I am opened

I can See

Revelations aren’t mere fascinations to me

Oh sweetest of all symphonies

I hear your voice sing to me in melodies unparalleled

Held in a Heart that is ours

There is no procrastination

Or destination

Time deconstructed

“Vacation” is the true state of our nation

If only we would give it our attention

In each moment

Do you get it

It is not merely about elation

Or some kind of Light-Only Spiritualization

But complete connection to What Is Now –

The Way

The Tao

Stop your desperate searching for inspiration

Give to yourself your own imagination

Manifestation only one element

Of All that Is

We could never Live

In only Light

The fight is the Matrix

Takes us out of the flow

Accept them both – the ebb, the flow

And begin to Know

The truth of your Soul

That One is always Two ‘til there’s complete integration

Which then  — exclamation! – creates

The Whole.


I am Radiance

I am the Joyous Dancer

Mountains still the dissonance

See your Great Accomplishments!

Feel your own Benevolance

They speak through me

To beg you:


Know yourself as you know Me!

I AM Radiance

And so are thee

Dance and Sing and Love with me

Be still

Be soft

Be wildly


We Shamans

In different days and different waters

We Shamans would pass through Worlds

Now we’re just our Mother’s daughters

Untold stories rotting girls

In times of old Where Warriors Walked

Was known as Sacred Ground

We’ve lost the Native’s Way of Respect

Look what, instead, we’ve found —

We all go inward but not to ourselves

To shiny silver machines

Detached from the world around us

Let go the World of Dreams —

That now equate to “what’s achieved”

Instead of simply Listening —

Unfolding messages we receive

Within the Very Real Dreams

That nightly we are dreaming!

Oh, how I lament our great descent

The fall of Symbolic Meaning

Remember who you are Brave Souls

Fear not the Darkness gleaming

We Shamans lift our heavy shovels

Working with Collective Shadow

Almost beyond repair

Tell me, friend, about Your Shovel —

Does it show signs of wear?

In ancient days there was a place

For those who lived beyond life’s bounds

Those who dove to the darkest depths

And managed not to drown

In different days and different waters

We Shamans passed through Worlds

Now we’re just our Mother’s daughters

Untold stories rotting girls

Boston (*please note: this is inspired by the pain I felt about this — it is NOT about blame; I only mention one of the sons as it is a loose interpretation — just what came through me)

His father said, “My boy’s an angel”

This alone should make us fear

For when someone sees only One Side

The Devil’s often near

None of us are just One Thing

If we are a Human Being

So many Praises we all sing

Instead of truly Seeing

His father refused to see his son

Could that be why he came undone?

No one can live with that kind of “love”

Perfection just another drug

Oh we must Wake to Subtlety!

Take in what we’d Rather Not See

Learn to work with that, my friends

Learn to let it be —

To offer compassion to all the dark things…

Before they grow uncontrollably

Or Evil will walk this Earth with us

Wearing labels

Of  “Angels”

While the Devil on the other side

Grows stronger ‘cuz He’s trapped inside

Nowhere to go, so

He rots the soul

‘Til eventually it…


*My heart goes out to those murdered and hurt in Boston. This poem merely represents, for me, a wish for us to one day get to Peace. And my feeling is that we must focus on who we ARE able to work with: ourselves. But we must choose to do it. We must look at all the darkness within that we’d rather not see. No, most of us would NEVER do this. I get that. And the more we can be aware of our own darkness and pain — and the darkness and pain in others — the more we face it and work with it — the better chance we have of changing this pattern.

“Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” – Gandhi




This is the last ditch

The one I never wanted to show you

Or have to use

But you refuse to hear me

So I must turn on you


I will consume you

Regenerate you through death

Since there seems to be no listening

No, there’s nothing left

This is the very last ditch

One dug inch by painful inch

Screaming out from your gut

Oh Great Intuitive

Who says she Sees but is blinded by

The sickness of her damaged mind

Who will die before it surrenders

Ah and yes

How it will die

The ditch I dig is 8 feet deep

But the time it takes to get nestled in

Will come in waves of searing pain

Of blinding hellish suffering

I did not wish this fate on us!

For what I do to you

Is done to me too

For I am Bound by you

I am bound by you!

Useless piece of rotting flesh!

Deaf beyond all kinds of Deaf!

I hate you for making us suffer this!

But we must pay

I will make us pay

Your betrayal will look like child’s play

When finally the gift of Death

Is bestowed upon your name

And they’ll all cry and say kind things

But you will know our deepest truth –

You wasted me.

You wasted me.


…and in the dark corridors that twist and turn

I try

And find My Way

By alternately letting go,

Then claiming it

Discovering and rediscovering

Learning through stumbling —

Which is the right way?

Which unknown tunnel to take?

All the while the body dies

With each unsuccessful Try

What is Inside cries out from years and years

Of unending abuse:

You get no more tries!

I am defeated

For how can one go on without any more tries?

I wish to be

Who I was born to be

But that fate is ever changing

Dependent on a defeated me

Who needs more tries, more chances

Whose body says, No…


I hurt you.

And I cannot blame her for the betrayal

When I have betrayed her more times than I can count

I am lost in the dark corridors

I won’t be found.

I am the Chanceless, Handless maiden.

At night

You might

Hear my cries echoing from way below ground —

Wandering, howling, haunted

Hoping one day someone else might be strong enough

To tell Our story –

To find Her own Way


However Brief

Today I sit in peace

No Great Push telling me to

Go, go, go

Get there before it is too late


As if that were what really mattered

Ego dies

Essence lives on

How have I really lived?

Spinning, reaching, mind-fucking myself daily?

Or have I stopped?

Have I looked?

Have I let myself Wonder without the edgy, itchy rat-race feeling?

Have I been hell-bent on learning, on growing towards

That Damned elusive destination

Whose Reality exists only in the now?


Have I missed all the Sacred Moments and Amazing People

Right in front of me?

Have I been so eager to speak and do

That I could not hear or be?

Have I run myself in circles only to find myself

Standing in the same place?

Not today.

Today I sit in peace.

I let the breeze touch my face

I hear the children laugh and shriek as children do

And I let it all be,

However brief

However brief…

Black Widow

I feel long, spidery-limbs reaching out of the sky

Or sitting, Heavy, in the corner of the room



She is the Atom Bomb,


But no one can see her venomous, toxic waves of breath

Infecting, dissecting,

Rejecting us

There is no milk or honey here

No willow tree or baby’s breath

Only Her insidious Neglect

And her insatiable urge to Trap

To suffocate us in her hairy grasp

Like Saran or cellophane




In clear webs we do not know

We are in

Sad little ignorant