Month: April 2020

the sweetest madness

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persons raising hands

My mind is always trying to talk
my heart out of this madness.
This argument–
bickering battle between them —
My soul watches — laughing.

These two contrary companions
endlessly scrapping and tussling
like kittens learning to grow up —
Meow! Shriek! Hiss, attack, tumble —
Oh, this joy of mock battle
to be ruler of the kingdom!

Meanwhile,
You are water flooding into each open crevice;
You are fire and red-flame lava burning me to ash;
You are space, silence, the great wash of wind —
across my body like cool breezes on warm days.

Electrical impulse of cell and synapse —
You are light exploding in every particle of my being —
And I am dying into the invisible storm of You —
And it is the most beautiful place I have ever known.

Dying to Love is the sweetest madness:
One never wishes to come back from that!

 

~Photo Credit” Luis Dalvan on Pexels.com

the love that is Home

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Gateway

It is as if
Somehow — Someone
opened the gate and let me back in
to the Garden of Eden —

while the world still sees me
and keeps calling, calling
to come back out and play.

I can’t find words
that work to explain
I am happier here
than ever, anywhere —

How does one explain
the love that is Home?

 

~Photo Credit: Gateway; (c)2019 Marissa Mullins

Open Call for Artists, Poets, Writers, and Creatives!

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Hello Beautiful Creatives,

I need you! I need your talent!

The world needs you! The world needs your talent!

We Creatives share a cutting-edge vision, a specific energy and enthusiasm, and a way of seeing the world and life that is desperately needed during these difficult times. I would like to give you a sacred space to speak in and the opportunity to speak — in whatever medium you call your own; be it art, poetry, writing, music — and so here we go … it’s an Open Call!

If you’d like to know who in the world I am – check out my artist bio above for all those official details. Or, read through some of these blog posts if you just want to get a feel for me.  If you’d like to see other artists and writers and work I like– go check out poetryisaverb.wordpress.com. I post occasionally on here and I read and select pieces off the web at random and by my gut — if I like it, on it goes!

Currently, I’m working on a slick-glossy style lit mag/art mag/mindfulness style quarterly. This will be a print publication and I hope to have the first print run ready to go by Winter 2020. I’d like to invite you to join me!

If you have an interest in further details, or in being included or having your work included on Poetry is a Verb (also on Facebook as Poetry is a Verb!), then simply drop me a note on here or you can email me at Marissamullinsphotography@gmail.com for more details and so we can chat!

I look forward to hearing from you and to our Co-Creative efforts!!

Much Love & Blessings to All,

~Marissa

Sparrow

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brown small beak bird

He came to land
so gingerly and brave
on the chair-back
beside me (reading Rumi) —
at a table near the fountain.

Then,
hopping down and around
the edge of the table,
a hand-length
beside me
as if
he knew there was
an uneaten cookie
inside my book-bag  —
and asking
so sweetly and gently —

What could I do?
But
reach into the bag,
pull the cookie out, and
crumble it across the table
as a sacred offering
for this invitation
to love.

 

~March 2020, Market Common, Myrtle Beach, SC

~Photo Credit: Flickr on Pexels.com

day of miracles 3/20/20

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Beach3620

The sandy beach gave me heart tokens
in stone and shell.

The sea gulls paraded their young before me
training flight as I gazed on the becoming.

The ocean washed sand away to show me
a giant shark tooth for my hand.

There was love and light and poetry flowing,
new books of beautiful verse for my heart,
a picnic lunch with my lover in the park.

There was a painted rock
in a flower pot with a painted heart and my
initial that was waiting for me to walk by.

There was a brave bird that introduced himself
and asked to share my cookie, and at my acquiescence,
he and his friends sang me love songs while they ate.

There was water rushing in the fountain
and a pen filling notebooks with poems.
There was sunshine and shade and shadow —

A breeze carrying the scent of blossoms my way
and a bench held me lovingly in sacred space.

There was love and life and flowing in me, around me,
with me. Leaves fell as Shams sang and Rumi danced.

There was a day of miracles … what more could I want?

 

 

~Photo Credit: Blue Ocean, Myrtle Beach State Park; (c)2019 Marissa Mullins 

the only way Home

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OceanGreen

I am neck-deep in this wave-water of You.
That, all my life before
I only could stick my toe in –
or, sometimes
there was loud-splash and timid-step, You
surging up around my ankles –
or, other times
in the bravest neurotic mad-laced hours,
I would close my eyes and run barreling
into deep-dark-swirling waters up to my waist.
But — Always,
as the sand ripped away beneath my feet,
the dizziness spun and fear gripped me,
out and back to the safety of shore I ran.

Now,
no solid ground-safety-land beneath my feet.
Your waves flow-wash-lap at my throat –
Your water forces–kisses-enters my mouth –
I rock-surrender-float, two toes touching bottom,
in this bliss of dissolving into You —
My soul begs You — fill me, immerse me, consume me.
My Mind cannot understand this madness.
My Heart knows insanity in love with the Beloved
is the only way Home.

 

~Photo Credit: (c)2019 Marissa Mullins

you were always becoming poems

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time lapse photography of flame

~For Joey, April 2019

 

Oh, that sparkle of mischief
and laughter and child
that jumped out of your eyes
and decked me,
knocking the breath from me
as I sat across the room!

Boy that I loved
with deep heat longing,
held close to my breast, a child-man
I could not help heal save reach trust.

“Beautiful”
and you were the most beautiful boy
on earth to me —

your eyes your lips your face your hair
your heart
your hands your chest your belly your legs
your manhood
your fight your laughter your demons your smile
your soul

“Beautiful Destruction”
running through my heart – life – soul.

“I ruined you,”
you used to say.

“No, Beautiful,”
you were the match I used for flame.

To love beyond all aspects of self
brings the burning of purification.

You were always becoming poems
in the Seeing Eyes of a Poet.

“I ruined you.”

“No, Beautiful.”
You were my chosen suicide.

 

 

~Photo by Igor Haritanovich on Pexels.com

 

Vibration

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scenic view of night sky

~July 2019

 

Gulp the words down like bits of sushi.
They swim – gather – coalesce – become fish.
Drown the fish-words in wine and bourbon.
They grow mouths – whimper like babies –
mutate into screams.

Starve the words screaming.
No pens – no paper – no ink.
They transform    become heartbeat, sweat,
blood – They cocoon into
emotions – fears – paranoia –
Ooze out of dark places in wrong moments.

Beat the words back like fire, with a blanket.
They burn deeper into the molecules of being
and merge with the soul of the mouth.
Speak the words that grow in your infinite silence.
They transform into vibration of echo and return —

AUM — OM

 

~Photo by Philippe Donn on Pexels.com

Desolation

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woman s lips

~July 2019

 

There were a thousand lies on each side.
No one —
Won the war
Turned out to be right
Gained the spoils.
There was no trophy given.

The soul whispers for Desolation
and he comes when called.

It starts as one Want above all
in a fresh grass field
populated by children, flowers, butterflies and

wishes
become want
and want
becomes all
and all
becomes darkness and fire
becomes burning and ice
becomes a ravaged field.

Only space, emptiness, openness remains
after Desolation does his job.

When the lies have spoken their spark
When the fires have burned their burning
When the rain has gone away, the river receded
When the sun drops from the sky
When fear drives the chariot of victory
And his kingdom reigns supreme in your mind
When mercy closes her eyes and her voice grows faint
When the storm is unceasing and the flames of
Self-devouring grow higher than flight

There —
you are reborn.

 

~Photo by Jessica Gaudioso on Pexels.com