Cheeky showmanship

I can feel the “old” cheeky showmanship returning yet the costume is not as I remembered;
the hat too tight
the dress too loose
and those colours clash with my skin.
There’s something new here,
changed so near the aftermath of battle, shattered in the false chatter of addiction
I am remembering something which fed my ego in a tantalizing mirage on which to I attache.
Dust off the little black dress
and highest of high heels
those little girls I shoved to the very back of my closet
They help me shine on the dance floor of my femininity dashingly familiar, the music fills my mind with times of triumph. I will her to smile above the roar of insecurities.
And yet,
these newly found moments of elder and Crone call to my maiden
and be in the reality of what you’ve seen.
Tell the Truth of these gritty school girl dreams as they collide with what has been and now arrived.
Open your eyes.
Will I pass this test passed down through the lines of my sisters?
Sung praises of mercy for the passion and chaos of my brothers?
Forgive my Father and Mother for what they did to me?
Yes. In this moment until the next.
So, I am learning to dance barefoot on the floor of my own Life.
Love begotten from the barrels of the heart beating too fast in my chest,
pointing me home.

Wake Up You Slumbering Life

wake up,
you slumbering Life
too accustomed to the status quo!
Like the first time your lover smiles
so alive, allowing the affair to unfold
shuddering souls
between tender words
and sacred space.

i taste the sound of your voice
between my lips
as if
you might finally
kiss me.
make a wish of me,
make a choice
make a move
make mention and prove
me wrong for believing I am unlovable,
as if you could.
yet it’s in the trying that we find the
delicacy of connection.

we can confine the screaming muscles of a mind
which work through muzzles
to unravel thoughts
we find
caught in a
confusing conscious efforts
for some
with a quest for The Truth.

empty hands reach to a sky
misunderstanding why
that early morning moment makes us cry out
for new love
when the one in front of you lay,
a true love,
nestled on your chest.
when will the present
be enough to salve your wounded heart?

but those eyes that doubt and shroud belief
really don’t want to be seen
and so focus on the bloody contrast between
what is
and the way we think it should be.

the changeable pulse runs amok
rattling teeth
until the next mirage bequeaths hope.
grasp to the last procession that pokes
a deep lumbering state,
drop kicked into the fire of

don’t mistake a fantasy for beauty
or play the fool when it comes to duty.
let the truth be reflected and bred,
un-mute the song you hear in your head
and sing out so loud even
God begins to dance.

at least your feet know what to do
one and then the next in front of you
one more test of passion
a lesson
too few have the courage to
breath in.
there is only this.

the quest to know just what to do
distracts the mind cursing through
doldrums days denied dreams we don’t need.
still the loss keeps us weeping for a savour
and all we know for certain,
and this I know for certain,
is you can know nothing
for certain.

Mira Black
May 14th 2017

Soul To Soul

There are too few times in life
when souls are given their reflection.
The fear and attraction
combined creates a distraction from any kind of
the fate we
find forging frailty,
nudges us towards


We crawl
over mountains,
bare foot over thorns,
to bare crosses we swore did not exist.

Denial persists
pretending we are solid
while destiny has plotted
placing your twin flame,
that juicy heart,
to shine brightly
at your darkest parts.

There is no logic or containment that can slow our stride,
running head first into tempered glass,
and crash
and stand
and dive

and fly.

This device of Universal ties between us two,
is consciously created to make us face what breaks us
through and through.

The sacrifice the point!

The blaze
burning bearers and illusions of invulnerability
with a choke hold
manifesting growth
only those
willing to face the spokes of
gifted from the Gods,
will survive.

We have been bought and sold,
dancing to Disney delusions,
the insurmountable tale
promising perfection.

Too late we learn
forever after does not
come inside a box.
And true love
is more uncommon than you think.

The loss of such a twin ember
sears through remembered trauma
cleansing karma,
and I am sorry for the drama
but never for the depth.

Some may doubt,
spinning in rejective,
grieving waves
which punish.


I call to each moonlit night,
for Him to have his way with me again.
And then,
I hold myself and cry a bit,
hearing my voice sing new melodies
mooring Mara’s spell
allowing desire to melt,
I talk to my self,
letting lonely out for a walk.
Then climbing, crawling, brawling
up and though stepping bravely back into…


when I sit still amidst the chaos,
broken bones,
sticks and stones
thrown by the banter of my mind,
I notice,
I’ve learned love of a different kind.

That Soul who crossed across my path,
razoring past and through and gone, and gone
again gone,
my Beloved’s gone,
returns from time to time whispering,


True love becomes its own reward.
Music muses moments mentioned only in undefinable rhyme.
Days and years may pass with no reason
but the season between them
carved in soft cement.

It’s only now
at dawn,
after fighting through the storms of our imaginations,
that we can see through the wicked shadows of naivety.

“Goodbye” the only words we cannot say.
So, instead we grasp hands for one last stand,
rocking slowly back and forth before the end.
Remembered friends forged from the playground of possibility.

Soul to soul flying free,
to be reborn on the next movie screen.
I think we two will meet again

inside Divinity.

Homeward Bound



It’s time to go home. The chapter between my fathers death years ago and this moment now, and now and then again now, takes me back to you through the vortex of my “Dark Night of the Soul”.

This heart has reached for the Sun and burned to the core of it’s own true nature for the simple devotion toTruth. It takes the whole of you. The longing of a love song in which I grew into my  Beloved’s symphony. This is the Phoenix journey back to Me. The way home.

There is a path revealing it’s self,  in technicolor and still murky in the pre dawn light of it’s own desires. Surrendering opens an unfamiliar rhythm dancing to my fire. Though my limbs are brand new, brandishing, giving up the fight, I fall inside a precarious parachute, opening with purpose and delight.

Music. My grounding stone. I am coming home to a brotherhood. I seek to be reminded of what it means to be “a good Man”. My sisters bid me, stand. I am tickled by renewed friendships and clan. I gather my Tribe inside sacred space.

I am.

Step in, show up and bare my soul to the unknown forces that bite and beguile me. That place of spontaneous composition and the evocation of creation reminding me of who we really are. A band of merry messengers travelling through our lives in search of meaning, purpose, reverberation, conscious rectification. And play. Most of all, let us play.

Winnipeg, MB


September 10th 2017

That is the very first clue of a scavenger hunt for my new show in development. Mark it on your calendar to check back here for details then book your time, your flight, your energy, your sitter, watcher, witness, driver, partners and friends. We gather at this rainbows end to discover new lessons and beauty, test of fire and duty brought to the stage by this Muse.

Talk to you soon.


Mira Black


Live @ Lolita’s Lounge

I am pleased to announce my return to the stage, after a year sabbatical, with the support of my Calgary band and crew. The venue is the same stage I last performed on a year ago and it’s the most romantic room in Calgary akin to cabarets and nightclubs from my grandfather’s time.

Joining will be the indefatigable Robbin Harris, the invincible Neil McVey and a new face to my show, the fuck-o-liciousness of Lisa Jacob. What? It’s a word…

Lolita’s Lounge

1413 – 9th Ave. S.E., Calgary AB


tickets at the door $15

*dinner reservations recommended