Excerpt for Chaotic Thoughts by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

Chaotic Thoughts

Writings by Sha’Ra On WindWalker

(in collaboration with Sha'Tara EarthStar)

Copyright (©) 2017 Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing

Published by: Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing

Chilliwack, B.C. Canada

Cover picture by: Belovodchenko Anton

Web Page: http://shutterstock.com/g/belovodchenko

Space Pictures: ESA/Hubble

I hope you enjoy these writings. Feedback is welcome.



Chaotic Thoughts

A Look Into The Past

A Naturist

A New Path

A New World Beckons!

A Place Of Beauty (Revisited)

Ain't Love Grand


Children Of The Wind


A Look Into The Present

Birth Darkness And Rags And Death And Eternity

Boys Will Be Boys

Breath Of Change


Change: A Conversation

Born Killer?

Common Sense

Concerning Earth

Contributing To Society

Conundrums Of Duality

Cosmic Toolbox

The Couch

Creating A New World

Death Insurance

Deeper Experiences


Die From Poison? Hell No!

Don't Think!

Dream Voices

Dying System

Earth Is a Zoo

Extreme Sports

Fair Trade?

Fighting Fire With Fire

Finding Paradise

Free Of Problems


Government For The People

Grandfather’s Dream

Humans Not Of Earth

I Want More

If Only, If Only

Illogical Mind


In Silver Drops

It's Christmas

It's The Apocalypse!




"Know" More Money!

Knowing Life; Doing Life

New Reality

Northern Forest

On The Brink

Orange Peel

Shore Of Mystery

Song Of The Cedars

The Wish

Spirit Wind

Timeless Serenity



War Games

Welcome The Dawn

Why I Support Man's Belief Systems

Winds Of Change

“Ye Are Doomed!”


These books contain a form of free verse poetry, opinions based on observation, and some humour and imagination, engaging the heart as well as the mind. A critical look at many current issues intriguing and plaguing man. Spirituality, interaction with nature and environment, social changes, dwindling resources. Well worn issues now, indeed. But the poetry and other works in these books gives this subject a different perspective. I daresay that here we can find a "higher" vantage point from which to look at ourselves within the cosmos.

Who knows but some of the ideas in the books may get you inspired to do that thing you always wanted to do, even if this comes in a very small way, to make your corner of this world a better place to be in. Who knows but you may realize your little corner is a really nice place to be in after all.

It's all about life, if at times expressing life "outside the box" as the saying goes.

Chaotic Thoughts

Observe thundering waves

crash upon a rocky shore,

Hear the winds howl, tossing foam,

pushing brown sands to frozen waves.

Huddle against a smooth-worn rock

and feel the trembling of the Earth

with your tired, aching body.

Should I end my life now,

you ponder within:

leave this darkened place?

What use am I to this world that does not hear

words I pour from a broken heart?

Should I end my life-long dream

of planting seeds of wisdom

using the written word to touch

hearts open to receive

a million answers to their one question?

Should I give up the struggle now;

quench the fire that burns in my soul?

I look up to see a white gull

skimming the towering waves,

up and down, sailing the currents,

peacefully, gracefully, playfully

as one with the wild winds, unafraid!

Why couldn't I playfully navigate

for another day at least, just one more day

the chaotic madness of man's system

and live to write just one more line?

A Look Into The Past

Cold icy blue eyes staring

from the far side of the bed:

how many times have you told me now

you don't love me -and asked:

"Why don't you just leave?"

I can't answer you...

I don't know if I love you -

did I ever?

But there's the kids: the family,

the loans, the job, the normal,

the expected and unexpected:

a chance to help and serve maybe?

I've held on this long for values

I once believed to be inviolable;

necessary as food on the table...

But when you took in a lover

I suddenly understood:

even a very short life

can contain great cycles of surprise;

incredibly fathomless pain.

I hope you never have to understand

what I'm saying ten years later:

I've travelled so many deserts

crossed so many seas

tasted the fruit of many a lifetime

of an ordinary man: you set me free

to learn about life on other planes

-I thank you, really -

but I've done enough of that

for the four of us to carry on.

A Naturist

Human nakedness

draping a sun-drenched shore:

Ah, the shame, the sin!

Human nudity walking free

on a shore caressed by gentle waves:

Ah, the wonder of it, the stimulation

the thought brings!

A naturist doesn't ponder these thoughts;

life is to be enjoyed, not dissected

not judged right, wrong, or measured

but lived in the wonderful moment

of pure enjoyment: let what comes just come.

A free being learns to cherish

the true beauty of personality, character;

to fully enjoy the companionship in another

while appreciating in openness

the sheer excitement of the human body

unbound from the disease-ridden rags

of passing times.

So, I say,

rejoice! Be not shy, be not ashamed

to express your own passion, your love of life,

your freedom found in simple nudity

among others of like mind.

End the hypocrisy and repression:

join in the great awakening.

A New Path

Beside a crystal stream,

I sit and wonder:

why feel so unsure of self and life

on verge of entering a new path?

A gust of wind, a moving treetop

and in deep blue sky an eagle soars;

it seems we touch in mind -

in whispered thoughts he says -

“Everyone feels unsure, afraid,

thrusting out into the unknown:

try jumping from a nest with wings untried!

Just remember you asked for this path;

that your poetry would soar above the clouds.

New paths, new experiences, new feelings,

strange faces, foreign tongues, unknown lands,

altogether overwhelming sensations:

be sure of this: all who fly stood where you stand!

I, Spirit Eagle, watch over you.

I understand your desire to fly

coupled with the fear to try.

When everything says: “Impossible”

know that the goal is within sight.”

A New World Beckons!

Go, run, barefoot

where there is no path;

do not strangle your feet

with industrially-made shoes

or anchor them in synthetics.

Swim and run nude freely

within nature's sacred realm:

laughingly leave the tattered clothes

which a society’s shame,

imposes on itself!

Like the sorcerer of the sky,

fearlessly lead violent storms

to clean and renew life on earth;

strengthen your faith in life’s lessons;

then simply teach those whose

desire is to learn the trade.

Simple lessons teach appreciation

of life on the organic level;

the goddess energy.

Within her we shall enter

a beautiful new world

prepared by those whose faith

already brought them along

this ancient and renewed path.

A Place Of Beauty (Revisited)

Create an island

where waterfalls of joy,

tumble into blue pools

and call that 'peace;'

where indigo nights

pierced with fiery stars

intensify the velvet beauty

of dark jungle leaves

entwined around a tabernacle:

a snowy mountain top:

call that 'home.'

In the sudden awareness

of deep sleep

creative thoughts flow


Re-create the moment

that passed by unheard;

that was lost yesterday

behind the blare of a commercial.

From your dream,

find focus,

discover passion

and dare create

a new reality:

call that 'tomorrow.'

Ain't Love Grand

Love -

can you feel the feeling it gives?

Wonderful thing, love, isn't it -

so warm, so safe, so comforting...

So... well, loving, isn't it!

What great things people do

in the name of love!

A man marries a woman

in the name of love

and she goes with it

for the same reason:

when she is found beaten to death

this is what he's got to say:

“I loved the bitch so much

I had to kill her -

she threatened to leave me.”

People love their nation

and in the blink of an eye,

they're off to war, bombing, shooting, killing

all in the name of patriot love

(The raping, pillaging and looting -

the fringe benefits of patriot love).

People love their God of Love

and wouldn't you know it?

The only way they can find peace

and express their deepest love for enemies

is by slaughtering their opponents -

even if these love the same God...

What was it they said about love -

“Ain't love grand!”

Ah well, it makes great headlines

(especially if the rich and famous are involved)

It sells wedding dresses, magazines, flowers

and weapons of mass destruction.

(Do you wonder where have all the flowers gone?)

Love, oh Love,

Shall we give you another round of applause?


April's sun arriving,

sparkling brilliance

sudden unleashing

of mountain harshness

in rainbow hues.

Changing of season

from bitter cold

of endless winter

to loving warmth

of sun-filled spring.

Awakener of dreams;

dissipater of mists;

usherer of hope;

renewer of strength,

Bringer of the Dawn:

April's sun arriving.

Children Of The Wind

Wild geese know when to migrate:

they have no boundaries;

call everywhere home.

They fly away in their time,

the meridians are their guides;

their destination assured.

So too must we learn to fly,

innocent as the wild geese,

living life freely

from sea to plains to forests;

soaring effortlessly

on the breath of spirit -

as children of the wind!


Let's all be willing today

to take off our shoes

and walk barefooted

in the morning dew!

Let's learn to enjoy

the tickling of earth's skin

beneath our tired feet

kissing the earth gently,

leaving no permanent mark

from our reverent passing

and new life may spring

even in a human footprint!

Let's even dare to run nude

under undulating branches,

enjoying a morning shower,

laughing with the birds

as leaves gently caress

our tingling skin!

Let's learn to respect

our earth as a lover

and we will always return

from this experience with life,

cleansed, refreshed and wiser!

Let's ask ourselves, today,

why we are so fearful

of enjoying a life

so freely given?

A Look Into The Present

Soft brown eyes smiling tenderly

in early morning shadows;

still grey light diffused softly

through windows opened to the sky

You lie there smiling, warming

your nude form calling to mine:

"'morning" you say sleepily, huskily

your voice overflows with

loving seductive rhythm pulsing

with the beating of my heart

I brush my fingertips gently

over your smooth soft tan-

slowly, slowly drawing helical cicles

around your full breasts:

your nipples respond quickly

to my trembling touch:

I stare a moment then move again

over your stomach, around the navel

down down, all fingers eager now

caressing your thighs: my eyes

eating your body as in a feast:

I kiss your eyebrows, your lips,

your throat, the fluttering skin

below your right breast

never stopping till I reach

the bottom of your feet: I look up

see your thick dark hair coiling

over the soft pillow case:

Beautiful? Desirable? Enchanting?

All... and perhaps a little more.

The hardest part in all of this:

to believe this edenic dream:

my friend, my lover, my reality!

Birth Darkness And Rags

And Death And Eternity

he came into the world

like all do who must come

innocence expecting nothing


and they watched carefully

(the soul makers)

this new thing they’d caused

to see if the program took.

he left the home in his time

to see beyond Main Street

he’d been told in school of course

there was nothing beyond

(he didn’t believe them)

the dark grew in the alleys

of the earth’s slums and favelas

when the lights dimmed

(for him they always did)

and when they went out, grew darker.

he walked on for such was his game

something pulling, something pushing

something crying, something laughing

it was a cat (owl) a woman

in a lighted doorway

an infant cried into its silence

and the woman cried into her loss.

(the owl glided on by-nature’s ghost

snatched the hovering soul

disappeared in the forest forever)

he ran from there.

great waves tossed his spectral frame

black oceans heaving black ships

filled with black men and brown women

(strangers in chains)

chocolate colored children bodies

floated on toothed waves

(feeding bloated sharks)

he came upon a stinking port

anchored in rusty chains to a burning shore

he heard the guns thunder

in the ever night, the always dark

he walked up stony smelly alleys

heard something crying


in a smoky lighted doorway

a child cried soft words muffled

in its mother’s torn blouse

he ran from there

haunted by the gun shot

that laid the man in the mud

the woman’s scream

(he thought he hadn’t heard)

the soldier’s curse

(he wished hadn’t touched him)

the evil eye of the gun’s barrel

in his emaciated face.

(he’d hoped not to see)

I am the innocent

he mumbled and fell

in bloodied battlefield mud.

he died no longer innocent

no longer expecting (nothing)

wise and knowing it does not matter

what you think or what you do.

for the ever night is the arena

and the rider on the black horse

is the fate master.

(eternity is a curse)

he remembers as he runs

followed in the always dark

by steely galloping hooves

(let there not be another)

but he knows, oh how well he knows

there will always be

he knows the nightmare

they call humanity must run its course

on its eternal merry-go-round.

Boys Will Be Boys

Boys will be boys

so the saying goes:

they'll have their fun

their pleasure,

in full measure:

they'll have their games,

proving their manliness;

their balls, bats, stick and clubs,

they'll grunt, moan, swear

at the TV, rolling their bellies,

crushing empty beer cans.

Sometimes I listen to the boys

talking about their games,

bragging of their scores,

expressing dead-end fantasies:

-I would laugh out loud -

at so pathetic

breathless gobs of flesh

but it isn't that funny:

little girls

must put away their dolls,

their make-believe

to learn nature's survival skills

to prepare for their role--

nurturing, life-giving, loving,


plus work, care, responsibility

in the world of boys

while they kill her world

with more violent, destructive

"grown-up" toys.

They play in larger yards

spend more money on thrills

thinking -if they think at all -

such is their due

according to the rules,

No need to ask why

boys never grow up

look around and see

how the system operates,

guaranteeing the boys

their leisure; their pleasure

though the world's gone mad.


Atlas holding up the world

did less than her:

she's still the slave,

(despite the speeches and books)

to cook and clean and mend;

to nurture, love and care,

to support and to give

to suffer, silently hoping

for a little passing praise

instead of endless blame:

"the wife" "the broad" "the bitch"

"she wants more money for the house,

I want to buy Joe's snowmobile,

I need a new set of clubs: you think

she cares? She wants the kids

all dressed up for school

like it was her money!

You stopping for a pint after, Joe?

It's game five tonight!"

The pubs, the clubs,

the games, the courts:

everywhere the boys play;

while the girls, now women,

tend the ancient fires:

first, the boy's business to run,

then the boy's kids to feed,

the home to clean and tidy up,


keeping the bed sheets warm,

his last cheap playground:

"What the hell do you mean,

you're tired?

I know, all is not this bleak,

some women do get to enjoy

their own games too

but remember this, always:

exceptions prove the rule.

Breath Of Change

Clouds of darkness dissipate;

a breath of change;

a breath of new wind, new spirit,

scatters them far and wide

across measureless skies.

These clouds of darkness

have rained fear and hatred

upon this earth far too long.

An era of hope emanates,

frees the yearning for change;

creates a rainbow of bright colours

for all to see and rejoice;

kindness and love may yet set

a timorous walk to bold,

to follow that rainbow's path.

A new world arises from the dawn,

from Spirit's awakening.


Imagine a summer sunrise

dressed in pink cotton

caressing hilltops

and rolling meadows

where buttercups splash

bright yellow smiles--

none of this matches

your impish smile

and carefree stance

when you stand thus

every curve exposed

in a backlit doorway.

Change: A Conversation

Listen, have you heard?

Winds of change are blowing earthward

Really? The weather man did say

the winds would change direction

and bring clouds and rain:

I should have my umbrella ready

and my rubber boots. I wonder if

the tires on my car need...

No! What I mean is that you will be

profoundly moved in spirit.

You may even discover a state of mind

where you can communicate soundlessly

with all living things.

Yeah? That reminds me I've got to

make a stop at the bank machine,

pay some bills and do some shopping

before the storm gets worse.

You don't seem to quite grasp

what I'm trying to say here.

I'm talking about change coming in your life

so you may become spiritually enlightened,

learning to live within love and truth.

Sure, I understand. I've spent a lot of money

on making changes in the past,

wasting a lot of time: All I ended up doing

was a lot of things I don't like,

please, don't talk to me about change:

I've done all I am going to do!

Born Killer?

In a lonely darkened alley,

a killer's obsession is set free

savagely, pointlessly (so it seems)

upon the innocent (the victim).

A suspected felon, hunted, he runs

breathless, out of his mind, out of control,

he runs in fear: so it must be

on a remote, primitive world where God's law

still states: vengeance is mine, and eye for eye

and tooth for tooth, and all shall pay the price!

Many say the killer is deranged, mad

and should be put to death when found.

But I wonder, seeing as they're the same ones

who prepare for war and start them,

who daily starve the weak

and steal from the innocent...

Who can I trust to learn my truth from?

And I wonder, maybe there's a spiritual level

where one still needs to understand,

by actual experience, this urge to destroy life;

whether murderer or General, Banker or Scientist...

I must reason his action,

for my friend provided the sacrifice

while fate let me

experience the horror of the moment.

I need time to meditate,

to consider every facet of the truth,

forcing myself to understand

reasons beyond reason

why certain things transpire.

We all have the ability to murder

but some have moved beyond that level,

though still at times

indulging in acts of violence

toward others.

I hold no anger towards him,

only love and compassion

for I realize his pain at this moment

is much greater than mine could ever be.

Common Sense

God is love, says someone at my door.

God will damn you to hell, says another

who didn't like my politics,

or was it my coffee or the colour of my hair?

God created the world,

God made man in his own image...

God, Supreme Being, Creator of the Universe

(dictionary definition, I'm not that smart!)

God, God, God, God, God...????????

God has a lot of attributes,

most of them are anthropomorphic too

which means 'God' is whatever

anyone wants He or She or It to be...

spell it backwards and you can see for yourself!

I've pretty well given up on God

He's just too many things,

to too many different people

and way too many religions

vying for my trust and money...

He's become meaningless and redundant.

(I know, it's a big word, but then, God is big,

and I'm not saying He needs to go on a diet.)

I think there is a better way to understand

what the word 'God' might possibly mean:

could we not think of 'God' as a concept

and define that as 'common sense'?

After all, love is common sense, is it not?

Yeah, I vote for common sense.

Concerning Earth

(Chronicles of the WindWalkers)

"And they shall be endowed with great intelligence

And turn it ever to evil deeds even to turning light to darkness.

And they shall be given a home but will not understand

And so shall they destroy the gentle fabric of it.

And they shall be clothed and fed but turn on their benefactor

And so shall they tear her apart.

And they shall have children born of Earth matter;

of wind and rain; of earth and fire,

And shall make them children of the damned.

So it was prophesied long ago to the Spirit of Gaia

before she set out to give life

And in tears she wandered in the darkness,

afraid to face the light,

afraid of the life she carried.

Yet it came to pass that she found a place in the sun,

And gave birth in pain and sorrow

To a life that would proliferate wildly,

Turn upon itself and eat itself unto death.

Contributing To Society

The idea persists, folks:

if your chosen field remains

the realm of writer or poet...

you are not contributing,

but taking!

Now here are examples of noble professions:

politician, lawyer, businessman, banker...

and to some lesser extent,

doctor, dentist, engineer, designer;

architect or teacher.

Is it still believed that these people

contribute the most to society?

Well, obviously, that must be true:

income levels say it all!

And so, blue collar workers,

plumbers, bus drivers, technicians,

carpenters, handymen and janitors

to name a few

deserve little but the left-overs...

But woe unto you if you happen to fall

even below the level of the janitor

collecting some form of social assistance:

a handicap pension, unemployment benefits

or perhaps that lowest of all places:

receiving the shameful welfare cheque.

Get a job, bum! Say the sheeple

echoing their government's lies

that the nation is in debt

because of lazy welfare types!

What woeful ignorance

these mindless drones display.

Who are the ones who steal from society?

Look up, not down: look up there

to those ivory towers of power:

there are your thieves, folks,

but they do it in grand style

to the tune of billions of dollars!

Conundrums Of Duality

We speak of darkness and of light,

what do we imply by that?

Seek the light, work in the light;

carry your light in a darkened world

we counsel and encourage each other.

We call darkness evil; light good

and it seems to make much sense,

but does it? Are these judgments

based on incomplete understanding?

Consider the night sky, full of shining stars

consider the day sky, without the stars.

Perhaps it’s time we realized

darkness plays an equal role in creation;

that without darkness, there may be no light?

The night sky is the backdrop for the pearly stars

we love to see; to wish upon; to dream under.

It is not the evil place old beliefs cling desperately to,

for much of man’s creative output

saw the light in the dreams of night.

Why not think of the night sky as a canopy

upon which the light anchors itself?

Perhaps then we would find it easier

to understand, to accept

the darkness in ourselves and in others.

Cosmic Toolbox

The old tools we have been using

these thousands of years

are out of date: there surely must be

new ones to find, to put to use!

God: father, mother, creator, lover,

provided man with a universal toolbox

full of practical, wonderful tools

with which to create and evolve;

to build a universe of wonders and delights

for God and friends to contemplate and enjoy.

Sadly, man saw only the top layer:

a few religious books, a scattering of 'isms',

a few incomplete philosophies,

grabbed at by power-hungry fools

declaring themselves god-chosen rulers.

From these they interpreted a god of war

of greed and blood, of petty thoughts

a god, in short, so afraid of man

he willfully plunged an entire world

under a watery flood, knowing full well

man's woes would but continue and grow

regardless of punishment meted out!

Ah, what are these wonderful things

man failed to find in the toolbox?

They’re called love, joy, peace, patience,

kindness, goodness, faithfulness and yes,

even gentleness and tenderness... towards all things.

All things, we now should understand,

are native of the spirit called God:

rock, salamander, tree or man, we all are one!

The Couch

Someone got lonely,

always sitting alone,

so He or She invented the couch;

to provide Her and Him with

a more comfortable place

to spent an intimate moment

but they got bored doing that

and invented the boob tube:

complete with bombarding ads

filled with endless lies,

so the next step was inevitable:

the remote control,

and that, as all can see

provided irrefutable proof

for the theory of evolution--

(or de-volution)

for late twentieth century

saw the birth of a new species:

the utterly useless,

the sexless,

the mindless,

the...Couch Potato!

Creating A New World

I see her

as I am walking

an alpine meadow:

the wind moves gently,

the warmth of Summer

lingers everywhere;

the flowers filling the air

with fragrances;

as we move closer,

my heart starts pounding

my passion throbbing;

and as we touch,

our passion, the love we share,

creates a new world,

with no boundaries

a world we can return to

again and again

when the stress of Earth

brings us down.

Death Insurance

Life comes with no guarantee,

of that we are certain.

Yet try they will, try they must

to sell me life insurance.

How do they do it?

flavor it with just the right amount of fear,

with a pinch of shame, a side dish of sadness.

Why not call a spade a spade?

No one can insure life – it's death insurance!

'cause we are as sure of death,

as we are sure of taxes – so they say.

I remind death insurance salesmen

the point of life is to be into life,

not paying into death with debt.

Isn't it true if we but remembered

that death walks beside us

step for step every day of our life

we would not seek 'life insurance'

to try to beat the great illusionist?

We would live life as a spendthrift

in joyful caring, arms openly loving!

Deeper Experiences

In our search for deeper experiences,

we were no longer satisfied to just be;

we took the animals acceptance of life,

splintered it;

what did we end up with?

A overflow of new mind things;

we call imperfections and perfections:

when an animal stands still for hours,

in wait for prey,

it is not being patient,

it is acting according to programming:

not so the human.

A human calls his act


the opposite then becomes active

in the human also: impatience!

All our perfections

have their counterpart in imperfections!

We took duality many steps deeper:

why did we do this,

when it causes us so much confusion, pain?

because our primary search or quest

is for experiences,

which broaden our minds,

enrich our lives.


As I was sitting on a beach

surveying the tossing grey sea

I pondered the saying:

"It's not the destination that matters,

it's the journey."

A young woman walked past

and said with an enigmatic smile:

"Which is most important:

the journey or the destination?"

I replied: they say it's the journey,

not the destination.

"Think about that," she said in a soft voice,

"can you have a journey

if you have no destination?

Is it not the destination

that calls for the journey?"

I watched her as she went on,

looking neither to the left nor right

until I lost sight of her behind a dune.

From that moment, I thought differently

about my life and my goals, and I ask,

what's the point of moving on

if I have nowhere to go to?

Die From Poison? Hell No!

Should I eat that can of stew

filled to the rim

with deadly preservatives?

Hell no: I’ll starve first!

I won’t let those preservatives

twist my gut in knots!

Should I drink that tap water

laced with hazardous wastes

leached casually from the city dump?

Should I ingest that chlorine

intended for the swimming pool?

Hell no: I’m not drinking the water.

Should I breathe in that smog?

Those diesel fumes? The sewer wisp?

My neighbour’s Presto log smoke

Or that deadly, unseen C-Monoxide?

Hell no, that way I won’t go!

And here’s the recipe for extended health,

strong teeth, good lungs, healthy bones:

Eat no food;

Drink no water;

Breathe no air:

You’ll die quickly,



sensibly virginal - no longer incensed.

Don't Think!

They say humans

only use ten percent of their brains...

Well that’s too much already!

Too painful, too confusing!

Don't wear out that wonderful blob

thinking up thoughts about the world

and the mess it’s in:

just tune in a political speech

the latest news, the final score:

amuse yourself in mindless chatter,

but whatever you do,

protect your blob from accidental wear!

Do not try to reason

the why’s and wherefore’s

of the system’s nefarious ways:

someone else is bound to do it for you,

so why create more headache

with the unused portion of your anatomy?

The mess we’re in is inevitable:

that’s why you vote, isn’t it?

To continue the mindless game,

and re-create the problems

we so enjoy not solving!

It’s time to sit upon the couch again

and stare at the flickering tube:

Television, the great mind-saver,

babysitter from two to ninety-two

keeping the brain embalmed day after day,

night after night, saving an entire species

from wearing out its brains!

Dream Voices

Soft voices of spring riding a mountain breeze

whisper among tree tops, sweep

across green meadows asleep under the sun.

They awaken dreams that speak of life

upon vistas of achromatic beaches

and translucent turquoise waves so far away.

Like a child chasing a fluttering butterfly,

I chase these golden dreams across my mind.

Dreams flowing like rivers find their way to the sea,

and the sea holds her island paradise in readiness

for the daring or weary sailor.

Here, the sun's warmth never fails even under the moon;

Here, waves of joy softly mould

a white shore in harmony to the wind,

that mad lover who caresses my eager skin.

Yet the land and the mountains are my home,

my life circumscribed within borders --

so says my mind as I, somnolent

awaken from my summer dreams.

But from those dreams I come to realize

Earth can be an understanding friend,

there with a nudge, a playful toss

when loneliness invades my thoughts

like moon shadows on a cloudy night.

Dying System

People struggling to survive

on the fringes of a cold, dying system;

hiding from the tycoons

and their henchmen called governments -

trying desperately to find a place

in the global slave market

(euphemistically called employment)

where the chain is not too heavy

and the price less than the wage

with something left over

to feed the children in the cold.

The planet's life-giving mantle

cracks, dries, freezes

and oozes of poisonous fumes.

The system has run its course

but who is aware of this fact?

Not those who still chase the elusive dollar,

- the rich buying a corporation -

- the poor, a lottery ticket -

nor those who strive to keep

the best place at the trough.

And as the trough deepens or shortens

fewer and fewer snouts fit into the opening.

Ignorant government lackeys,

with indecent laws and crippling taxes

lick up the fat of whatever remains

after bankers and CEO's take the cream.

Miserly rich rail against starving poor,

these left with but one option:

to die for the god of free enterprise.

Will this madness not end?

An academic question already answered:

Not if but when.

Earth Is a Zoo

It's been said:

Earth is a zoo.


and the intelligent life forms

(humans that is)

who inhabit it;

who creep and crawl over it;

who "own" it;

and are destroying it

are themselves

but wild animals

caged by belief systems

that never work.

Hating each other;

eating each other;

destroying each other;

and all the while

praying to the

Great Keeper

up in the sky,

safe in his heaven

silent as the grave...

until his pets

unleash the great worship:

a crusade;

an inquisition;

a war

against the Keeper's "enemies."

Then He speaks

with guns,

with spectacles of bloodshed

accompanied by marches;

justified by great speeches

from his mouthpieces -

Preachers, Priests, Popes

and whomever else

benefits from His

special attention.

That's right:

Earth is a zoo.

Extreme Sports


the possibility of death

at maximum pleasure –

extreme your sport:

engage the danger.

Climb a sheer rock wall;

race a hot rod;

kayak thundering rapids;

sky dive!

Feel the rush

being in the moment:

on that edge

between worlds.

See the past fade helpless;

the future scream away

and the daily grind

drop from the confines

of a refreshed mind.


the intensity of a life

borrowed for the now --


the stress of life endured

moulded to a clock.

Life is sacred – isn’t it?

Fair Trade?

I dream:

I’m walking down a darkened street

when an angry one confronts me with a gun:

Give me your money and your watch!

But my mind’s not on his words,

nor responding to the threat –

I think, what if I let him kill me

without fear or threat of retaliation?

I feel the bullet rip through my flesh.

I dream:

My body lies on the pavement

a subject of much scrutiny and concern

by various members of the legal fraternity

(I never raised that much interest

in all my living days!)

The gunman is arrested and taken away.

I dream:

As he sleeps in his cell awaiting trial

the gunman dreams his own dream

and thinks beyond base survival instincts

to love, and what would that be like!

He is touched by the sacredness of life

and awakens from his life-long sleepwalk.

I conclude:

A passing that brings such a gift

is not a death but a celebration.

For he is now free to walk a new path:

fear no longer rules his thoughts;

the urge to kill no longer haunting

the shadowy corners of his life.

Was it a fair trade?

Fighting Fire With Fire

How long must we believe

that justice can really be served

by striking back, fist for fist...?

Do we really need to defend ourselves

against anything at all?

Isn't there a universal law that says:

he who inflicts pain on the innocent

must receive the same in return?

So what then should we do

when faced with uncontrolled anger,

with irrational hatred

that threatens our very life?

Fighting fire with fire

only causes anger and hate

to mould the world as its always been...

Isn't it time we began to change,

to return love for hate

compassion for anger

turning violence into gentleness

hostility into friendship,

filling all relationships with love

so all may see others as friends?

Finding Paradise

There is a place in every city

where one can get away

from the clutter, the madness;

a place where the air

smells cleaner somehow;

where birds sing songs of joy;

squirrels chatter; coyotes roam

and the sun shines

through sparkling dew-covered webs;

or stained-glass windows;

where one hears whispers

of the breeze through leaves;

or chants of monks or voices of angels;

where one finds peace, tranquillity,

and forgets the world's problems

if only for a few moments.

Each city hides such a mystery:

I know this; I have found one where I live;

a place to get away

when the system's stranglehold

would choke my life;

a place where I touch earth or heaven

and from whence, renewed

I can face the city's painful cries

without losing my spirit.

To some, it is called a park,

and to some, it's sitting on the dock

and to some, it's a candle-lit vault

in an incense filled ancient church

but it is always the same place...

Free Of Problems

Can we ever reach a point

where unexpected vicissitudes

no longer hound our days?

The ominous storm is brewing closer

and I stand alone

at the edge of time, or so it seems:

but is there salvation in time alone?

Can we ever be free in hope

of something sweet in the future?

Can I escape the rain

by wishing it away for another day?

Dark clouds erase an azure sky;

gale winds bow reeds and whip tree tops;

pounding rains ride upon the winds;

heavy showers pelt the ground:

there is no cover here for my body.

Cold and wet I come to realize

this is the truth of now:

whether the sun shone an hour ago,

whether it will shine an hour from now,

this moment is all I have:

like it or not

this 'present' is the key to life's door.


I speak now of freedom;

the 'freedom' to be with whomever you choose,

to some is sacrilegious;

they claim that THEY are better than that,

and show their signed piece of paper, politicians

proudly shove their partner of the moment forward,

express the expected platitudes

about "the wonderful little woman

without whom I wouldn't be here"

and "Oh, I'm so proud of him!"

thus stating that because

they are living in social approval,

all's well with the world and someday, hopefully,

a government with some guts

will round up all those non-conforming

perverts and kill them, they say

so their children can grow up

without having to look upon that horror...

Of course, they don't let their children

look under their mattresses at the "Playboys,"

and they try not to talk too much of past

failed marriages...

and people casually picked up

in the hotel bar when at those conventions,

are never mentioned,

because they see themselves

as the ones that do no wrong.

Government For The People


do expensive guesswork

based solely


vague assumptions


unreliable data

of dubious accuracy

provided by

persons of questionable

intellectual capacity

called appropriately




the people

accustomed as we are

to doing everything

with so little

for so long

are now expected

to do the impossible

with nothing:


pay off a national debt

we neither contracted for


received anything from:

baah! baah!


the sheep

Grandfather’s Dream

I feel Grandfather’s spirit

in the wind that moves the branches,

that flutters leaves of broad-leaved maple.

I watch the sun rise over barren land,

that was Grandfather’s farm,

a farm he struggled to keep;

by taking a job up north,

by surviving with so little, for so long.

Heavy equipment carve up the earth,

fill the tranquil air with industrial noise,

uproot the trees I once played in,

destroy precious streams I once waded

and washed my hands in.

They build a “gated community”;

a prison for the wealthy:

was this what Grandfather envisioned

when he bought this land long ago?

Ruthless developers connive

to leave the remaining family

with empty pockets and broken hearts:

was this the work of the universe

unfolding as it should?

I will remember the years

I was connected with the life

that was this sacred place.

I will remember the simple things

that awakened me to greater knowing.

I’ll drift away from here

to dream a better, greater dream.

Humans Not Of Earth

Drillers of liquid black gold,

miners of shiny diamonds or black coal;

builders of glass penthouses above the clouds,

collectors of crucified butterflies:

Who are you who cannot feel?

You pollute your water and your air;

blow up big holes in the gentle soil;

you kill this and that at will

with a legal permit for show and tell:

who are you whose touch is death?

You destroy a living world

as if you had a home to return to,

not plundered; not abused, not diseased

somewhere in the vast universe.

Who are you to be so smug?

When this Earth lies in rack and ruin;

when you lie gasping for air and water;

will your alien parents sweep down

in shiny mother ships to rescue you?

Who are you to be so blind?

Aliens on this planet is who you are;

children of pirates, thieves and murderers:

you have not changed; you have not learned -

this world no longer abides your presence:

Pray the ships are not long coming!

And pray your ancient worlds

were not destroyed by others just like you

when they passed by...

I Want More

Why do we want a job?

Or need a job?

What is the motivation in the quest;

in staying with this labour?

Some would say "lucky"of the one

who finds and holds a job

that gives both enjoyment and satisfaction;

when positive energy flows out of the effort;

when it seems society even benefits

from such work.

And luckier, indeed, if it pays well...

But if success becomes the driving force;

when the work pays greater dividends

and possessions, prestige, power

accumulate as a result,

how quickly the motivation changes

from one of "I would give more"

to one of "I want more!"

In our society, 'tis not the labour

that's counted as valuable

but the amount of money it returns:

for success is counted in money earned,

not in satisfaction received,

much less in gratification given.

Forgotten are the lessons of the past:

that one's honor is tied directly

to one's willingness to serve.

If Only, If Only

If we could

see the sun shining

beyond the pettiness of our "happy" days.

If we could

feel the tranquillity

of a mountain day in Fall.

If we could

sense the cleansing

of a passing storm in Winter.

If we could

experience peace

near a blue-green mountain lake,

would we not come to realize

the presence of nature

always within us

despite the raucous claims

of our man-made traps?

If we could

abandon our fears, our doubts,

our reliance on

anthropomorphic "gods"

wrapped in assorted false laws.

If we could

cast off as outworn clothing

our human pride and inhibitions,

would we not then

allow the winds of change

to bring back to our children

the hope of a gentle future

where the simplest pleasure

becomes the ultimate experience?

Illogical Mind

The logical mind

seeks to be considered

the one and only provider

of human identity:

but is this not a misconception?

For a complete human

is body, mind and spirit

(some would argue this:

fine– I can’t offer proof

except for one point –

can a mind “love”?

With apologies to Mr. Spock,

meditation, contemplation, prayer,

(a waste of time

from logic's point of view)

allows the stressed and tired mind

to gently and quietly recall

images of the spirit's journeys

into the dream time;

to unravel the history of one’s life;

to bring forth understanding;

to mould and shape the thoughts

that become what one is.

For we are not known only

for our attributes and abilities –

we are mostly known

for our daily choices.


twisted from birth

the leg drags

painfully along

the climbing street

cold steel

pierces my heart

tears fill my eyes

--love is not blind--

In Silver Drops

In silver drops

falls the Autumn rain

pattering delicately happy

on slowly swaying branches

and faintly rustling leaves...


in the peaceful verdant prairie

a mighty weeping willow tree

sways and rocks silently

at the warming touch

of a gentle breeze

In silver drops

falls the Autumn rain

each tiny ephemeral diamond

hangs daintily from leaf and bud

each tiny evanescent crystal globe

reflects the million smiling faces

in velvety grayness of drooping skies

and silky greenness of a resting land

Attracted by the mild and misty hush

a slender naiad leaves her river home

glides to a topmost branch and sits

contentedly combing her gossamer hair

singing a song of love softly

as the Autumn rain falls

in silver drops.

It's Christmas

It's Christmas(hype! hype! hype!)

time to express our need

to show off expensive love

by spending all that money

January will starkly remind us

we didn't have!

Seasonal love is gauged

by countless material things

made in break-down Taiwan

and Cheap China

contributing to disappointment

and landfill clog:

can't even recycle

Christmas love.

I have come to understand

I don't need Christmas

to say I care,

for all of time is at my command

to do random acts of kindness;

to give love and thoughtfulness

to souls in need of direction,

of spiritual awakening,

of gentle comforting.

Greater than any store-bought gift

is this unselfish giving of love

from the depth of a human heart

which has no need of Christmas

wrapped in gaudy commercials

disguising cheap, short-lived thrills.

It's The Apocalypse!

The old gods are frantic

control slipping

out of anaemic hands:

The State is in a state;

the Church is in the lurch...

And the banks are caving in:

It's the Apocalypse!

Yes: Revelation.

It is being revealed

that the old has passed away

the new has come, like it or not.

Is this not inevitable?

Since the one constant of the Universe,

so I'm told, is change:

isn't it time this piece of Universal energy

experiences meaningful change?

Freedom: we've been crying it

for millennia:

It's being handed to us

ready to serve:

do we really want it,

or do we want to play at war

for one more round?


We perceive and we judge:

Seems it’s our nature to do so.

calling that either “right” or “wrong”

but seldom do we stop to reason

what we base our judgment on.

How do we know what’s right?

How do we know what’s wrong?

Among other things, feelings?

But what are feelings?

That which causes us to feel— true—

but do we live our life

based on how we feel?

Isn’t that what some once called


Could that be the main reason

behind our many social problems?

Feelings are never “wrong” in themselves,

they are but another of our natural senses,

or perhaps an extension of our senses,

but surely we are more than senses!

Perhaps our world is in the mess it’s in

because we’ve refused to grow up;

refused to get beyond our feelings

and develop a new “sense”— empathy!

If we developed our ability to feel

all that another is feeling —

if “you” became a necessary part of “me”

then likely I’d move from judgment

(of you)

into friendship:

certainly, and at the very least

I’d be motivated to seek “the way”

that makes it better for you...

and consequently, for me.


There's a lot of talk about karma

floating around the loose caboose world

of much noowagey con mind games

and I'm not exactly jumping on the band wagon

with those who insist they're here

to payback or to be paid back...

Karma implies that in a past life

or in an array of past lives

I've done terrible things to all kinds of people,

or they did terrible things to me

and of course all this terrible stuff

has to be balanced eventually.

Am I poor? Sickly? Oppressed? Underpaid?

Am I lacking in intelligence? Or opportunity?

Am I rolling in dough, surrounded by starving crowds?

Blame it all on karma, or thank your karma:

You're living in payback time.

There's a clear legal problem

with such a simplistic view of life:

If I commit a crime on this world, in this life,

usually I get my day in court;

at least, I know what I am in prison for.

But what about that karma thing?

If I did something to someone 10,000 years ago,

shouldn't I have some certain way to know

it really was me who did it, and not some slime

who passed himself as me to escape punishment?

I'll put it this way: The universe (some call it God)

certainly seems to maintain a point of balance in energy:

'For every action there is an immediate and opposite reaction'

Aha! says I! That's not at all like karma, is it!

If the opposite is immediate,

I must conclude there's no such thing as 'karma' -

No sudden windfall; no terrible punishment

waiting for me, life after life

until I become aware of the so-called law of karma:

you know the karma that

ran over your dogma?


I may not prevail

in every struggle,

but I hold this truth

firmly within my heart

that a battle lost

should not be discounted

as waste.

Whether I win or lose

is not the point of this game:

there are valuable lessons

taught in defeat.

How so? you may well ask.

Well, humility is one seed

that sprouts well

in the soil of defeat.

If heaven had a door,

you'd find that humility

is a key

that would fit quite well

within its golden lock:

there are other keys, of course.

I'll leave that to you

to figure out...

"Know" More Money!

Money's declining in value,

soon may not even exist;

financial institutions are definitely

on their way to the grave--

(I salute them: a well-deserved rest!)

bank robbers will taste unemployment,

with or without a union card,

and so their counterparts,

break-in artists and CEO's,

who sell their ill-gotten wares

for pieces of coloured pulp.

Politicians will be struck dumb:

unfunded lies seldom gain

the status of truth...

Just imagine:

old ladies once again safe

to walk down lonely sidewalks;

clean running transportation

when profit in oil and gas

vanishes in the last whiff of smog;

green grass and window panes

reflecting a pristine sun;

national debts cancelled,

gone by the sweep of a magic wand;

trees standing tall in the wind

spared from the printing press

as media deception fades out;

abandoned financial towers:

pent-housing for the poor,

rent free, guilt free, fear free.

Imagine a world without money:

why should it frighten?

Knowing Life; Doing Life

Think of all the instructions

we get through life:

how to do this or that,

how to think, what to think

when to think... and when not.

But what constitutes

what we call “life”?

Simply put: it's all a matter

of careful observation:

what works, what doesn't -

it's all there,

in the collective experience.

All that's necessary is to tap

into this great pool of knowledge.

Well, no, not quite:

there's a trick we must learn

that goes with knowledge:

it's this “doing life thing.”

“Practice what you preach,”

“walk your talk;”

“don't tell me, show me,”

sounds great: how is it done?

So what's the conclusion?

Life is knowing what to do,

and doing what is known.

Pretty simple:

why can't we seem to get it?

New Reality

Must we leave

this "reality"

we have called home

until now?

Must we chase

new experiences

upon new worlds

far out in space,

hoping they'll be

bursting with life,

in pristine conditions?

Should we hope someday

to walk unsullied wilderness,

without borders,

without boundaries,

no longer chained to the grind,

no slaves of death?


would it be simpler

to change the way we perceive

our daily 'reality?

To superimpose

our hopes and dreams

on the facade

of a strip mall?

Northern Forest

The first cry of the bald eagle

echoes across silent lakes

still locked in Winter's ice

as it circles endless space

high above a living canvas.

Winter's icy grip weakens

as the northern forest awakens:

delicate flowers bloom timidly,

shivering in the cool breezes.

Their splashes of sudden colour

livens up the forest floor.

Spring's greenery emerges,

softening bleak open spaces:

leaves and fresh grasses spring to life

becoming forage for deer and elk.

Spring's sun brightens a pastel sky,

warming meadows and rolling hills,

melting away the last hidden snow

to the happy songs of robins

bathing in moss-lined pools.

On The Brink

The world we know was always able

to sustain nature's simple needs,

but not designed to fully explain

the life journey of the human soul:

now a new force has been unleashed

suddenly, relentlessly moving man

forward to the new dawn

beyond the edge of time.

Many are those who fearfully resist

this unexpected change;

who will fall to certain death

never having walked upon,

perhaps never even having glimpsed,

that ghostly distant shore

hidden beyond the misty veil.

Awakened with a rush of life

by the light of a new morning,

they see the edge of a canyon,

a chasm too wide to cross:

afraid to jump into the unknown

they huddle fearfully

on the brink looking down at death.

How I long to tell them not to fear,

to leap! to jump! across this canyon

however deep or wide it may appear

for things are not what they seem

in these times of changing thoughts;

that the life energy will carry them

across the fading greying mists

to a mountain leading above the clouds,

to a paradise I've seen and touched.

Orange Peel

Like a moldy orange peel,

our earth is cloaked

in a dying system

based on repression.

She waits patiently

for people to awaken

or some space alien,

or god to return

and gently peel away

the old skin, uncovering

her new identity.

Shore Of Mystery

Your wraithlike dance

on the ocean's stormy shore;

your graceful steps along the surf;

your long hair blowing in the wind;

your swaying body

shrouded in time's mystery;

reveal the coming, the strength,

the growing passion of my love.

The ocean's ageless song

uncovers love's desire

as dwarfed by restless waves

I watch your image dimmed

by the mist in my eyes.

Song Of The Cedars

Above a quiet mountain lake

deep in the Summer of my visions,

I saw a man dive off a cliff,

to the blue waters far below,

yet before he hit the waters,

I saw him turn into a majestic eagle,

and as he spread his wings

transform himself into a Goddess

of golden hue...

I watched as she floated to the sand,

and stretched her arms to the sun:

Then I recognized her

as her hair came tumbling

and she danced along the shore.

singing her song from the clouds:

It was Tara,

calling to me again!

and I went to her

soaring upon the mountain breeze,

bringing her the song of the cedars;

and there within her gold,

on white sands, under blue skies

shimmering in the Summer's heat

the Goddess and I

touched heaven.

The Wish

Were I to be granted one wish --

no quid pro quo, no restrictions, no limits --

infinite possibilities turned to reality,

what would I wish for?

Better to begin the quest with:

"What would I choose not to wish for?"

for how else would I know to make the right choice?

(and so it began.)

Immortality --

To live forever, forever the same

amid the changing seasons and currents of evolution;

helpless in the passage of time --

The curse and ultimate madness of the gods.

Omnipresence --

To be aware of all things without confusion

sitting at the centre of the All Thing

but what would I be doing there? Nothing --

Just another all-seeing voyeur in boredom.

Omniscient --

the All-knowing walking through the All Time

no secrets, no surprises, no mistakes even;

all knowledge mine, all hints of possibilities: certainties --

Nothing ever new under any sun.

I've thought this through carefully --

yes, since I was a Child I've considered this Place

knowing one day I'd arrive here.

Crawling, walking, running, now flying,

I've come, ready or not, to the Portal of Decision --

The Sphinx is about to ask His Question and

I can have my wish now --

no one will gainsay my choice.

What do I wish for?

Hear this well, you who now have a share in life;

who see death as a reprieve, or as an end;

who would rely on hope and on faith

to see you through these darkening days:

This is what I wish for: to be.

Forever free, forever unbound, forever moving --

and being moved to the shedding of salty human tears

in joy and in sorrow, both of equal value --

accepting when the old tent tears, its contents lost,

scattered over shifting sands in the desert's night wind;

buried by drifting snows in the grey light of the blizzard;

falling to unplumbed depths

through the waves of a stormy sea --

accepting of any new reality sprung

without warning or possibility of preparedness.

I wish for life

to find me where I last fell

to push me up and ever on.

Spirit Wind

It was you who showed me

how to achieve dreams

that seemed beyond my reach;

how you offered me the warmth of your friendship,

the shelter of your love.

Though winter's blues have returned,

I still think back to those passionate times

running free and nude in the warm rains of spring,

and the hot summer sun.

How foolishly I thought I could own you,

could lock your precious love in a treasure chest,

to be buried deep in the sand,

where only I could find it!

I know now that is why you left;

as I walk this shore in emptiness of heart,

wondering if you will ever return,

or find this letter of self-pity I'm sending out to sea

in that wine bottle

we emptied that last night under the stars.

Then Spirit Wind spoke:

“Leave the past to its memories.

The one you lost is gone: she will not return again.

Face the sunrise: sketch an image of a ship

from new dreams and visions blossoming.

Build this ship from tall trees

symbolizing the love you hold

within your heart.

Once you manifest this highest dream,

grab the helm with courage:

I, Spirit Wind,

will certainly fill your sails.

They shall billow out proudly,

setting you free to experience

a new voyage of hope

and the music in the rigging

will be your new song of love.”.

Timeless Serenity

Mountains rise high into the sky

above sunlight filtered mistily

through outspread evergreens.

Birds perched on swaying branches

sing nature's song of renewal

for all things preciously nurtured

within an eternal womb.

Streams fed by rains and melting snows

cascade merrily upon sheer rock walls,

winding through soft green meadows;

creating crystal pools where life exalts

the beauty of the All in creation:

O! Be refreshed, my soul

within this timeless serenity!


Full with promise

the mountain breeze awakens

the sounds of nature rejoicing

in the birth of a new day!

There is a tranquility here

that lifts the body to great joy;

to pleasing sensations,

and pearls of restful thoughts.

There are visions of peace

while walking softly

through mosses and bracken

under giant trees.

Thus I experience life's bounty

as beauty shed without measure

letting it move my heart

from innocence to understanding.

Thus I experience life's wonder

as wisdom shed without measure,

bringing awareness to innocence,

gently uncovering my sheltered life.


A deadly assault rifle opens up

on innocent kindergarten children;

another upon young women in a school;

bombs are dropped upon a town.

How can anyone make sense

of apparently mindless slaughter?

Why, why, why?

The question is endlessly asked

and no one wants to hear the answer,

of course - it's so inconvenient.

Man has no understanding: fact;

cannot feel the sacred in life: fact.

But is there more here than meets the eye?

Do we dare give the devil his due?

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