreams

And knew she was the one

To dream a thousand dreams with

Under every setting sun

 


Lisa C Bassignani

2020

A Pirate Named Clyde

 

There once was a pirate named Clyde
A scurvy sailor with a salty hide
The sea was his home
The wash and the foam
The rolling of the tide

Smart as a whip
He built his own ship
From the spoils of his plunders
No crew did he need
For they would impede
Upon his search for wonders

With a shearwater’s sight
He would sail out at night
Prowling all the best ports
Searching for treasures
And other pleasures
Mingling with the sorts

His name was well known
And most left him alone
For none dared to stir up his wrath
He’d kill ‘em all dead
Then cut off the their heads
It was best to stay clear of his path

Not a bit did he drink
His mind sharp to think
For planning his next attack
He’d get the loot
Slip away on his sloop
And ne’er would he look back

He’d outsmart ‘em all
In the spring and the fall
When cargoes were at their height
He’d leave them all fuming’
And all in confusion
As he sailed out of sight

Then one day ol’ Clyde
While watching the tide
Pondering his next move
Did spy a fair lass
With plenty of sass
And much more to prove

She led him on home
Fed him cream and warm scones
Then loved him all through the night
When morning came
She did the same
And he didn’t put up a fight

Clyde he was stricken
His pulse it did quicken
This missy was worth more than gold
She sparkled and glistened
Enraptured, she listened
To the stories that he told

This booty was more
Then he thought to score
In all his years buccaneering
But to find such a purse
Might well be a curse
So he set to engineering

He couldn’t stay
And he needed a way
To claim this urchin his prize
But she left him dizzy
His mind in a tizzy
Such feelings he could not surmise

A cut throat like he
Should put out to sea
And yet she made him linger
She had a way
Of making him stay
By lifting just one finger

Then late one night
The moon shining bright
He hatched the most clever plan
He’d whisk her away
The very next day
And set course for Yucatan

But when morning came
He found his dame
Puking and pacing about
Ain’t no one was leavin’
And this was the reason
She pointed at her bloat

He’d filled her with semen
Most every evenin’
And now she was starting to show
A bun in the oven
From all that lovin’
A little Clyde starting to grow

He swore with his heart
They never would part
And that he’d not pillage again
Now Clyde is a dad
Which isn’t so bad
And he now has a crew of ten

————————————

Lisa C Bassignani
2020

 

A Walk in the Clouds

A Walk in the Clouds

Take a walk amongst the clouds

Then slowly lose your way

Float freely there in weightlessness

Then drift far away

Ride aloft upon the wind

Let yourself be taken

Mix and morph and be reshaped

Disperse and reawaken

Observe the sunlight shining through

Each vapor drop a prism

Tiny vibrant rainbow orbs

The beauty of true synergism

Allow yourself the luxury

To visit as you may

For just a brief walk in the clouds

Can set you on your way

The clouds can take you anywhere

You can be anything

The visit could be high and quick

Or low and lingering

Alto, cirrus, cumulus

Stratus, asperitas

Noctilucent, mesospheric

Nimbus and mammatus

Fractus, humilis

Nacreous and fog

A fresh and clean perspective

From ground ozone and smog

Take a walk amongst the clouds

Let yourself unwind

Take a walk amongst the clouds

And leave your cares behind

___________________________________________

lcb 2020

Photo by Lisa

A Story

II

“Godspeed” She whispered. She stood and watched as the ships sailed out of sight.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Before leaving, Montillio was able to gather a small crew of trusted allies to man the boats. Hardy men with Souls worthy of the cause. With Sven’s approval all but one were let aboard. The Solstice had begun. With new hope, they sailed with the rising and setting sun. The seas were calm. Their voyage quick.

Sven, navigating the way, was more silent than usual. He watched as they approached land. He could hear them. The voices of his ancestors. Rugged sea faring warriors. The land his people had chosen was remote and rocky. For generations it had served as a stronghold. Few outsiders dared to navigate the swift currents around the many jagged islands. Those unfortunate enough to make it to shore were quickly defeated. Their ships pirated and salvaged, no survivors. To Sven, this place was home.

They anchored in a small cove, protected from the fierce winds that blew out of the Northeast. The newly hired crew remained with the ships. Sherman, Montillio, Kaspar and Sven rowed the dark waters in silence. Once ashore, Sven led the way. They came soon to the fortress, a labyrinth of caves winding deep throughout a sheer and towering mountain of rock. Sven stopped. Before entering, he invoked upon the spirits of his ancestors and the Gods of his people to grant them safety and surety in their quest. The others offered prayers of their own, yet within each heart, the prayer was for the Light.

Geothermal activity kept the caves warm and dry, but there was also the danger of tremors. Some of the deeper sections had seen collapse in recent years. Time was always moving on and the Earth and all things moved with it. Sven studied the walls. Tales of bravery and valor. A timeline of legends and lore. Sven knew the stories, the heroes. He gained strength and calmness from these images. His people were never many and now they were few. To help free the Light would indeed be a great honor. A hero’s honor.

There was a restlessness as the men gathered around the fire. Sherman addressed them. “We have found the Light. She is safe for this time. Yet, we must be ever vigilant of the potential harm that could befall her. Should the Light be extinguished, so shall all that is good in this world. We must protect Her at all odds.”

“Then we should have stayed and done battle.” Montillio insisted. “Why do we hesitate? How can we possibly keep her safe from here?”

“She is safe.” replied Sherman. “The Light is strong and powerful. Do not doubt her ability to subsist. She has done so this far, without our help.” He paused. “She has much work to do before the Light can shine freely. This is her journey as well as ours.”

The men fell silent. They knew their captain was right. Kaspar had been heavily in thought. He knew the men were anxious. “We shall return to her in one months time.” He looked to Sherman for approval. “We can assess her safety and security. She is strong, yes, but she is also vulnerable. What is upon us, at this time, is a revelation like no other. She will need the support and protection of those who know the truth.” Montillio and Sven rumbled in agreement. Sherman had no choice but to comply with their wishes, for it was his wish also. The Light was vulnerable. They would return in one month.

The men spent the days stocking the ships and readying for battle. At night, they dreamt of Her powerful essence, Her luminous presence. They could feel the power across the miles. They could feel the warmth.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Light burned fiercely now and She knew that it would become more brilliant. The radiance and beauty of all things shone within and around her like never before. Sherman and his men had shown her the truth. She was now empowered to share the Light. Yet, with that power, caution was prudent. She knew that there would be those who were jealous of the Light, envious, perhaps even threatening. Those who would be blinded and those whose sight would be clouded. Who could she tell? Who could she trust? The Light burned, but She could not let it free just yet.

To Be Continued…

A Story

I

The signals, at first, were random, but as time passed they became more frequent, almost urgent. Finally ready, Sherman gathered his men. No longer could they ignore the situation. It was time. The light was calling to them and they would oblige.

Sherman, a man of action and determination, consulted with Kaspar. The diplomat was astute and wise. His visionary guidance would be of great value to their conquest. Close confidants, they would map the logistics, and plan a course for victory.

Montillio sat brooding. He was not interested in the dignitary’s approach. The rogue of the bunch, Montillio loved a good fight and would engage as he thought necessary. Often, and sometimes at the expense of the others, he would disregard all protocol to get the job done. Dynamic in nature and confident that he alone could. Plotting his own course, he listened with occasional outbursts of disagreement, balking at Kaspar’s methodical ways.

Sherman admired Montillio’s bravery and conviction. Montillio’s unwavering prowess was indeed a great attribute. He knew he could count on Montillio when things got tough. But, now, Sherman insisted Montillio listen and not be too quick to act. With so much at stake, they must all work together.

Sven sat quietly. He was cool, calculating. It was he who made sure no stone was left unturned, no adversaries left undefeated. He who hung back, patiently waiting his turn. The cleaner, the finisher, Sven saw the whole picture. He was passionate in his role supporting his fellow men at arms. Sven would see to it that no one was left behind.

A truer brotherhood there had never been. This would indeed be an epic journey.

Much preparation was necessary. They planned, debated and concluded. They would embark henceforth. This was perhaps the greatest challenge they had yet faced. Their mission was one for freedom. Freedom from tyranny and persecution. Freedom from slavery of mind, and of spirit.

They left before dawn, carrying only what they needed. Sherman led the way. He could see the light and guided his men toward it. He was anxious but showed no fear. Kaspar warned of the perils they would face. There would be demons and dragons, those who questioned their virtue. Those who stood staunchly guarding the light. These forces would not give it up freely. Montillio vowed to slay them all. Sven, ever stoic, nodded in agreement.

They chose a base camp. A rocky shore that was familiar and safe. She had received word of their arrival and with her own careful planning agreed to the rendezvous. She brought with her a fleet of ships and gifts of nourishment. Sherman thanked her graciously and took her in his arms. He held her close and felt the power within her. The light was bright, almost blinding. Montillio was ready to jump right in, but Kaspar held him back. Patience was key. Sven moved a little closer encouraging his friend to wait.

She had been trapped. Isolated for so long, Had someone heard as her soul cried out into the void? Ever searching, holding on to hope, knowing that out there, somewhere, was the purest, the whitest of light. She felt it on her skin, her hair, her face and within her very being. She felt the glow within her eyes and within her heart. Even in her darkest moments, that light shone. That light, soothing all her pains, giving her strength and the courage to believe. To believe that freedom could and would be.

The full moon filled the sky as Sherman told her of his quest. It was She that he and his men had traveled so far to see. She who they were here for. She was the light, the force that guided them. She chuckled, how could this be so? For she too was seeking the light. She had been bound for so long by darkness and sadness. Demons holding her back. Dragons beating her down.

Sherman and his men were true and valiant. Was this to be the fulfillment that She sought? She wrestled with emotions that she never knew she had. Strong and patient all this time, She was now vulnerable, afraid. Kaspar was there to allay her fears. He spoke to her honestly and with a kindness she had never known. He assured her it was true. Their quest was the light of which she was. It was time for her to be free and to shine upon the world. Sherman again held her tightly. Montillio nudging her in his boisterous yet cavalier way. And Sven, with his nod and eyes that told true.

Then she felt it and she knew that it was to be.
She became free.
She became the light.

To be continued

Amidst & Beyond

Admidst & Beyond

In the midst of a mist

Time to cease and desist

For to continue on would prove

Going forward is futile

But back would be imbecile

The wise choice is not to move

Wait the mist out

Then without doubt

The path will be plain to see

Clear as a vision

To make the decision

To follow that path

To be free

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

2019

Photo by Lisa

The Thinker and The Drinker

He was always wishful thinking

Stymied only by his drinking

Oh the thoughts his mind did throttle

To be washed away with that next bottle

If only he could see the truth

Not hide behind one hundred proof

Let those thoughts be free and clear

Instead of drowning them with beer

A mind so brilliant and so pure

Yet serenity for him, obscure

Those wishful thoughts, they cause him pain

Like blood or wine they leave a stain

So to drink he will maintain

To quiet his ever thoughtful brain

He Plays Guitar

She lies across his knee

He cradles her form, gently yet firmly

Deft fingers finding all the right spots

Cascading up and down her neck and body

Caressing, clutching, fondling

Pausing now and again

Passionate vibrations emanating from their union

Melodic and sublime

The coda, the climax

Breath heavy, a bead of sweat

He puts forth all that he has

Then rests his head on her shoulder and holds her close

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