Excerpt for Man's World by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

Title Page

Writings by Sha’Ra On WindWalker

(in collaboration with Sha'Tara EarthStar)

Copyright (©) 2019 Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing

Published by: Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing

Chilliwack, B.C. Canada

Cover pictures by:

All pictures found on

Space Picture: ESA/Hubble

I hope you enjoy these writings. Feedback is welcome.


Title Page


A Trinity Of Evil

Getting A Job

Good Advice?

The Homeless

Is There A Cure For Cancer



Life Is A Game

Life Support System

Man's World

Marriage And Friendship

O, Bless Me, Universe!

Overweight And Hungry

Peace Or Harmony?

Poetry Mechanics


The Fools Tax

The Poet

Word Mechanics

Would They Be Happy

You Took My Money, Where's My Cure, Doc?


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.

A Trinity Of Evil

Seems to me Earth society is ruled by “Powers” -

not the usual plethora of “forces”

operated by human beings -

something deeply nefarious, evil to the core;

something that sucks the marrow of life from individuals

thus keeping itself alive to wreak more havoc.

What are these “Powers” then?

Not Unknowns but quite familiar:

Let’s take the very First to show up in history:

Creators or life-givers: “God”. “Goddess.”

Deity or deities; spirit beings, hence, organized religion.

Ritualistic performance of meaninglessness

leading to social paranoia and collective madness.

The Second to appear, (consequence of the first)

is the Law Maker; the Ruler; the Despot:

Government and its bureaucratic assemblage.

As with the First, this one also claims

absolute right to life and death over others.

It demands huge sacrifices for itself

which it calls “taxes” and which no one

(but its favourites - the rich) may refuse.

It also determines the time, place and nature of wars.

The Third obviously is Mammon. Money. Filthy Lucre.

Credit would be His Most Venerable Name today.

He’s Everybody’s Friend and in His name

do people desecrate their planet of living things.

In His name do people become mindless consumers

in vain attempts to sate Him by sating themselves.

This is the Evil Trinity that rules Earth;

that controls the collective mind

through the imposition of belief systems

based on paranoia, fear and no substance.

Don’t believe it: look around.

Getting A Job

The Government says;

‘the people we serve are a resource’

I guess this means,

we are like stocks and bonds:

when we no longer bring in money,

we are cashed-in

to die in some darkened alley.

The Government says,

getting a job is good;

leads to a sense of accomplishment,

provides economic security,

in a fulfilling and independent life:

Yeah, but isn’t it more this way:

that fat-cat Politicians need taxpayers,

to keep up appearances

and pay back political promises?

The more money a government rakes in,

the fatter the individual “elected official”

can legally get.

Who ever heard of a government

going on a tax diet?

Good Advice?

Anger and frustration mount

when nothing seems to go right;

hours and hours spent on a problem

without reaching a solution;

stress adds itself to more stress

when too much month remains

at the end of the money:

is there no way out of this mad maze?


On a particularly angry day

an old friend said to me:

“When a problem arises

it's best to find some way

to give the mind much needed rest

and think about something else.

Often problems resolve themselves

if you “sleep on them”.

Good advice, But with a few exceptions

such as one's house in flames,

or a heart attack.

The problem is not in the problems

but in our expectations

that something ought to be a certain way.

If it isn't, then it's a problem.

I find that our “problems” are just a part of life-

a broken fan belt is no different

than an ice cream cone at the mall,

just a matter of perception;

an adjustment of reality, detachment

and dropping of expectations -

from whomever, whatever, wherever.

Problems? What problems?

The Homeless

The "homeless" - who are they?

Are they those who "fall through the cracks"

of a System gone awry?

Victims of those in power

who deny them access to the welfare net?

Are they the proverbial "too-lazy's"

who won't look for a job or work for pay?

These are stock assumptions: I don't buy 'em.

These individuals are not as "homeless"

as they appear to be outwardly.

They have a very real, necessary purpose

especially in the richest nation of the world.

Though they may be blissfully unaware

of the status I'm about to confer upon them,

this is who they are:

The Survivors.

Yes, they are the ones who will survive,

pass into the shadows for a time,

refined by the fire that will rage over this world

and emerge from the ashes as they mostly do

each and every day in the city.

When the nation and her systems collapse,

It won't be those safely installed

in their underground bunkers and caves

who will rise to plunder another day -

for these will go stark raving mad,

deranged in their darkened thoughts

tread-milling their darkest moments

in their darkened pits below the earth.

After the end,

In the beginning

it will be the homeless

who will inherit the earth.

To each according to his need

from each according to his ability.

Is There A Cure For Cancer

While hiking in the high mountains

I got to wonder if there really can be

a cure for cancer?

A magic formula, a wonder drug

out there somewhere hiding

in some dark corner of the world?

An eagle is circling high in the sky

below a bank of fluffy white clouds,

and it seems to speak to me:

“cure for cancer you ask?

May I suggest a starting point:

Know that evil begins with judgment.

Remove all forms of judgment

from your thinking process

and watch what happens

to your understanding about healing

not only of cancer,

but all that hounds you, all that kills you.”

Shaken by the power of this vision

I vowed to put those words to the test

and once I got back to the city,

to tell as many people as I could

about this new-found wisdom.

But is it “new found” wisdom?

Have we not known this all along

but from fear and laziness, come to expect

that professionals knew better;

were better equipped to deal with our problems

and chose to trust in them, submitting to their power

letting our minds and intuition atrophy.

But where has this got us today?

Are we nearer to a cure - for any disease?

Is it not quite the opposite?


I'm told there's an island in the mists

off the shores of a cruel civilisation,

untouched, virginal, pristine;

where eagles soar 'neath billowing clouds

bursting with gentle rain, watering lush meadows;

where black wolves ramble rugged terrain,

and black-tailed deer, ears perked,

foraging in dampened grasses sense

the predator lurking among giant trees;

where white and black bears

wait patiently by the edge of a stream,

claws grasping for a tired fish returning

from travelling the oceans of the world

to find its ageless spawning ground.

Sadly, I'm told this virgin paradise

has now been found by man: its bounty

now up for grabs on Wall Street.

Will greedy minds and greedy eyes

soon be followed by

greedy hearts and greedy hands?

Will these not bring the savage gun and ruthless saw;

the back-hoe, the concrete,

the chain-link fence topped with barb wire --

Man's version of paradise?

Of the threads that wove this delicate fabric,

what shall remain?


A law for this, a law against that:

is there anything that isn't wrapped up in some law?

Today's concern, and what a concern that is-

is about the legalization of pot -

there's those that want it de-criminalized

and those that claim it's another addictive drug

and there's those like me who couldn't care less -

I mean, I can't even inhale a puff of the legal poison!

What good would it do to legalize pot?

What good does it do to legalize or criminalize

anything at all?

As long as humans need laws to live by

its obvious they haven't grown up much

and insist on acting like a bunch of children.

Do we need laws at all?

That's the question we should be asking:

because those who make the laws

are the greatest criminals of all

and live by breaking most of them

one way or another - why should we trust them

to tell us how we should live our lives?

Go ahead, smoke your pot;

drink your booze; inhale that cigarette smoke...

rape, kill, lie, cheat, steal, brag, threaten...

Who are you hurting in the end?

And if a law stops you, what good is that?

You'll just wait for another opportunity

for you will never learn your lesson

if laws keep holding you back,

slapping you on the hand when you are bad.

Life Is A Game

Life is a game not meant to be won

but to be played for the play's sake.

But many are the fools

who think the game's a race;

who become the leaders in it -

not by effort, knowledge nor passion

but simply by blocking the way

so no one else can get by!

And these bullies would make you think

that life can only be played

by the idiotic rules they make -

and make - and make some more

thus hoping to hide their greed and ignorance.

And so, sadly, it becomes for most:

the great gift of life held in contempt;

earth and humanity existing as thralls

to the vexing absurdities;

the murderous greed

of market-minded entropic minds

(otherwise known as the rich and powerful).

There is a way to beat these arrogant fools:

play the game as it were your own

play it in wide open fields under the sun and rain;

allow it to develop its own tempo -

to create its own cadence:

Know it is an endless dance.

If others would compete with you in it;

if they would make new rules

insisting its how the game must be played,

find another field, another corner of earth:

play there with other friendly hearts.

And when you are tired of the game?

Smile or laugh, and say goodbye

then just move on -

the Cosmos is a big place after all

and beyond every hedgerow

there hides another field.

Life Support System

We have sheltered ourselves

from the driving rain,

hiding from nature's cleansing tears;

we traded her reality,

lost touch, were blinded,

got all wrapped up in smog,

in the unreality of our

man-made environment

stuffing our cravings

to lonely misery and endless torture

for those lives we ruined

with our selfish ways.

Our senseless destruction

of a paradise world

blanks out visions of nature

that once filled our hearts:

they shall remain shrouded now

until we realize our mayhem

is killing our beautiful,

our only planet:

isn't it time to park this vehicle

we have been joyriding so recklessly?

We are out of control

a short time and all will bleed

the life support system

is taxed beyond the max.

Man's World

Man's world:

a world of rules and regulations,

of do's and don'ts,

of limits and boundaries.

Man's world strangles the mind

in the child

and imprisons the body,

denying it natural form and function.

Belief systems are imposed

and fashion dictates.

Laws demand conformity

or penalty.

False morality rules;

while millions die of starvation

and millions more

are killed in wars

or die slowly in prison camps,

love-making is declared sinful

and fortunes are spent

to keep one comatose body

from going to the morgue.

This world of repression

prevents man from attaining

his full potential as nature's child.

It nurtures anger, hate and fear

for these are the hallmarks of the System:

in this state of mind

a human distrusts even himself,

giving up his very soul

to the gods who rule this world -

and that

makes him a truly immoral being.

Marriage And Friendship

I have a friend, a person I know well:

two marriages she went through,

both ending in divorce.

I asked her why;

why invest so much of one's life

in another's and then, just end it?

It's life, just life, she told me:

a great, misunderstood mystery.

Marriage is only a convenience

something many are forced into

for the illusion of support;

the illusion of sharing

in child rearing and financing:

it's what one might call business

though it may begin as pleasure,

it's certain that for most

the pleasure does not endure.

Every relationship we have

should move us to friendship:

I mean every relationship,

for friendship is truly forever.

If your marriage prevents friendship,

end it: begin the great adventure

and become friends.

I divorced my partners

because they were so wonderful

I wanted them as friends

and so they are to me today.

Oh, one thing more: I needed my own space

and that is never possible within marriage.

Marriage is a convenience

friendship is forever

O, Bless Me, Universe!

How many times have we heard the line:

Oh, the Universe is a big wish-granting machine.

Trust the Universe and all will be well

for the Universe cares about you.

Oh... yeah... says I?

let’s see if I can use a comparison

to illustrate this particular New Age saw:

Your entire body is renewed every seven years,

meaning every cell in your body has been replaced,

meaning every cell has died and gone to heaven...

or wherever cells go, that is.

How many of those cells were you aware of?

How many did you call by name every morning?

How many did you ask if they were doing well?

How many did you offer a hand to

or give a big "Thank you" for taking care

of that wonderful organ you call a body?

We are but cells in the universal body.

The universe couldn't care less who we are,

what we do, how long we live, or even

where we go, if we go, when we die.

Like a drop of water, a leaf, a bird on the wing,

we are a function within the greater function,

and that's that - for the universe at least,

personal beliefs notwithstanding.

So, ease off on the BS of universal goodies:

the Universe is not your big sugar daddy

and a diet of such beliefs makes one obese

in the book shelf area - save your money:

buy an ice cream cone - enjoy the moment.

Overweight And Hungry

Is it not ironic

that in this country

so many spend money --

lots of money!

to look like a third world person,

while so many there

struggle desperately every day

to stem their gnawing hunger?

Somehow the Jenny Craig's

Weight Watcher's,

and the 30lbs, 30days, $30Magic!

have so many believing

dieting's the only cure

to losing sticky fat

or most importantly

having too much money!

Either way you always lose

something in the end here

and need to come back

again and again.

A friend of mine

of practical

if slightly bent mind,

had this great idea:

open up weight loss clinics

in Haiti and Somalia.

You see? he said innocently,

it'll cost a lot less to operate,

and the effect,

instantaneous, if not permanent!

I wonder if his business

is booming yet?

Peace Or Harmony?

Why can we not achieve peace?

Why are we so obsessed with war –

with remembering war,

planning war, waging war?

We know all war accomplishes

is the killing of innocent people;

we know war destroys the environment;

we know war has never led to peace.

In my mind, I hear a voice whisper:

“Peace is not the absence of war:

it is an “absolute”

it denotes total lack of motion;

Life in 3-D equals movement,

thought, followed by action

therefore no peace can be achieved here.

Any movement creates conflict:

waves crashing into other waves

to the very edge of infinity!

Instead of reasoning “peace”

it would serve better to speak of

“degrees of conflict”

which conflicts we can live with;

which we cannot.

This is the way

to balance and harmony

(in real life!)

a simple exercise

that has the power

to end the need for war...


Poetry Mechanics

'Word Mechanics'... are as a mindset pox,

restricting thought to only in 'The Box'.

Those who choose to scribe free-verse

saying "to hell" with grammar mechanics

may find it greatly expands mindset's range.

So to free my verse and say what I mean,

(and mean what I say) I say:

there's them that'd fail you

in a simple driver's test

'cause you didn't know the difference

between a spark plug and a transmission

even though your record shows

you have impeccable driving skills.

Mechanics are skilled individuals

to fix what's wrong with your car;

they're not your taxi driver,

nor the only ones licensed to drive!

The same goes with moving words

as with driving cars:

Poets, traditionally,

are much like the prophets in their day:

they observe their society,

record their times in verse

that others may take warning

or may find hope in the way.

I cannot imagine Michelangelo

painting by numbers... and

I cannot see word mechanics -

those who put words before meaning -

bringing joy to a world of sorrow;

guidance to a world in chaos;

love where hate still rules;

or expressing passionately

a brief moment of suspense

when the drunken husband comes home

to find his victim-wife gone forever

except in his haunted mind.


Shallow minds need shallow thoughts

for comfort is what they crave...

My thoughts are not gathered

from shallow, stagnant pools

where filth gathers and floats

and sinks to murky non-depths

and smells rise putridly

on the passing of a casual breeze...

Rather, I gather my thoughts

from the deepest wells ever dug

where treasures of past and future

are hid from the average eyes;

where the freshest waters seep -

for I knew from the time I could know

that the world of man is parched for truth

and many are those made sick

from drinking of the shallow muck

and so I rest in defense of my case:

my poetry shall never be

for television fare nor radio blare

nor ceremonious book-signing fanfare!

I must add for those who question

the motives behind my words:

If you want to sell crackers and beer,

sell crackers and beer;

but if the muse of words

chooses your heart for a home

take care you do not become her pimp

and sell her for a prostitute.

The Fools Tax

It’s hard to imagine anyone

volunteering to pay an unnecessary tax,

yet every day millions are collected

by government agencies

in monies no one ever had to pay.

It’s a fools tax – and how does it work?

By the simple application of greed.

It’s called “The lottery.”

The carrot on the stick – the longer the stick,

the bigger they make the carrot

and the trick works I daresay

even beyond the wildest dreams

of those who invented this insane game.

Oh sure, sooner or later one of the tax payers

gets a windfall: millions of dollars;

a small percentage of what was collected –

and the press and media play it for all it’s worth—

sorry, way beyond what it’s worth –

and all the losers remember is how much

so and so “won” in the draw.

Wouldn’t it be simpler and easier

to just ignore this insanity?

Keep one’s money, give a few dollars

to some legitimate need or a homeless person

and just enjoy the “feel good” from that?

No one likes to be a loser, no one

and yet what is a lottery?

A game for losers and of losers – guaranteed.

The Poet

I the poet, see the world in words

a soaring Arctic tern below white clouds;

a reddish leaf fluttering, playing, in a gust of wind;

a colorful stone by the river's bank,

with lines upon it's face;

stories from a million years waiting to be read;

a rain storm following lightning and thunder;

a chance encounter with one who dares accept

that anyone can do a better job than any god

at creating reality and guiding life;

a walk through town, in sun or rain

just to observe people interacting

with each other; or with their dogs!

These are my poetry;

it's how I see the world.

My interpretations are not meant to hurt

but to provoke a new thought or two:

to awaken the sleeper;

feed an idea to the mischievous

in search of new comments on life;

or give the bigot a needed break

between judgment and condemnation.

Word Mechanics

There are those a-plenty

who cling to form, rhythm and rhyme

creating their “poetry” from such -

and one must wonder why!

So much meaning lost

in silly attempts at embellishment

by wanna-be’s and lazy bees

to emulate the great poets of the past -

but is it only pride that moves here?

Oh no! ‘Tis ignorance, you see:

they have so little to say;

not having the gift of either

oratory or observation:

so they primp and pad and pamper

their miserable offerings

and turn to prejudice and name-calling

when someone plainly states

what’s plain to see

but requires a heart to say -

a heart, a kind of courage,

they, as yet, do not possess.

But time, my friends,

is a forgiving concept,

and good it is we were given some:

there’s always hope for change

as long as time remains.

Would They Be Happy

I sit beside a mountain lake,

its surface smooth as crystal,

reflecting changing hues

of late afternoon...

I get to thinking.

Would doctors be happy

if no one

got sick or hurt?

Would weight loss clinics be happy

if no one

became overweight?

Would drug companies be happy

if no one

needed drugs to ease their pain?

Would judges and lawyers be happy

if no one

broke any laws?

Would marriage counsellors be happy

if no marriage ever failed?

Would religious leaders be happy

if no one sinned?

A horrified and mortified lot they'd be

if everything worked perfectly.

All those self-important people

cut off from the gravy train

made of human pain:

How long would it be, I wonder on

before they're competing with me

hunting recyclables in ditches?

A bald eagle sweeps over the waters

just as a beautiful crimson sun

touches the edge of a distant peak

turning the sky a bright orange:

it's time to set up the tent.

You Took My Money, Where's My Cure, Doc?

I say, will they ever find a cure

for that dreaded thing we call cancer?

Think for a moment what would happen

to all those fancy establishments,

research facilities and accoutrements;

specialists and their bevy of helpers?

It would certainly mean more

than a few jaguars repossessed, wouldn't it!

A few multi-million dollar mansions

in the hills, on the seashore, on some island,

would also be up for grabs...

Patients: oh well, why not call a spade a spade:

I mean, managed human pain and suffering

is the price we must be willing to go on paying

to keep the money rollin' up those golden streets.

Well, at least it's the price the selected few

who lied, cheated and kicked their way to the top

are certainly quite willing to charge -

The question is, how much we are willing to bear

while we watch our children die?

So, you will be tempted to say:

do you have a better way? A certain cure?

Well, let me say, at least I know this:

that whatever “they” are up to in their white coats

certainly isn't working, so nothing to lose here -

everyone of us possesses any cure for anything

for there's no such thing as a disease,

just a great collective lack of understanding

coupled with a great collective fear.

Didn't a man of his day once claim,

(after curing a man blind from birth)

that greater things than that we would do?

Isn't it about time we got serious about it

and stopped putting our lives in the gaping mouths

of little white sharks with drugs and scalpels?

I'm willing to think about it - seriously!

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