Without a Word, an excerpt

Word

If only I could get into their minds, get to their words, since I cannot leave this chair to accept their offering.  If only I could understand, could know exactly how they color me, color themselves, then maybe…

Light

If only I could crawl behind their eyes and see what it is they select for their minds, select for the feelings that flow from their senses beneath their soft white skins.  The feelings that build and subside like ocean waves.  Together we could ride those waves.  And in this togetherness we could create a life for the ocean, a level for its motion.

Word

We would ride those waves as I do now, alone, in dream…Imagine – floating on top of the surf that rises, in rhythmic, undulating changes.  Rises to meet the white sky.  And as it descends, the sky is cast with the color of a prismatic sunset.  But now, in this space, my thoughts sink through coherent light, falling lower and lower into my darkness, searching for a semblance of time.  And as it sinks, my mind tells me that there is no connection.  That my thoughts cannot be theirs, even in word, in knowing, in screaming…for my scream is silent.

Dream

Space sinks in mink like a semblance of screaming connection, like a silent thought that falls to meet a final word, the word that sinks in sunset

Their my sinks in thought like darkness, searching the silent light for connection, for semblance like a scream searching for space

My mind sinks, searching for connection, searching for the light of thought in space, lowering the scream into a final, knowing heart

The connection sinks in word, a final, even darkness as in my heart a sunset screams for light, searching for a silent knowing

Shadow

During dream, shadow moves across the stage using her/his arms, in almost a swimming motion, reaches the door, and claws it with his/her hands like a dog paddling. 

Mirror

The door opens, mirror appears with a mask painted with the colors of a sunset.  Mirror rocks head back and forth a few times, then slams the door.

Shadow

 Shadow rolls back to the rug.

Word

Oh, that door…

Dream

That door that door that door that door that door that door that door that door

Word

Thoughts and visions

Dream

Thoughts and visions thoughts and visions thoughts and visions thoughts and visions

Light

Thoughts come in vision. 

Word

That’s it!  What is known is know through vision.  I take it from me, and give it to their words, so that they may have it.  But how do they take it?

Dream

Take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it take it

Word

Take this silent offering that screams in word.  How can this window be?  When what I see within, they see without.  Without me, but with me.

Shadow

Shadow stands and begins to shuffle in circles.

Dream

Within without within without within without within without within without

Word

I am within, I am without.  Here in this space, now looking to see the vision welling up inside in waves

Light

I see it, I feel it, I understand it, I know it, I take it, I give it, they see it, they feel it, they take it, they give it…

Word

Yes, I dreamt it last night.

Light

I dreamt myself sitting above a massive white sphere, with color revolving, the color mine, evolving around it.

Word

And in the dream I reached for the color and as I reached and touched, the color entered me, entered my body and rushed through my veins like a surging stream.  And as the color took shape in my mind, the shape of a million faces, color poured out of my eyes and returned to its orbit around the sphere.

Shadow

Shadow approaches the door in circular steps as dream:

Dream

I you he she it we you they I you he she it we you they I you he she it we you they

Mirror

The door opens, Mirror appears wearing a white, circular mask painted with orbital colors.  Shadow and Mirror meet in motion.

Dream

Me you him her it us you them me you him her it us you them me you him her it us you them

Mirror

Mirror recedes, the door slams.

Shadow

Shadow returns to rug in circular steps and stands while dream:

Dream

I me you you he him she her it it we us you you they them I me you you he him she her it it we us you you they them

Word

But what if…loathsome chair, I am not a child again.

Dream

Am am not am am not am am not am am not am am not am am not am am not

Word

But what if…

Artwork Robert Parker    Many thanks.

Excerpted from Without a Word by Molly Brogan

A Glimpse at My Upcoming "Early Poems"

If Love Is

If love is, then,

A meeting

And a meaning,

Just one meaning,

One shared meaning,

Then listen gently

To the sound

Of its tender sigh,

Its soothing,

Wind sung note.

Do not look for words,

But the low

Plaintful moan

Of lovers’

Sweet release.

Drink it as I do

With no thought

Before

Or after.

Nip the cool

Sensation

Of hushed

Wet gasps

That echo

When lips meet

And mean

The warmth,

The oneness,

The fusion.

Excerpt from unpublished Early Poems
Artwork by Moira Marshall.  Many thanks. 

Remembering Dr. Peggy Zellner

I had my birthday this year at MIX in Las Vegas, remembering all of the other birthdays in Las Vegas and my friends there.  Among them, was my good friend, Dr. Peggy Zellner, who passed away unexpectedly on my birthday some time ago.  Peggy was an intuitive Naturopath who was very gifted and had a large practice in the valley.  She was also a genius of spirit, and able to speak fluently, the language of the unseen.  Over the years that I spent in Las Vegas, I watched her touch many people, professional and gifted in their own right. She led us all to the spirit we commonly share, and showed us how to express it. She taught me many things and I find myself still unpacking some of it every day.  I love and miss her, bless her soul.  Rest in Peace my friend.

The Exquisite Mystery of Lifelong Friendship

Halfway through my first day of high school, at the tender age of 14, frightened and overwhelmed by my own small feelings, I was ripped away from them when a slender hand slipped a note onto my desk during English class.  I looked up to see a beautiful stranger attached to the hand.  The note said, "I like your laugh."

From that day forward, the presence of Vivian George in my life continues to uplift and inspire me.  Even when she is away, in my heart, she is my confidante, and I speak to her often.  With the spirit of her presence in my life, when we are able to get together, as we have not lived in the same state for almost four decades, it is like we never left each others' side.  We immediately pick up where we left off and each leave the encounter re-energized and inspired. 

There is a mystery here about spiritual intimacy that cannot be denied.  We have allowed it since our paths combined.  Over the years, we cultivate it, appreciate it, marvel at it.  There are times we include it in our life’s work.  She makes an appearance in my first novel, Remember Me as the recipient of the main character's letters, acting as a mirror character.  Her wedding gift to me, a painting, is now included on her website:  viviangeorge.net

Someday, I hope to include myself in her Tuscany Workshop, but unfortunately, not this year.  Here are the details for anyone interested.  Believe me, you will be transformed:

The Inspiration of Art

A Painting Workshop In Tuscany with Vivian George MFA

Dates: May 21 - 31, 2011

Colorado artist Vivian George finds her inspiration in nature. "Nature has all the components that are in painting - rhythm, color and harmony. Individually and together plant forms show energy and light, texture and pattern, repetition and color; and when confined to the flat, square format, their geometry is revealed," she explains. In this workshop, Vivian works with each participant individually to find his or her vision. The colors of the late afternoon sun on the olive grove, the repeating patterns of a hillside vineyard or the symmetry of a narrow drive bordered by native cypress . . . each person's view is different and leads to a unique interpretation.

Artwork by Vivian George.   Many thanks.

The Soothing Power of the Spoken Word

I was honored to be told by my friend Dr. Brenda Carson, that she reads poetry to her mother, Mardine Carson, from my book A Blaze of Light.  Dr. Carson owns an Alternative Health and Wellness Clinic in Detroit, MI, and reads to her mother regularly to facilitate her speedy recovery.

Mardine Carson is 87 years old, and began writing poetry in her 60s.  She has always been a home-body, and very involved with family, friends and church.  Dr. Carson tells me that she knows her mother is enjoying the poetry as she reads it to her by the serene smile on her face.

As a writer, I think there is no greater honor than to hear a story like this.  Thank you both, Brenda and Mardine, for sharing it.  Good health and God bless you both.

All About Living Is Next in Line

Nick said...

Do you have a date for publishing Shadow Dance? Waiting for that third novel of yours is not easy. Your fan, Nick

Thanks for the question, Nick.  My friend, Nick, and I have been mutual supporters since we were in college together.  It is true that my third novel is taking much longer than expected to publish.  This is because somewhere along the way, my blog readers encouraged me to publish my ideas in some form.  I have been working on this, and am on track to publish the first in a series of books called All About Living by the end of this year.  I settled on the format of Einsteins book "The World As I See It," first published in 1932 in the form that Einstein envisioned it.  It is a very simple compilation of his ideas on spirituality.  (In later editions the publishers took out pieces that Einstein felt important and replaced them with papers that they felt more important, losing the intent and flavor of the book.)

I thought about this wonderful book of Einstein's, and decided that in lieu of journals, diaries or letters, I would simply offer short presentations of my ideas in book form a few at a time, along with original drawings.  The first in the series will include my ideas on ethics, God, being, free will, forgiveness and several others.

I am at the same time writing Shadow Dancing, the third novel in my trilogy.  The novel will be written as a prose poem in the first person, a very different format than the other two.  I chose this form of expression to meet the character's challenges as she comes to fruition in her spiritual journey.  Because this stage includes non dual and more sublime states of consciousness that can be difficult to convey in words, I felt that poetry was my most effective tool.  I hope my readers agree.  This book will be published sometime next year.

Cover art by Vivian George.  Many thanks.

The Unexpected Rewards of Being Published

When I decided to publish the script for my play Without A Word in 2007, I asked my friend Robert Parker for the right to use his blue self portrait shown here, for the cover art.  His painting spoke to me, went straight to my heart the first time I saw it.  I knew, it was the right cover for this book.  He enthusiastically said yes and I was deeply grateful.

I could not have anticipated the reader response to this image, and it has been tremendous.  People are drawn to this image, as I was on first seeing it.  If all of my books are displayed, people will first approach this one, often needing to reach out and touch the picture, even if they don't open the book.   Recently, I received a package in the mail, elaborately engineered and masterfully wrapped.  It was this beautiful painting, which now hangs framed in my office directly in front of me, so that I can see it as I work.

Thank you, my friend, for this inspiring gift.  You are an artist of great talent, and I will treasure it always.

Artwork by Robert Parker  Many, many thanks.

Love as Becoming

Anonymous said...
A beautiful expression of love as emanation.

I would like to thank this anonymous viewer for this comment on my poem. It got me to thinking about emanation, or the unfolding principle, the outflowing from the source of creation. To me, this statement speaks to love as becoming in ways that completely connect us to all of creation. How wonderful.

The expression of primal urge into an emanation is also conveyed in one of my favorite James Russell Lowell poems, The Vision of Sir Launfall:

“And what is so rare as a day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days;

Then Heaven tries Earth if she be in tune,

And over her softly her warm ear lays:

Whether we look or whether we listen,

Every clod feels a stir of might,

An instinct within it that reaches and towers,

And groping blindly above it for light,

Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.”

Beauty as the Path to Inspiration

Sioban said...
This is an interesting post. In your books, do you connect beauty and inspiration?

Thank you, for the wonderful question, Sioban. I do think that when we allow ourselves to contemplate the beautiful, we are taking ourselves to the state of connection with spirit. This is a sure and easy path to allow ourselves to feel connected to everything and all that is, which is our God nature. Sustaining this state of awareness puts us in a place to receive inspiration, starts the creative juices flowing. When we are connected to all of creation, we become creation and are moved to express creatively.

I think that usually my poems express a state where everything is coming together into such a flow. My trilogy of novels also, follows the main character as she is able to appreciate and express this more and more until finally, she is living from it. Byron’s “she walks in beauty like the night” is the perfect example of a character that learns to live as the creative force, in a state of inspiration. My third novel, Shadow Dancing, portrays the main character moving beyond her own shadow to fully embrace her own beauty and live from it. Seen from the broad pallet of the trilogy of novels, this character has come a long way from allowing life to happen to her, to creating a life expressed as her own highest potential.

Bright Zellner

My friend, Peggy Zellner, ND, PhD, passed away suddenly on my birthday last Saturday. I discovered Peggy (or should I say, she discovered me) shortly after moving to Las Vegas at and IONS meeting. She was giving the crowd a hands on presentation of Kinesiology, a method used in her practice as a Naturopath, and I fell in love with her on the spot. She invited me to a "group meditation," held every Tuesday evening at her office. I was skeptical, and immediately pictured craziness and woo woo. She put me at ease and I was there the next Tuesday, and every Tuesday that I was in Las Vegas afterward.

Peggy had a method of meditation that, I quickly discovered, allowed us to witness the formation of group soul. I was blown away by the process and the potential. I will never forget the beautiful feeling that was shared each week by the participants (often different). Because the participants were different, each experience was different. Peggy guided us as we each described the images that came up for us in the meditative state. As the 90 minutes unfolded, these images revealed to us, without fail, how we connect at the soul level; how the group soul forms into a cohesive connection; how we are all and each left more than before. I was fascinated and devoted to this process. I now wonder if I will ever see anything like it again.

The genius of Dr. Peggy Zellner shed a light on this world that will never be dimmed. Why she made her sudden, final exit is one of life's mysteries. Somewhere, I suspect, she is smiling. At least, I hope so. I will continue to smile whenever I think of Peggy.

The Map of Beauty Translates

The Semanticist S.I. Hayakawa believed this about general semantics: “The end product of education, yours and mine and everybody’s, is the total pattern of reactions and possible reactions we have inside ourselves. If you did not have within you at this moment the pattern of reactions that we call “the ability to read” you would see here only meaningless black marks on paper. Because of the trained patterns of response, you are (or are not) stirred to patriotism by martial music, your feelings of reverence are aroused by symbols of your religion, you listen more respectfully to the health advise of someone who has ‘MD’ after his name than to that of someone who hasn’t. What I call here is a ‘pattern of reactions,’ then, is the sum total of the ways we act in response to events, to words, and to symbols, signs and symbol systems. Our reaction patterns or our semantic habits, are the internal and most important residue of whatever years of education or miseducation we may have received.”

As I view the artwork of Ronald Isom, these feeling responses for my deepest archetypal signs and symbols well within me. I am inexplicably moved and left with mystical feelings better left unspoken.

To a person who asked for a definition of jazz, Louis Armstrong is said to have replied, “Man, when you got to ask what it is, you’ll never get to know,” proving to be an intuitive semanticist as well as a great trumpet player.

To give the artwork of Ronald Isom an intuitive semantic response is not to ask for a definition, but to know our own intrinsic value, as we are led right to our core with each view.

PW Bridgman, Nobel Prize winner and physicist, once wrote, “The true meaning of a term is to be found by observing what a man does with it, not by what he says about it.”

Ronald illustrates his intuitive semantic reactions to his symbol systems. His paintings and drawings are kinetic in ways that allow us to FEEL what he feels. Organic in inspiration, his artwork brings us to our own symbolic systems, as they emerge and fly free, allowing us to see and know our own semantic responses.

In this way that the symbols of Ronald’s artwork brings us to ourselves and allows us to feel, I aspire, as a writer, to bring my readers into their intuitive core, and allow them to explore the possibilities of their lives, through the eyes of my characters.

Artwork: Spiritual Growth Form by Ronald Isom