Click To See Books Authored By Elizabeth Martina Bishop Shaman’s Lunchtime CafeFebruary 12, 2018 Goats Descending a MountainFebruary 11, 2018 The Green Knight of New MexicoFebruary 11, 2018 Land of Milk and HoneyFebruary 11, 2018 The Woman Who Lived on Bird StreetFebruary 11, 2018 Walking Between WorldsFebruary 11, 2018 Second SightFebruary 11, 2018 Upon Reaching A Foreign ShoreFebruary 11, 2018 Cosmic ExcuseFebruary 11, 2018 Camille’s ReturnFebruary 11, 2018 Dreaming of Karmic BirdsFebruary 11, 2018 Maiden from Mullingar: Irish TalesFebruary 11, 2018 Canary PortalsFebruary 11, 2018 Winds of ChangeFebruary 11, 2018 MandalaFebruary 11, 2018 MeditationFebruary 11, 2018 Stonehenge Blues: Memoir of a Solitary SeerFebruary 11, 2018 BravadoFebruary 11, 2018 Caravan of DreamsFebruary 11, 2018 That The Soul May Clap Its HandsFebruary 11, 2018 Scaring Birds From a Bodhi TreeFebruary 11, 2018 If Ever You Lived BeforeFebruary 11, 2018 A Poet’s PortfolioFebruary 11, 2018 Cobbled Streets Beneath Balconies of AirFebruary 3, 2018 Bear Blessing SalmonFebruary 3, 2018 Dance Until the Mountains SingFebruary 3, 2018 Leaving No Stone UnturnedFebruary 3, 2018 Codfish on a Tin PlateFebruary 3, 2018 A Pearl of Great PriceFebruary 3, 2018 New Poems: Diaphanous and FlowingFebruary 3, 2018 Horses Unafraid of LightFebruary 3, 2018 She Who Brings the RainFebruary 3, 2018 Star GazingFebruary 3, 2018 La Naissance des Jeux Floreaux: Destiny of Dancing BridesFebruary 3, 2018 Dance for the Coyote WomanFebruary 3, 2018 Snowflake the Magic CatFebruary 3, 2018 Honoring the EldersJanuary 18, 2016 As Long As We Both Shall Dance: Tarot and YouJanuary 18, 2016 Praise Song for a Dab ChickJanuary 18, 2016 Shaman DreamingJanuary 18, 2016 Black SwanJanuary 17, 2016 Mistaken IdentityJanuary 17, 2016 The Road To Tramore: 104 poems and 3 playsJanuary 17, 2016 Beach Side MotelJanuary 17, 2016 Pavlova AwakeningJanuary 17, 2016 The Mud Palace of AberdeenJanuary 17, 2016 Round House DancesJanuary 17, 2016 And Then I Heard Them SingingJanuary 17, 2016 Floating WorldJanuary 17, 2016 The Sleeping Lady of MaltaJanuary 17, 2016 Your Grandmother Knew How To Read CardsJanuary 16, 2016 Wind RushingJanuary 16, 2016 MalviniaJanuary 16, 2016 The wedding will not take placeJanuary 16, 2016 Leaping into the UnknownJanuary 16, 2016 Soulmate in a KayakJanuary 16, 2016 Feathers in the WindJanuary 16, 2016 Whoever Comes This Way: the Sedona PoemsJanuary 16, 2016 Seeds of Loving KindnessJanuary 16, 2016 The Secret Lives of PoetsJanuary 16, 2016 Words Not Yet SpokenJanuary 16, 2016 Tunnel VisionJanuary 16, 2016 Selected Poems Volume Two: Through Waves of Light a Cloud Draws Down Kindred BreathJanuary 16, 2016 The Wisdom of the Lake that Knows no StirringJanuary 16, 2016 When A Window OpensJanuary 16, 2016 Selected Poems 1987-2015January 16, 2016 French WindowsJanuary 16, 2016 The Goddess Lives at the Columbus CaffeJanuary 16, 2016 The Wind that Shakes the BarleyJanuary 16, 2016 My Feet Talk to the RoadJanuary 16, 2016 Elizabeth Martina Bishop Author, Performance Poet, Choreographer, Visionary Artist Love, having no object and no face If she the one reclaiming dreaming In momentary time and place, With her cloak of many colors, still soldered on, Yet, I still honor my memory of her, the Beloved, Is she still the one belonging to the human race. Saidi lights a candle in honor of her relatives. Fear The door was already closed, Goddess left open. Who could reverse the river? Already flowing Into the beautiful mask of summer, Words misshapen and misspoken. Fear, how did this happen? Nothing so beautiful as this fear. This fear of love, this fear of time forever misspent and broken. False ReportingOf late, my heels bend and burn Before an unfeeling incline, Marked by pock-marked Desert landscape filled With deciduous apricot orchards. Each of the whorls of my fingertips Numbed, are now sent reeling backward. More.... How It Was At the Deliberate Coffee Shop of the MindWhen she spoke, the heavens, the waters parted behind her Leaving nothing to chance. But what happens when corporate Takes over? I asked. Read More If You Know About Spirit StonesA spirit stone owns its own voice is fleshed with granite skin it knows it chirps and bleeds Spirit Stones I’m Hard-Pressed to Imagine A Seismograph in Pidgin English If the world originally without a blemish, How come a molten core suppressed Remains unopened? Clearly, the one veiled, widowed and alone, Cannot hold me up against a forceful wind. More