We Are Like The Seasons (For Paulina)

Seasons 1
We are like the seasons
of the earth we so embrace
Cells spinning in circles, vibrating like the stars
Invisible wonders in our bones & blood
tumbling like the cosmos, ever expanding

Springtime we appear like the wildflowers
Splattering our colors across the plain
Our innocence bright & unshakable
Our destinies fresh as the early dew

Summer brings boundless days & balmy nights
We play long & run hard
Every horizon, a high adventure
Every encounter, a magical affair

Autumn slows us down with its deep, rich tones
Taking time to look around
in ways we hadn’t fathomed
& feeling the cool, calming winds of change

Winter graces us
with its clean crystal blessing
Ice & rain to wash away
all what the seasons have rendered
all these things which have formed our worlds
& branded our souls, we let them wash away
let them go, we give them back
to the mysterious night
And while outside the days are short
the field is barren & the sky so cold
Within, ah within our hidden den
it’s forever safe & warm
Glowing cavern, Sacred Heart
In all ways radiating
with every love or kindness we have ever known
Like a baby bear we crawl back
into this shelter
Back to the Sacred Mother
who watches over as we slumber
& then awakens us from our dusky dream
so that we may witness
the rising sun
Seasons 2


Posted in Photos, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Four-legged Angels

If you’re anything like me, animals have always been a very important part of your life and have filled your days with joy and love..

Angels 17






























Angels 31



























































































































































































































































































DEDICATED IN LOVING MEMORY TO THE GREATEST HOUSECAT TO EVER LIVE ON EARTH OR IN HEAVEN, Jack (2009-2015) AKA:  Jack of Hearts, Pookey, Pookeybutt, Jack-o-lantern, Light-em-up-funny-face-jack-o-lantern, Pumpkin Head, Funny Face, Stinkpot, Jackpot, Mugsy, Jacko, Rambling-jack-highway-cat-extraordinaire, Mugsy Nose, The Crunchmaster, Pookadilly, Pookadelic, Pooka, Coyote Cat, Jackie, Jackie-kins, Pookey-kins, Spooky Pookey, Summersault-coyote-cat, Double-patty-burger-butt, His-Royal-Pookeyness, Happy Jack, Purr-monster, Emotio-cat, Little-sheister-shenanigans-cat, Rascal Cat, Big Guy, Water Cat, Catfish, Jack-in-the-box, Blackjack, Long Cat, The Bodyguard, Professor Pookey, Fireside-terrace-cat, sweetsie-sweetpea and Jackie Bear…

Posted in Other Stuff, Photos | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Cell

The human brain is a mystery that not even the highest scholar can fully decipher…While simultaneously running our bodies, it connects us to further dimensions of awareness, higher sources, unseen life forces…Releases hormones and other chemicals which not only makes us who we are and controls our reactions to the world around us, yet is also the conduit for our physical selves to angelic spheres, those other plateaus of life and spirit.

So many high thinkers from all sides of creation and existence spend so much time and energy separating the spirit from the cell…It seems to have to be one way or the other, take your choice…Meanwhile in reality the cell is the spirit and the spirit is the cell, all is one.

Not even the most enlightened soul could dismiss science and not even the most brilliant scientific mind could deny that the frailty of their work rests on the fact that spirit never dies.

The inner earth is rumbling
Cells of our temples crumbling
Deep in earth’s caverns
most forbidden answers lie
like the mysterious unexplored
regions of our mind
Listen to the earth
Love with all you are
Spin those cells and light the temple
with your precious shining star

Posted in Other Stuff, Photos, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | 8 Comments

Prayer of the Haunted Heart

This one is from “More Ghost Poems”, another of my nine self-published poetry chapbooks circas 1999-2004:

God please take these feelings of fear
from my bones and my breath
until my time has come
to meet the angel of death
Take these haunted dreams
shadows in the night
Take this haunted heart
into your flaming light
So many words left unsaid
So many things to settle still
God please take me into your golden dome
Use me as you will
and then bring me home

Posted in Other Stuff, Photos, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Angel Prayer

This little prayer is from 1999, originally appearing in “12 Poems At The End Of Another 1000 Years”, the first of  my self-published poetry chapbooks:

O angels please take this mysterious sorrow
from my heart of hearts
Take these dark spots from my soul
Remind me of the simple ecstasies
the privilege of these clumsy senses
O angels I thank you
for helping me to remember
to be thankful for this air we breath
though it’s veiled in toxins
For the ability to hear
though the music has a price
For the special treat of taste
of the bitter with the sweet
For your generous gift of feeling
though it sometimes burns so deep
And for this vision I can only hope
will be clear and fair for the rest of my years
here on this planet, within this system
of light and dark, contained by this galaxy
which at once seems so strange
and so very much like home

Posted in Other Stuff, Photos, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Live A Little

Originally appeared in “Ghost Poems”, one of my nine chapbooks of poetry self-published between the years 1999-2004:

Is this what it all comes down to?
We live a little
Never fully understanding the mechanics of self
or the purpose of these physics in motion
We just plug along each new day and
try to make our way
and then we die
No matter our endeavors
Never mind our efforts
It’s inevitable
It always turns out the same
This is why it’s so very important
to closely examine our usage of time
perhaps reevaluate what really counts
Because it always turns out the same:
a little life, a lot of death
Sometimes I feel like a ghost
moving through each new day
each new frame of this light and dark system
A phantom in my own world
Invisible, insignificant
to the proceedings around me
But I know all what’s come to be
is an illusion
The strange evolution
which has come to pass so quickly
all a passing dream
And I know there must be something more
An essence of something true
A common grain
which always stays
despite the fallen garden

Posted in Photos, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Elder Dream

All I wanted was to live a long life
A grand, foolish life–to grow old
I didn’t think about the ones
I’d lose along the way

To live an abundant life
full of mix-matched love
magical emotion, rowdy adventures
I didn’t even think of all the goodbyes
The slaughtered intimacies
The sacred tears and moments
that would trail off into history

To be an old woman
Rocking on a porch somewhere
Full of stories, visions and dreams
I didn’t take into consideration
maybe no one will be listening

Posted in Photos, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | 9 Comments

An Easter Story

It comes to mind every year around this time
Funny how things work, a stranger
30 minutes over 30 years ago
Of course I don’t even remember his name
I’d just landed my first job in that neighborhood
Was pouring drinks in old town Monterey
Tending to the chain of gypsy souls that flowed in and out there
A wild assortment of fleshly ghosts indeed, a deep end gathering
In walks this man, a lone man
So completely alone, you could feel it
An empty zone, a pillar of alone-ness
with a vacant smile and haunted eyes
He takes a seat at the bar
A slow day, empty room, lazy hour
Juke box tunes and dice cup clatter
watching the sidewalk traffic
No one had cellphones then, no texting, no PC’s
It was a time for real living
You wanted to know, you asked
you went out and found out
You had something to say, you just said it: fretting, feeling, fucking and fighting whatever came down, it was a first-hand affair
It was a time for naked souls exposed to life’s natural elements
As soon as this man sat down and started drinking he poured out his story to me
And how did I know his was for real?…you may be asking
I just did, I’ve always had my way of knowing
The real question would be why he told it, why he poured it onto me
He said something about my face
found something in my eyes
Maybe I just always attract ’em
Maybe he knew we’d never meet again and simply had to unload his burden
Brute with a conscience, hit man’s lament
He’d killed repeatedly, a hired hand
Not exactly the type of line one would use to flatter a girl
I could see that every pore of his soul was on fire
I had never met so lonely a man
He could never have a real friend, not ever in this life
because his life was a pack of lies
and he had to keep moving
Money?  Sure, tons of it, but blood money
Nice houses, plenty of them, one right after the other
He never wanted for that kind of thing
But was in too deep to ever change
And his life, he said, was like one of those chocolate bunnies
Shiny, colorful and full of promise
Looking so good on the exterior
Yet nothing but empty air beyond a very thin layer of sweetness and foil
an empty, hollow space inside
This was right around Easter Sunday, come to think of it
And every time the season passes
I couldn’t see an Easter basket without thinking of him
and wondering if he ever found asylum from his evil deeds
And with every year for me comes a little bit deeper understanding:
Is not each of our lives a little like one of those hollow shiny rabbits?
Dazzling and impressive to the eye
yet ladened down with guilt and fear and empty promises?
Are we all not somewhat artificial?
Living for the things that look good and spend well
but constantly ignoring the cold dark void within our every soul?
Though not all of us have killed by the force of our hand
Haven’t we all been guilty of murder in some form or another?
Killing the light, destroying the spirit that connects us
Forgetting to be grateful
Quick with judgement, envy, betrayal
And always so slow to forgive
As though the empty scorn never existed within our own heart
Collecting the grudges, lining up our scapegoats for the fall
Thoughtlessly censoring the love letter to Jesus
from that sad, remorseful broken-hearted Judas

Posted in Other Stuff, Photos, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Napa Valley: Do We Really Need Another Winery?

Napa ValleyThis is a departure from my usual “M.O.”  I never considered myself to be much of an activist, even though I have some pretty strong opinions on many of this world’s injustices.  I generally get too twisted up by all the skullduggery, word trickery and outright mind-fuck that goes along with the politics of any given issue, and therefore find that I do much better behind the scenes, instead channeling those energies into things like reflection, power of thought and prayer.  But there comes a time when a person has to stand up and say “HEY!

So this is the deal:  a friend of mine lives in a quiet little community just outside of the town of Napa, California called Circle Oaks, and the quality of life there, not to mention the life of many animal and plant species, may soon drastically change for the worse.  In the tradition of ruthless, profit-seeking development, another big company wants to go in and build another huge winery directly above them, which would entail major desecration of the land and it’s many inhabitants.

We’re talking dynamite blasting, heavy machinery operations and run-off of pesticides right in their “backyard”.  Also, the water resources will be as good as sucked dry for the wildlife and  for the human community, depleting from a relatively new water reserve system that my friend was charged big money for and is still paying on!   This, smack in the middle of what has been dubbed a “drought” situation.  And, as though adding insult to injury, the company somehow finagled their way around the planning zones and will, if this all goes through, eventually build more homes on the “winery” land and rake in some astronomical profits.

Yes, Napa Valley is world famous for it’s beautiful wines, but let me tell you people, it’s not the love of the ancient art of wine-making that is prospering there these days, not even close.  The days of “poetry in a bottle” are long gone and replaced by, or metamorphosed into, for the most part, big money, obscenely big money, profit and gain and that’s it in a nutshell.  The people wanting to go in and destroy this land above Circle Oaks do not live there and do not care what this venture will do to the area.

Even many of the locals–of course wanting to defend the “local” industry–are defending the project, or at best misrepresenting it and the voice of the opponent, the people.  A Napa city sign positioned at the beginning of the road to Circle Oaks and stating that the road is not fit for heavy trucks has mysteriously disappeared.   The proposed “winery” and all the tearing up of the mountainside would be on the “back side” out of view from the downtown area and therefore not assaulting to the eyes of the purse-wielding tourist.  The Napa newspaper published an article mistakenly insinuating that the citizens of the communities which will be drastically affected by the construction are completely against tourism, cut and dry.  And, of course, buzz words and key phrases are being thrown around like dimes at a coin toss; all the standard ones like “creating jobs”, “personal freedom” and the “capitalist way”, etc. etc…capped off, in this case, by “wine-maker’s rights”…

So before I get carried too far away here on my soap box, maybe you could take a look at the website that these good citizens have put together in order to protect their homes, and the homes of many four-legged friends.  They can explain their situation much better than I.  Please take a look, maybe see how you can help, at least maybe by offering up a little prayer.  Too much of our beloved planet is being shamefully desecrated in the name of powerful big money.  The next brutal assault on Mother Earth may be in your backyard.

Posted in Other Stuff, Photos | Tagged , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Pennies On The Floor

This was originally written in 2003; a version of it appeared in 2004 in “Jewels In The Dust And Other Hidden Trinkets”, one of my nine self-published poetry chapbooks:

Now I’ve thought it over long and hard
The ways of this world
Dog eat dog, survival
Get ahead, get more
This high-dollar mentality destroying the globe
Now I’ve lived in poverty
and in grandiose places
Stepped high into the night
on a gilded path, into a golden skyline
Begged for my dinner, dined off of gilded wares
Sailed the high seas of luxury
Counted my pennies on the floor
Threw my coins to the sky
And all I have now
is what I’ve learned from all those lifetimes
That riches don’t come from the ground
or the bank vault or deep pockets
Learned the hard way
just how much money matters
And now here in this world spinning out of control
where everyone grapples for another dollar
and too much is just never enough
I sit barefoot in a human garden
where strange hungry souls
grow up all around me
directing their passion and their inquiries
toward capital gain, a basic mockery
of the system of life
(it will all wash away soon)
Now I sit counting pennies on the floor
Always just enough to get by
Counting on my good health
on a beat to beat basis
Counting on the angels
for my heart to keep pumping
Thankful for the simplest things
in this ruthles, fast-moving high dollar society
This isn’t an excuse for not having nothing
(there never was an excuse for me anyway)
I could have easily acquired all the trappings
of a cushy bloated life
Could have gone through the ruthless channels
But wanting all that stuff
fat money, power trimmings
It never did feel right to me
It always felt so incredibly wrong
And so here now I merely exist in the moment
while the years keep spinning on
and generations of whoremongers and super achievers
dash and spin past me
like fiery meteorites blazing past
a clumsy old planet stationed in time
into the nothingness of space
at incredible speed
to their inevitable demise
I step aside and let them go by
And it really doesn’t matter much to me
Everyone has their custom-made lessons
their legacies to leave
We all have to go sometime
Me, I have my “what if’s” like anybody
Wondering if I’ve used my time wisely
to meet the requirements of this soul’s education
But when all is said and done
one has got to stand firm in their heart
knowing that they have
And as I stand beneath an endless sky
watching the stars and planets as great as our world
So huge and great, and coming across to me now
as tiny points of light
When I look upward into this magical void
it seems only natural to me
that none of the earthly affairs
we strive for and worship and dwell on
could ever be as important as we make them
And the only thing that matters at all
would be the riches of your heart and soul
the light that burns inside
I would rather die knowing this
than live for the things that destroy love’s true worth

Posted in Photos, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments