Bullshit Honey…

This liberal pink-clad,

bullshit artist,

is pissing me off,

In the middle of the night.

Angry rhetoric,

takes heedless flight,

Sticky sweet honey words,

Not good for your teeth,

attracts flies and wasps,

in the same way they like to nest,

In other kinds of organic things.

Maybe the intention was good,

You can’t really tell

With the heart felt lies

Those lips can spell.

This isn’t the time

to hide behind the spirit that calls

using words and concepts to bamboozle us all.

Eyes that say one thing

while the mouth spells out thoughts

Seems you have lied so long

you are completely lost.

The woman in pink

Grapples for truth

Leaving claw-marks in it all.









Home – a poem

Meditation walk in the morning sun

letting my mind wander until there are no more thoughts.

geese call wild in the key of D

trying to tell me that it is

ON SURRENDERall about being free.

since not a soul is stirring I sit with the river

at the base of the mountain

and wait for the rocks to tumble all over me.

But nothing moves,

only the steady whir and burr

Of old worn thoughts that I release.

Stretching legs and arms I flow

feeling the ground steady and sure now

beneath the feet thatnot-so-long-ago

could not fly.

The river says

there is no one waiting to tell me

what they think

Or what I think

no one to correct me

Direct me

Protect me.

Cause that gets really old.

“this is all in my imagination”

the river whispers loud enough

So that I can hear.

And frankly speaking I have to believe the river

because he is so old

and has been recycling himself

over and in and through all time

returning always to this place

just waiting for me to come and

Ask the right questions.

The mountain stands behind the river

arms folded across her breast

Appearing calm and pensive as she considers river’s advice

(about the truth of course)

She sends the geese popping out over the ring of trees

that is her crown.

Geese emissaries acting as her voice

which would otherwise be silent

(except for when she really has something to say:

please see: Avalanche)

and frankly speaking

I have to believe the mountain

for she has been waiting for me

through all time

to return to this place

where the geese sing

to remind me that we have always been here


And by the river I awaken and see that

I have never left home.



















Follow Your Song

sun_light_energyThis was a day

of tightly closed doors,

open wide windows,

and really lots more.

So, let’s block the hallway,

Make solid stairs,

This is a day of,

“I really don’t cares”.

Admit it.

We all like these days,

They make us feel better,

Moving forward somehow,

Like words in need of letters.

Call to the stars,

My brother and sisters,

Listen carefully to the wind,energy clearing  painting

For it speaks only in whispers.

Ground your feet deep

Into the earth,

and to a new vision,

you will give birth.

Be true to yourself,

And the spaces you keep,

find the fire inside,

and always dig deep.

Keep your heart open wide,ON SURRENDER

to hearing your part,

you can’t go wrong,

when you follow your heart,

You know can’t go wrong,

when you follow your heart.

You know…

Moving forward is the natural affair of hu-man

No matter what the time,

cause or space – can’t or can ,

We are all moving from one to another plan.

never does anything really stand still,

somehow we are all falling down some old forgotten hill.

Ride the wave, I have been toldOcean-waves-1

Have some fun,

Before you get old,

There ain’t nothing here,

that can really go untold.

Don’t hold the world,

On  your small shoulders

let go of the past

And put down that boulder.

Look to get inspired,

to you own hearts desire789

till you run out of tears

throw your self in the water.

Hail down by the sea,

Hail to the sea and the city down under

I’ve come to wash my heart

you can’t go wrong

when you follow your song

You know can’t go wrong,

when you follow your song


indexToday was a rain day-

A dream day

A “whisper worries away day”.

Blissfully soaked and quiet,

a shivering hush of whispering wind

taps on my window

like an old friend.

To her pen she says

“I remember the day you loved me”rainydayswallpapercollectionseriesone01

when the rain came in buckets and droves!

Where falling leaves and branches,

Made impassable roads.

Trees stacked themselves up against the onslaught,

of sudden and fierce the winds,

thought and consideration erased from within.

Likely clearing the trees,

making them ready for sleep,

images33For the winter is cold

and the freezing goes deep.

And once again,

Just like back then

The rain falls.

Birds nestled under wings

on days like these,

prefer not to sing.

Cradled in safe places,

High above the earth,

Lofty in their perch.

Let their songs

run wild through empty minds,

come to rest and fill empty spaces!

Beautiful-Birds-in-Rain-WallpaperSilly rain soaked birds,

High up in the trees,

Come into the sun

won’t you please?

Writers take to their pens

where they try to mend

Something that cannot be named

with a word or thought.

So we sit back and wait.

After all…

Today is a rain day.




Go gently into this day

take each moment with careful step

eyes open in your nature

For somewhere inside of you

is Truth its very self.

You are loved –

and you are love.

Some grand and awesome future awaits you,

Take a first step,

Look around again.

After the first  one

the only step

that we know how to take,

be amazed.

The second has not yet been invented.

And it is never guaranteed.

Honour the heart that beats in your chest

Amazingly without need of your assistance,

or thought,

or any big plans your complicated mind can conjure.

Imagine having to think…

“I will live for one more beat!”

If you don’t believe in miracles,

You’re not looking in the right place.

Cherish the random acts of love that will cross your path today.

Step through time,

into the next minute.

Breathe into the next space,

Where you stand – or sit

alone – or accompanied.

You are still your own beautiful self

in all these precarious contexts.

Walk with the higher things

that beckon you to remember

that your nature is not fear

or sadness

or even aloneness.

You always have God

Or the beautiful dead that protect you

shielding you from

The dark and scary things.

Your true self lies

in the next discovery

the next choice.

What does your heart say?

It seems that the heart always says…

Carry on.

You are loved

and you are love.


August 19


The world is reeling,

And I can’t sleep

Cause its shaking us

Right off our feet

We’re one step away

From going in too deep

Crowds roar and fire

As they take to the streets.

You can’t tell us, ,

It’s gonna be alright,

When entire nations,

Are ready to fight.

There’s no going backwards,

From this point on, It might be better,

To forget right and wrong.

Some who protect us,

And others defend,

Kids in the street,

The sword and the pen.

But the world keeps spinning,

As she is bound to do.

The one she needs to heal,

Is me and you.

Forget what you think,

And drop everything,

Cause times are a changing,

And we’re on the brink.

Catastrophe doesn’t have to be,

All so bad,

If we put down our weapons,

And walk hand in hand.

I know that sounds hippie,

But what is our choice?

Take back our nations,

With our hearts and our voice.


there is nothing stronger,

That a like minded group,

We are the creators

Of this messed up soup.

So another child is dead

And we are responsible

For allowing the fear,

That brought on this trouble.

Wake up from your dreams,

It isn’t all bad,

Remember, you are bigger,

Then what you think you had.

We have one more day

Let’s start it right

Black red or white

We’ve all got to give up this fight

Dedicated to Ferguson, Missouri and every other messed up place


There is nothing more magical b46b5b382ed0fc2b0999b04319a1e8a6

than being in the barn

right before a torrential spring rain.

Horses munching on green hay,

The sweet smell of grass starting to rise up ,

Birds in a frenzy announcing the impending shower.

It feels like healing.

The announcement of new life

all over and everywhere around

It releases all of the sludge

from the season of icy indifference.

Welcome spring!

Maybe my heart is waking up?

Let’s dance!





The Sentence

floating_dream_bridge__by_instant_idiot-d304pnf1.jpgSometimes writing is easy for me, and sometimes it’s not.  And at other times, the only way to begin again is simply to just – begin again. So I tried to inspire myself and find a new method of expression – I came up with an electronic tablet. A curious, fascinating and distracting little toy I decided right away I would begin to learn how to write on. As I was trying to figure out all the options, my original idea of sitting down to write was long gone in the fun of pushing buttons and shifting screens and paying demo videos. All my best intentions lost in a haze of brain numbing technology so I thought to myself – “I wonder what would have happened had the tablet been available to Shakespeare?”  Here’s what I came up with…



Falling down into it,

Let the hesitation of thought,

The interruption of the natural curvature of a phrase,

New fangled bedazzled,

Images into taps on a virtual screen

In this nearly real world.

Here I wonder …

”Had been his only option,

Would William have impaled himself so willingly,Image

On his old Quill?

Would Mohammed have been commanded by the angels

To call his Divine Programmer,

And draw his mighty prose?

Sketching it,

Upon something so small and colourless

As Bits and Bytes?

A description of GodImage

In this approximate flowchart of near existence.

I doubt it. Seriously?

But you must admit that

There IS something remarkably mighty

About the electric thought

That thunders from your heart

Cascading though unbidden,

Spilling forth ink on pulp.


Here is how we have connected Image

Heart to heart ~ Soul to soul

Throughout all of time!

Perhaps in different ways,

This is just another of the same.

We will always find a way to see

All words are like exquisite trees,

Rooted only in what we see.



This is the voice of Reason.

Will there be a time?

Where finger’s tip

Replaces pen and ink?

So, What would be lost then?

Are we not more effective with autocorrect? Image

And as for the prime directive?

Why do we even try?

The past is so unreal ~

And the future just flew by.


Forgive me if I sound like my parents;

Five miles barefoot ‘n all,

But the future looms dark,

And we are all in for a great fall.

So let brothers be brothers,

And sisters abide.

Wherever you can,

Let your own song take flight.


These are the things we are given to learn with, Image

Whether with pen and ink

In the dark as we think.

The day may come

When we will be silenced.

But for now, pen in hand –

We will continue our sentence.










peaceful-river-pebble-rocks-waterThe Creator of us All,

Is a great river,

And you are one of a million billion stones

Dropped in,

To roll and tumble,

Together and apart.

 The river will move you at Her will,

Guiding and protecting.

But you will resist…

For that is the way of stone.

You begin rough and edgy,

Fused to the tension of the heartstrings

And Attached to the mountain,

Rooted and Unmoving.

But the Universe will have her way!

And grief and fear will chisel at you,

Spurring you on to change,LittleRiver

Until you can do nothing else,

But let go and be

Torn free

Only hang precariously

From one precipice

To another.

Until suddenly

 You are propelled into the flow!

Released by the All that is everything

That which loves you most.

But we forget – For that too is the way of the stone…

Rocked by circumstance and suffering,

Each impacting your solid self,

You cannot help but resist!


In time,

Resistance is diminished.

One by one,

The solid heavy pieces of yourself,

The ones you thought you really needed,

Crumble easily away.

In this only – there is no choice.

Sometimes quickly – Sometimes slowly,

You become stranded at times,

Cornered by other stones.

Until you see that they are not your way,

And you finally surrender to the call of the river.

Now your edges have beveled away,

And you are LIGHT!

You begin to maneuver with ease,

Wallowing in your new found freedom,

And in a final CRACK!

You shudder and open,

 A tiny pebble now reduced to

The Truth.

An ethereal sparkle – perfect and unhindered,

You are moved gently onto the shore,

Only to find yourself

Snuggled sweetly beneath the foot of a small child

Building castles in the sky.

And there – your soul is released

Into the All that you are.


Josee Brault