Radio Hearts

Radio Hearts

By Jason C. Motsch                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

Beating on the ground in a flowing rhythm,

The heart sends messenger birds from

It's fingertips into the red skies above.

Sacred songs of holy ritual expand

Into cosmic connections, distill into

Frequencies dancing from spirit radios.

Their wings flap furiously into reality,

Birdsong filling the air from my soul

to His waiting hands, ready to recieve.

My heart gladly leaves its dusty home

and beats from suggestion into exclamation,

Becoming one with my Love at last.

We soar the bandwidth eternal,

Coming in at a rate perceptible only

to our conversing ears.

I waited long.

I was rewarded.

I am free in love.

I am glad.                                

Untitled

Untitled
by Jason C. Motsch




Sitting with the day slowly drizzling out through my toes,
I try to write a poem, my first in months.
Nondescript job exited by me earlier into the diamond
Embrace of my Love's presence , kissing his smiling eyes with mine,
we sped home on well worn paths under the starless night.
The rain came later as we sat at the table eating,
And as I write this, my first poem in a long time,
I glean from the cuttings of the flowers of my mind
That fortune has rained on my soul and into my life through
my Beloved man, my husband, my all.  

Soul Currency

Soul Currency
by Jason Motsch



My vision takes the train 
across the room and 
gets off at the stop where
my guitar stands waiting.
The old man waiting there
picks it up and begins playing
a tune, his eyes pouring
out a question as if to 
say, "any money would be nice."
What is the currency of my soul?
Taking the instrument from his 
hands I start fashioning my own 
song.  Playing my 
life story, from the first time
my fingers tickled ivory,
walked hellborne hallways in search
of refuge amongst other children
who sought the harsh noise of the 
electric gods,
discovering the thrill of hitchhiking
throughout the countryside on a radio dial
that played music only I liked,
never feeling alone while holding
my fares for destinations full
of treble and bass clefs while
riding the bus on school and solitary
trips to abandoned houses where records
lay scattered in upstairs lofts amongst
books about acid and hippie propaganda.
Even stepping off the plane for awhile and parachuting
to the ground to land in foreign territory 
until discovering the familiar landmarks again
of monuments to my musical loves and lives,
until I grabbed the reigns and eeeeevened out.
Yes I am standing next to that old man where 
I have taken my guitar back,
and I pay with the only money I have,
my love for the song of life.
As honeybear says,
it's continued freshness of appreciation.
And I continue to appreciate.
A dance with the old gods of Egypt from
jazz to ancient deities of metallic monoliths,
a nap with the kittens who lead me to 
verdant fields where the streams 
of space and time flow free,
reaching into each other,
spontaneous and supercharged
from a moment played 
into this symphony from technological
fun and frolic,
we bring the divinites of other realms
to the table where we feast
on audio performances  from our eyes
into our souls.

Candle Light

Candle Light

by Jason Motsch

By candle light I write,

waiting for him to arrive home.

A quiet assurance of anticipation's delivery.

His face is divine.

He is a radiant starborne bird

Flying by my side as we walk the country roads

that quilt the hill country of our lives.

We paint a dream together realized on a

Love splashed canvas of living rainbow light.

We avoid the radar of vultures and 

Soar into each other's days and nights

like angels of old Gods,

their eyes gleaming like candle light,

shining from my eyes as I write this tonight,

waiting for him to walk through the door.

God I'm in love!

Hero

Hero

by Jason Motsch

The wind blew our way today,

scent of possibility and lovelight in its caress.

My spirit joined hands with yours

Long ago, sailing across galaxies

on currents of passion and pristine

grace.

Today, the gusting wind pushed my soul

into yours and cried out for joy in realization

of an ultimate desire.

Under the warm gaze of your gentle soul

I construct my half of this journey,

Equal and infinitely sourced in the light

of God.

We  create and channel blessings alike 

in the fullnes of time that takes refuge with us

under the forest boughs dreaming starlight eternal.

So much to discover in this land of ours.

So many pieces of peace join together 

and form the canvas of our bond.

I love you my hero.