duets with other poets – Simona

Note:  Simona is presently a regular follower of my blog.  I make a habit of visiting the blogs my readers.  The photography at her beautiful blog is sensual without being pornographic and her gorgeous prose borders on poetry.  Upon submerging myself into the artistic ruminations of this Italian muse, I found myself inspired to compose a sonnet (below) in this ‘duet’ with a beautiful rose.  I encourage you to visit her blog.  –dafree whitewolfe


Ci sono momenti in cui si deve vivere la vita attraverso la vita degli altri.

Altri che soffrono,

altri che ti hanno aspettato a lungo,

altri che dopo anni di silenzio finalmente parlano.

Altri che hanno bisogno di un compagno nell’attesa delle loro attese.

E altri per i quali il tempo che passa nell’aspettare è già un dono.

Non sai bene se la vita è viaggio, se è sogno,

se è attesa,

se è un piano che si svolge giorno dopo giorno

e non te ne accorgi se non guardando all’indietro.

Non sai se ha senso in certi momenti il senso,

non conta, contano i legami.. Simona ♥ http://imieialtiebassi.wordpress.com


shades of melancholy

(to the Muse of muses and her shadows)


« Ci sono momenti in cui si deve vivere la vita attraverso la vita degli altri. »  -Simona



there are moments when one finds oneself pausing

the senses tentative uncertain frozen

one finds oneself in such moments pondering

memories crushing the senses come unbidden


dansing through beethoven or perhaps schubert


clarity in a delicate pas de deux

with obscurity allowing silence to speak

of others who have or are and will suffer too

whose expectations are suddenly not oblique


rushing through chopin perhaps gushing through liszt


others who cannot meet lover’s expectations

whose expectations  are lacking understanding

whose ambitions exclude being blue companions

but include mistral words unveiling
coy angling


pulsating through debussy or perhaps ravel


if our lives are a journey why all this scheming

if what one does or does not seems not to matter

is it amidst such still moments of our dreaming

that one perceives that all crystaline dreams shatter


as music stains the rose shades of melancholy


so when one pauses pondering the senses sensing



the rose commences her withering and  fading


chrétien marc valentin

((© 04 août 2014)

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duets with other poets – madstoffa incubating

No. 117.2.

this wilde dog – dafree whitewolfe –  finds madstoffa to be a wave of talent rising into a tsunami of artisty…so, unbashed word-smasher that we are, we asked him for permission to improv a duet on this new gem…while graciously granting permission, he informs us it is a work in progress…a diamond in the rough, not yet polished…

so, therefore, meanwhile, because melting into endless howevers….this, the dafree whitewolfe, is content to wait until our brother of the sacred packe, that madstoffa, finishes his current  opus before leaping  down the rabbit hole following in his trackless tracks…

before dipping our teagle’s quiver into his shivering inkspot of exaltation that is the aspiration igniting genius in this gem, we his  brother of the sacred packe, prefer to let his madness be a lamp before our feet so to speak (we are a poet don’t ya know it)…any and all lovers of growons are invited to follow the dafree whitewolfe following madstoffa down the rabbit hole…a duet is incubating amidst the gathering stardust…eventually, followers become leaders…madstoffa is already such madness that intoxicates…invitations are not required…you cannot crash this party…all you need is a hat to become a mad hatter who delights whimsy among the awareness of wolves….lol!….



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duets with other poets – weaving new threads (la brujitaaa iv)


awakening star of the east

(to the Muses of muses  and her shadows)

“Your word is a lamp before my feet and a light for my journey.” -Psalm 119:105


Wolkje aan

cloud in

De lucht

in the air

Zal ik op je

i shall upon you




En neem een vlucht

then  with you take flight

Kraaien kauwen raven

raven of ravenings


Vliegen mee

fly with me

Door een wolken

through this cloud

Haven heen

into the haven of havens


In de verte zien we

on the horizon we see still

Een mooie ekster

that still undiscovered country

Op een zilveren

a shimmering sapphire


star of starry nights


Kom met ons mee

come fly with us

In onze wereld

into our new realms

Van magie

of magicke

Daar wacht jou

wherein your beloved

Mooie ochtendster


ghimmering star dawning

awaits you with opal breasts and onyx wings 

La Brujitaaa http://lalocabrujita.wordpress.com/



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ancient threads in the tapestry – the wisdom of dafree whitewolfe

goodmorning1 La Brujitaaa http://lalocabrujita.wordpress.com/

“Allow yourself to yield, and
you will be completed.
Allow yourself to bend, and
you will stay straightened
All yourself to be empty, and
you will get appreciated.
Allow yourself to be exhausted, and
you will be restored.


Having little, you can receive the gift of giving much.
Having much, you can give the gift of receiving little.
-Lao Tzu (transduction by dafree whitewolfe)

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Zionist Crackpot Outside Kedem Shop in Manchester

Zionist Crackpot Outside Kedem Shop in Manchester.

…luv madstoffa! i am both jewish (polish grand-mother survived the pogrom) and catholic, but was an evangelical ASSembly of God protestant: I militate against Fundamentalism wherever I encounter as does my brother of the sacred packe, CP! watch! enjoy! silence your mind open your hart! we are all in this together! violence breeds violence! the sacred warrior has beaten his sword into a cross! …further up & further in…^^~~~~ dafree whitewolfe

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Ebola Outbreak

Ebola Outbreak.

Here is poet with a prophetic soul: A man unafraid to stand up and cry out at mendacity when he sees it! Deep bow, my brother of the sacred packe! …further up & further in…~~~~^^*^^~~~~ dafree whitewolfe

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weaving the tapestry – reweaving threads unweaving

the incense of suffering

(to the Muses of muses and her shadows)


“There is nothing in my self that can be relied on.”

 -St. Teresa of Avila



my hart said to my harts

there is nothing

at the hart of the rose

nothing is here

but the incense of suffering


the diamond hart of kwan yins

seeking nothing

she floating on water

finding nothing

her hart of all harts still weeping


the tears of black madonnas

speaking of suffering

the rose within roses

heaven still sorrowing

crowning warriors kings hanging


the sacred hart of harts

suffering nothing

he walking on water

seeking without fearing

the fragrance of a burning rose


the subtle minds of bodhisattvas

finding truth ennobling

on lotuses dansing

sufferring nothing

still their unworthy hart leaping still


smoldering tears  washing my cheeks

unworthy as we are if not

serving the midnight rose

we are nothing if not

the incense of love suffering


nothing is certain while nothing is suffering


within the immaculate hart of harts

something comes from nothing comes compassion

goddesses awaiting gods returning home



so i follow the incense of a smoldering rose


chrétien marc valentin

(© 08 août 2014 – 1st draft 04 septembre 2003)


*The Life of Saint Teresa of Avila by Herself, Chapter 5

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