Saturday, April 1, 2023

Three Poems, Amy Hoskins

Faith Forward, Democracy


Because you see a flower, it changes your day. 
To make a sacred space, you don’t need money.
The Earth is sacred as the Heavens, you and me.
Your body is a temple. Your heart a flowing flower.
Reality is milky, relative to your experience, 
your perception.

Please come sit with me, and just be.
Tell me from the heart, your story,
What shaped your life up to now.


Is it poverty of the spirit that causes you 
to destroy what is good? 
You’re jealous of goodness.

Goodness grows. 
Thrives despite attempts at eradication. 
We’re all born with it, but hatred is learned.
Everyone deserves genuine love. 
Unconditional. Respectful. 
Everyone deserves a life that gives them joy.
And ye harm none, do what ye will.
Blessed be, all beings are worthy of love.

All the angels came. All the demons.
Pandora’s Box split asunder, irreparably. 
It only seems like the end of the world, 
in this epic battle for our souls, 
our shared future.


Phone calls come in that I don’t answer. 
Australia. Afghanistan. Malaysia. Peace.
Please leave a message.

Things are happening at such a rate, 
it becomes difficult to describe the times.
What Bardo of Bardo’s is this?

When mythology fails, the fight for vision is brutal. 
Reality is not a movable feast.
What do we replace old mythology with? 
Respect, but new thinking for new times? 
2023 seems too far into the millennium to be 
defending old ways of thinking.
Unless your old thought be eternal, grace. 
Kindness from the heart. 
Do Justice, do kindness, be humble.

Faith deserves a reality check. 
All people deserve human rights. 
Faith forward, democracy. 
New faith meets old faith. 
To love is to resolve this. 

Anything is possible. 
Why not choose progress over destruction? 
You can’t escape the news if you’re a statistic.
Neither can your children, your children’s children.

Loving Oneness

And so it begins, nurturing mini beings.
Seedlings to get misted every day.

We will only have crazy weather now. 
Stormy weather that leaves us puzzled, in awe. 
Perplexing climate change is upon us. 
Leadership is maddeningly slow to act.
How many ways are there to say
The world is on fire?

What is it? What is it you’re chasing with that 
chaser? The knowledge doesn’t go away.

Seahorse, lion, both tender and fierce.

What would you do? Run away? Don’t run! Does that mean 
fair game for death by beating, taser, gun? Don’t even breathe. You’re not free. 
Yet. Ancient injustices are coming to the fore. We speak out for resolution.
Change is incremental. We need changes to flow creatively, progressively.

It’s a delicate balance we find. Surviving.

Why hide women’s faces, even the 
mannequins in the store? 
What is the power of a face? 
A woman’s face? Is it fear?

Facing death in the lives of 
three dear friends. Mortality is in the room.
Inescapable but each a brave fight with 
chemo and radiation side effects. 
Hope in the darkness. 
This too shall pass. 
Life and death are in delicate balance. 

So many set ups, traps, deals. 
Inescapable as death, credit cards. 
Buying your money twice through lending programs. Who would poison the Earth for more money? It’s never enough. It’s not infinite, abundance of Nature.

Time zones hit in waves across the planet.

Palms up, straight from the heart.
It’s ok to pray. All that good energy can heal. A ripple effect of love is on its way.

The corners of my mouth have found a new smile, on top of a blue sunny day.

Today the Sun is shining but I can’t find my smile deep down.

To love is to be there, for you, loved ones, Nature that sustains us. To love is a path filled with art, music, literature, film. With human endeavors to be better. 

To love the world and watch it spin toward death, this illusion of consumerism that keeps us wanting more, is but killing us. My heart aches to see a better world survive and thrive.

I’m learning to pray with all my might that it will not be the end of what we know as life. To rest, eat, exercise. To learn as long as I live.

Love is seeing the good in yourself, others, Nature. Love abounds if only we believe and see it all around us like magic.

It is magic. We are wizards, crones, poets, painters, healers. We breathe. We learn to love Oneness in time. There is still time.

Deep Thoughts from the Bus Stop

I have to wait until the sirens stop. 
My breathing is interrupted.
The breathless waiting to exhale.
Breathe in dust and fumes from the 
main streets. If dust could talk.
We do our best at the windows. 
Portals, reflections, lenses. 

How the whole landscape is altered
without a car. An opportunity to walk
In the rain with an umbrella. 
You won’t melt.
Why not take the bus?
Simple and efficient transit system. 
Reality of so many without means. 

Meet nice people on the bus, 
on the way there. Feel the wind on 
Your skin while you walk. Hear songbirds.
See shadows and light from the
Ground up to the trees and clouds. 
Walking changes everything.

In cars we seem to be floating above
People walking in the weather.
It’s an illusory distinction.
The world seems infinitely accessible
As long as you can afford gas, maintenance.
Drive your car for now, not forgetting the 
planet needs less, not more.

Stay tuned. 

We are blessed with abundance from the Earth.
To siphon resources instead of nurture
Is the old Industrial model. 
Instead, every bit of Earth could be
growing yummy fresh produce. 

Creative intelligence. Create your life. 
Recycling. Inventing. 
Make peaceful waves. 
Focus on your personal best.

Frida says, Hey, with flowers circling her head.
Surrounded by bones, blood, fruits. 
She’s furious.

A hurricane has been forming, swirling. 
Societies, networks, a web. 
We are bound to each other for best and for 
worst. Opposites of belief, opinion. 
Or opportunities? The storm is among us 
all despite how often we check the news.

Stellar zeppelins became obsolete. 
That one film of the tragedy was enough to 
force a way to new technology. 
Admit failure. 

Blimps now give us views with 
Precision cameras. 
Drones and Go-pros do the same. 
We are a society obsessed with visuals. 
Now drones can kill a mass of people.
Do we see that visual?
When has it gone too far?

Water. Resources. 
We are on a precipice. 
Can we evolve together? 
Where are we without our smart phones? 
Without electricity, without water, 
We know how to be without for a time. 

What is redemption now? 
To be absolved, to be free, 
but with a moral code? 

So many sharks in the tank, 
even they deserve kindness. 

We are all irrevocably connected
As a spider’s web, a tree’s roots. 
None of it is neatly tied, but complex as
Glowing highway trails at night. 

Peaceful breathing gets us back in place. 
Safety, clarity, moments of peacefulness. 
Up and out with feelings. 
Down, and grounded in the body. 

Whether we have a car,
Modern amenities, or not,
Sometimes breathing through it 
is all we have.

Amy Hoskins is a poet and visual artist creating with disabilities from her home in South Nashville, TN.  Hoskins has hosted the monthly Gestalt Poetry Open Mic, which is virtual for now, since 2017. She has had more than fifteen poems published in the US and Amsterdam.

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