I Know a Love

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abundance, Elaine Stirling, Law of Attraction, love poetry, new love, relationships, romance, sensuality, vibrational reality

I know a love
that doesn’t show
or force his hand
who lifts this weighted
heart to kiss as if
it were a hummingbird
then sets me down
to go my way,
a muscled love
that rises like the mist
across a mountain lake
and feeds the texture
of my dreams with vast
realities to which I wake
and find the evidence
beside me, ever-growing,
in the shape, the touch
and smile, thrust of you.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013

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A Little Bit, with Everything

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abundance, beauty, beyond appearances, Elaine Stirling, form poetry, innocence, inspiration, Law of Attraction, Medieval French verse, simplicity, triolet, tweets that grow

A Triolet

Be a little bit in love with everything
for anything can be a start

a quiet glance, a broken string
Be a little bit in love with everything

the bellicose, a freshly buttered kugel ring
beyond appearance lives the tender heart

Be a little bit in love with everything
for anything can be a start.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013

Sufficing

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abundance, desire, Elaine Stirling, happiness, knowing, Live in the Momentum, nagual, poetry, romance, sexuality, socialization of genders, trust, vibrational reality

There is a kiss that reaches
men who carry hopes for happiness
that women dare not speak of
truth that compasses a gilded
agelessness that spins above
our clouded heads, and all
our slings of shot and pot
to puncture to the sun beyond
fall short, the youth that grows
and glows in darklessness cares
nothing for the squabble or
the whip. And so we lie, with
and to each other, reason-clad,
I cling to memories of a kiss
that fell apart, a book I read,
wise man I heard. What
did he say? No clue!

There is a kiss.
There is a kiss.
That’s all I know.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013
Image of Rudbeckia, black-eyed Susans,
from my garden

Life Support

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abundance, brave new business leadership, Elaine Stirling, Law of Attraction, poetry, reasons to feel good, seasonal, The Corporate Storyteller, vibrational reality, we experience what we believe

Untapped genius of the world
is breathing through my open
window stanzas of mock orange
and paragraphs of grass freshly
mown; a novelistic memory strains
through spaces in the screen
to land reconstituted, granular
like salt across the floor that’s
clean but not too much, and
there is more—the belly laughs
of children freed from school,
gotta call my Dad, I’ll race ya!
spokes of bike wheels whiffling
up a breeze, these lungs of life
are clear and all that might
appear to contradict, to turn
the world against itself
is mockery.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013

Reconstellating Senses

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abundance, deepening, Elaine Stirling, Law of Attraction, love poem, reconciliation, sensuality, shamanic mysteries, the creative process, vibrational reality

Last night you flowed the taste
of caramel through my waking
dreams, an amber warmth
your words attuned electric
pin pricks at the outermost
the tips of all I slowly plant
along the roads in memory
of our clustered peregrinos.

Golden light is hard
to see when camouflaging
plum shades and sienna fill
the crevices of under-watered
lives, and when I try too hard
to look at you the stripes
of dark and light like jailbirds
scar my eyes, and no one
warned me hornets sleep
in petalled sheets of rose—
so much for smelling you!

New music to my ears
of late, compels, and touching
well requires more than
garbled tongue
and fingertips.

For now, it is enough
that certain gates be closed
the sumac knows which
flavours to admit & hawk
she loves the taste
of fresh caught
prey and gravity.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013

Septrois: Seven Kings

Tags

abundance, brave new business leadership, days of creation, Elaine Stirling, expansion, form poetry, genesis, Law of Attraction, manifestation, medieval French style, new creation, poetic dialogue, prosperity, seven three, vibrational reality

Septrois is my latest poetry form, borrowing the spirit of medieval French verse as it developed in the Aquitaine. Septrois is a neologue that blends sept (seven) with trois (three), referring to the original 7-line poem and three new lines added to each. Conjoined, the two numbers create a word play, sept rois, that translates as “seven kings”.

I’ll say more about the rhyme scheme and rules after you’ve had a chance to enjoy the 28-line septrois. First, though, here are the originating seven lines, the final stanza from “The Chambered Nautilus” by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. (1809-1894).

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life’s unresting sea!

~~~

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
I have brought bricks and mortar,
blood and toil, artisans of high degree
whose love of heights replaces cruder vanity.

As the swift seasons roll!
Each hour blooms a year for me
through passages of time held light
my joyful course is stayed, feels right.

Leave thy low-vaulted past!
I’ve helpful souls who sweep away the night,
leave traces for the coming son and daughter
who, by your grace, bring freshening laughter.

Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
encourage us to boldly reconnoiter
less with dramaturge and more with comedy,
hearts well tuned in earthy frequency;

Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
with room enough for all to merry be
abandoning the urgency to rush we might
discover heaven orbits us, a satellite,

Till thou at length art free,
from pain and restless night,
accommodating easily new quarter
for seven kings, as one, your porter;

Leaving thine outgrown shell by life’s unresting sea!
embracing the unknown as playful sport or
means to ever curious and hopeful be
of constant love, sweet whirling with delight.

~~~

How to construct Septrois, Seven Kings:
Begin with an original 7-line borrowed stanza or poem, which we’ll call “the genesis”. From each line or “day of creation”, write three new lines, “kings”, that enhance or converse with the genesis. From this ratio of 1:3 or 7:21, a 28-line poetic dialogue is created.

The rhyme schemes of the three added lines is as follows:
1. abb
2. bcc
3. caa
4. abb
5. bcc
6. caa
7. abc

The rhyme scheme of the genesis doesn’t matter. Only the 3-line kings follow the sequence. Their lines must also support the theme and link the stanzas logically, so you’ve created a unified or expanded poem with the joining of sept and trois.

I hope you’ll try a few yourself and have tons of fun!

© Elaine Stirling, 2013
Image of Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, from destination360

The Other Sisters of the Family Mercantilia

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abundance, anti-trust, brain science, brave new business leadership, competition, economic revisioning, Elaine Stirling, form poetry, imagination, Law of Attraction, neurology, sacred geometry, sonnet, supply and demand, The Corporate Storyteller, the story of Babel, triune brain, vibrational reality

Sister Five, Sequencia

Sister Five, Sequencia, says nothing
of the world as it is; to some she’s mute
observing from nucleic center all
that spins, she’s singular, unwed, she sings
to her equivalent, no less. Refute
her calls to trade and be assured of fall,
for data she engages includes all whose
limbic centers, 3-legged stools, are wobble-
free. Monopoly cannot be ruled save
in a fishy bowl, guaranteed to lose.
Continuous alarm, selling trouble
is a karma-based economy, grave-
headed. Only “con sequencia”, by
sequence deep-observed can plenitude fly.

The Sister of No Permission

Sister Six you’ll seldom see amidst her
sibling company, she has small use for
gatherings, she is the scout, the comet
head who flies, advancing with no other
aim in mind but joy, momentum-sped. Your
slow considerations will never get
between her and her light, your sordid talk
of shadow is the back end of the cave.
Good luck with that! If anti-trust makes cents
to you, invest—if not, fire up, unblock
those wings suspended for too long. Behave
as though permission were a sin. No fence
to climb or break, begin! The sisters six
plus one have heard your ascent to magicks.

Salt of the Earth

I am the seventh sister of the clan,
Cantilia is my name. I flow within
the bloodstreams of the race you call mankind.
You are my sea, la mer, the reach you plan
as if you weren’t already here, undimmed,
full content closer than a thought. You’ll find
the sisterhood has unspelled words like heal
and seek. You are not ill, you’re lacking naught!
Supply, demand and imagery who live
the other side of pause know how you feel—
do you, or are you pillared salt? They’ve got
you covered. Let go my hand now, and give
your heart to pure abundancy. You’re free
to recreate Bab-El’s society.

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013
—painting of “The Pleiades” by
Elihu Vedder, 1885

The Executrix of Pause

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abundance, both and more, brave new business leadership, Elaine Stirling, Golden Mean, new economic thought, sacred geometry, sonnet, The Corporate Storyteller, the power of pause, what the masters knew

Demand is high, supply unsure, three kin
of Mercantilia stimulating pulse
and drive, you feel alive, a need to buy
or interject, you’ve wrecked before, again,
so what? The knee jerk of a mad impulse
restores the balance to—but wait! Just try
this once not acting or to think in haste
and watch who comes, who’s curious at what
you’ve done. The fulcrum, fourth of seven, seeks
to leverage thought to higher ground, not waste
through argument what’s done before—no but,
just more and both. Reduce from years to weeks
the evidence of commerce practiced clean
by living the abundant Golden Mean.

~~~

(After a pause of not too long, the final three
sisters of Mercantilia will make themselves known.)

© Elaine Stirling, 2013
Painting of “The Lost Pleiad” by
William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1884)

Agoraphilia: Two Sketches

Tags

abundance, agora, brave new leadership, commerce, Elaine Stirling, favourable trade balance, marketplace, Mercury, perception, poetry, self-pity, sonnets, The Corporate Storyteller

You asked me how I’d like to celebrate
the day we met, as if the wild terrain
we share like foxes needs some kind of gate.
All right, let’s swim the currents of your pain.

Walk me slowly through your imperatives:
show me the caged beasts whose jaws clamp shut when
others find means to forget or forgive,
and let me touch those vows that never bend.

No masochist am I nor therapist;
details I don’t need, for all illusion
is the same, looping densities their gist
of pity in self-reflecting fusion.

Take me deep, love, beneath your chemistry
where Nature’s dance beats on, no cover fee.

~~~

The marketplace is a dim provider
amplifying echoes of demands not
met with pretense of supply, our driver
knows the faster route, the sweet perfect spot.

Ignore the chaos of before, no thing
from that jumble can be worn or borne, used
goods are only good when used to be’s bring
laughter or a thought, gently love-infused.

Source your merchandise from gods predisposed
to balance of trade that favours all, no
service give nor lend to latitudes closed
by self-neglecting attitudes. Just flow!

Trust the hidden springs of impulse to lift
the agora to reach your mighty gift.

© Elaine Stirling, 2013
Image posted by Georgios, 2011, at walkingtoursathens.com

Six Plenitudes

Tags

abundance, Anglo-Saxon and Germanic myth, Elaine Stirling, Homer, Law of Attraction, poetry, The Odyssey, Wagner

“Woden Heals”, artwork by Emil Doepler (1855-1922)

I

The only expansion that matters begins
from nowhere, the only relationship
designed to ignite sweet everlasting
appetite is the one we embrace inside
ourselves,

and yet every smile, every flirtation,
whether or not the scorching romance
follows, is a sparkle in the right direction.

II

Smothering flame is a favourite pastime
of the disenfranchised, ones who have
misplaced their voice, their vote on a
once spectacular selection of topics.

Neither here nor there, such friends
may save you the trouble of lugging
around an extinguisher.

III

Get over your self-assigned role
of bodyguard to others. The hellfires
that surround the daughter of Wodan
are failed, angry suitors. You, beloved,
soar pinnacles above them.

IV

Not yet noon, and I have lost track
of the kisses I’ve enjoyed. Relinquishing
the fear of metaphor, you may see
yourself as I do, Seahorse, softly
curved and unencumbered…

Creation your aquarium, everyone
approaching for a glimpse, a taste,
a touch of your evanescent beauty.

V

Be in less of a hurry to quote
Rumi. What need have you of more
“Huzzah, huzzah!”? Count three
beats, and allow me to faint at
your syllables of splendour.

VI

The infinite space within a ring wouldn’t
dream of chasing the ring. Penelope knew
this and thereby drew her king safely home.

The cycle, when one learns the difference
between trampling and choice, returns to dust,
as you, I promise, my expanding friend, never will.

© Elaine Stirling, 2013