Downtown Albany 90's

Pavlos

We came together because of the Magus, Stylianos,
So I didn’t feel strange dancing around nude with you.
As we dervished, I saw images
Of your home in Cypress.
One day I remember waking from my dream that was laughing at me.
I now know him as my dream narrator.
He laughed at me for not knowing
I was climbing the stairs of the Parthenon.

-Sonja J. Phinney 30-Oct-2006 (for Pavlos)

Arcturus

Arcturus

A costumed pronouncement of we
hungers a feeding of dreams and enchantment.

The meadow’s dew is pulled up
And glows of amber and mustard
fading chatter in the grooves of the woodwork-
Chamber trails.

Blue eyes in my arms
peer out to capture the amplified pulse of Arcturus.

-Sonja 9-9-03

You Wrinkled De Fold

A smothered flame
Sap sticks to the body, attracting flies and bees.

Watch it buddy, you’re steppin’ the lines.

Only hear what you want to hear
Placing fragments together and making
An incorrect sentence;
A faulty spiral encouraged to collapse.

The dance is in step;
They lyrics make no sense
And are eaten by a sick bear with honey
On it’s lips.

-SJP 1989

(for Abdu at a drum weekend in Ashokan who was so bold to serenade me, shower me with unwanted gifts, follow me back to my home and ask his wife if it was ok to take me as his own.)

Nepal poems

Sing with the vehicle we have made out of heaven.
The water doesn’t long for something special.
It moves with wind and stone.
What particle of it have you picked up and remembered?
The root you take makes it better where honey is made.
Flowers are abundantly open, Nepal.


© 1996 Sonja J. Phinney

It took years to clothe myself in this state of human existence 
Coming down, feet on the ground.
How many bodies in one body?
And how does one see?
Three bodies follow route.
Leaves flourish, seeds fall away.
Three bodies flying
Who can see, vibrates over sea and tree.

© 1996 Sonja J. Phinney

There are some things that are not explained simply by machinery.
A wire alone doesn’t create electricity.
We must remember it is not just the body alone that creates this energy.
Don’t leave this up to the nervous system, the brain, the being alone.
It is the house, in which we enter,
So be free of the womb.

© 1996 Sonja J. Phinney

Now, all praises are seen divinely in his light.
The gardens, hu
Playing with children, hu
Gatherings of meditation, hu
You are the child in my heart.
All is moving towards, not away from.


© 1996 Sonja J. Phinney

William B. Tell

Time to go now

Can I take that apple from your hand

And play William B. Tell?

The everyday environment

In it’s hostile simplicity.

An annoyance made larger than life

Penetrates like rocks through glass.

If I click my heels three times, could I go home?

Find the escape hatch

Where I can only hear white noise, sand, and rain?


Sonja J Phinney © 17-Jul-2006

Surfacing the Pond

I skate round the cold,
About the edges.
My spyglass hunts for a selection
of bold and useful connection.

I circle the distance
between the figures
and sip on that which is hot and
ignites my senses.

A snow rabbit squats at guard,
and I am hiding away a pocket-full of gatherings.

©-Sonja J Phinney 1982

Effulgent

Would best describe the pulling in of my surroundings
As I sit in this room of artists.
Personalities of restless angels meld into their gestures.
Floors and walls become my mental tablet where images
Circus around by default.
My own gestures fly out from centuries past.
Sometimes with the innocence of spring.
Sometimes, with the determination of a fighter.

©-Sonja J. Phinney 08-Apr-2006

Burrs in Winter

As the drapery folds, another stitch is sewn.
The burrs stash away snow in their sticky thimble thumbs.
I sit wooden in the living room.

Around me the walls feel my breathing.
Water still drips, cats still play...
Held in a pose simply watching the other hand move.

© 1990 Sonja Phinney in High Falls, NY

Quiet Misdemeanors

My motions are transgressive in this almost soundless environment.

Angels weave through the Jinn dancing like Lalla

Nude around the fire light;

Giving off Sophrosyne smiles

And grabbing the sparks

To ignite this wondrous illusion.


©-Sonja J Phinney 05-Jan-2006