MudGirl~

~rewinding the clock to 12~

I suppose, if you dream

you can dream me a throwback

but a poignancy may be lost

an uncertain beauty

a gossamer shift

silk threads in distinctions of the soul of a MudGirl

 

Sometimes I am human

other days I am wolf curled before the fire

against your hip

sometimes I am sunshine learning the parable of the sky

water for a thirsty man on a hot summer day

every movement a generous constant

in the walkabouts of a MudGirl

 

Earth gave me flesh

she is my mother before all other women

Sky conferred breath for my newborn lungs

he is forevermore my Father before all other men

I am water beads

and blood mead

an embroidery of elements

kin to wild terrains where the rocks roll

lover to the sea’s caress

a girl with mountains in her eyes

oh! what joy to be a MudGirl

 

I am mud

water

hummingbird and lamb

lion of the plains

the wild dancing

the mad singing

joy and sorrow of the storm

seasons color in my lines

snow on my eyelashes

rain in my mouth

colliding

blending with atoms

through the air

 

I was born a love creature

furious lightning shaped the bones in my thighs

lava in my ribs

nectar in my hips

pollen hands

cherry lips sipping the sun

eating the mud

body naked

unashamed beneath the downpour of falling stars

making love to dusk

sipping life at the side of dawn

a wild

reptilian creature

shaman

mother with breasts heavy with jewels and milk

for all the children gone

all the children to be born

 

I am spirit

skin

bones

blood

oh! What joy to be a MudGirl!

 

originally written in Dec. 1978

copyright:2005vssmd/pa.inc

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

excerpt from

 

 

 

 

 

 

 this is the original version~ there of variances in stanzas in the book due to my bad judgement of following editorial advice for the first book since I was flying by the seat of my britches~ lol

 

 

Author's Note

~ a friend and I were chatting today and he said he would like to see one of my earlier writings~ so I rewound the clock to age 12 and this particular poem~ the oldest of mine to be published, in the first book~ I wrote this for my freshman english class~as a creative writing assignment~ catholic school~ Mr. Tyrell gave me an A but it got back to the holy hell priest assistant principal who already had it in his narrow mind I was a witch~ and I was suspended for a day~mother was called in~so all around this really non spectacular and simple piece brought a whole lot of angst to the world for a time~ which just made me all the more determined to always fight for the right for creative free form expression in all areas of life for the world~

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Old souls seem always in tune with nature, self, and spirit. What a blessing that you were able to express yourself through writing so wonderfully beginning so young. Your talents have only blossomed with time, each poem a petal in the flowers of your voluminous garden.

Linda Marie

[Maurice]

I can well understand why you received the A grading; I don't think you were cut out for answering to priests, however.

[Brad]

I am water beads
and blood mead


killer lines, i've read this before...i have this book, that you better sign sometime in the future...and you should have told the priest you were a witch and then put a hex on him...it's all about the mind

[C]

Ah, the narrow confines of a catholic mind is no place for you....you belong under that downpour of stars. :-)

[luciddreamer]

Wow this is amazing ...I completely understand about religious "authority" telling us how evil we are for our thoughts and ideas....of course, I guess we scare the hell out of them and that always gives me a little smile :)
Peace

[Intern'l Shultzfeather]

good. Wish I had your acquaintance back then. Course I may not be here now who cares maybe though doing much better

[Ed Hart]

i'll bet you gave our priestman holy goosebumps, you witchy thing you...and, i'm also sure whatever gods may be, blessed the holy mr tyrell who had the vision to give you an A, but what concerns me a little is that at 12 you knew the meaning of the word 'poignancy', which i have yet to use, and still don't know the meaning of (which, of course, i will never confess to)...and, as we all know, once a mudgirl always a mudgirl, and i know just the place we can play

[David W Moore III]

At twelve you were outstanding. Matt said he wished he could have been as good of a writer at twelve. Hell, I'd love to be able to write like you did at twelve - NOW! And there goes the church again, punishing the thinkers of the world! Even as a child you had lightning in your bones, huh? You are and always will be a wonder and a star.

[JelliFyshKissUs]

And this is why we love you. Because you embrace all that is you--the bland and the bright. Even the "mud" that clothes you see as a gift from nature. Your amalgamation with our hearts is forever blended for your spiritual beauty of the mind.

[Amy Bumpas]

I love this! I believe this is one of my favorites. I am impressed...you wrote
this at age 12? There is such a spiritual feel to this...like the many lives lives
are here in this poem. To me this poem reads I am everything and all, and
in between. There is confidence and strength in this I so admire.

[Matthew Kult]

Hello Selene,

I suppose, if you dream

you can dream me a throwback

First lines, if only you knew then you would be posting this today, and I must say

You even predicted me.....the mad singing

An unevolved Selene, a delight to read, although even then you were a master of the craft. I could only wish my writing was this good, when I was 12....then again I wasn't interested in killing people then.....Go figure....

Always,

Matthew