The Moon Between the Mountains

The marmots whistled whistler
I hope they are still here
Grandmother moon woke me
To walk into my own dream
Whistler.....strange name

Grandmother Moon

I stepped into your light
In whistler between
the mountain peaks
you glide across the
night sky between clouds
they say the history of
the day gets written
across the sky them clouds
tell us the days news

Grandmother Moon
You are the big cheese
in the sky and I am
blessed this night to
meet you up close
from the Cascade Lodge
room 408 perfect
angle of alignment
between two mountain tops
you glide in the gully
between big so big

I sat up in bed and almost
screamed Oh my God
the moon look at the moon
and my husband woke up
he too saw the moon
and we both slept as he
muttered
your moonstruck my dear

Marigold

My Marigold was closed down
by jack boot RCMP pharmacists
baring some bill of legislation
marigold can no longer compound
natural medicines for healing
we are in the dark ages again
Marigold who are you marigold
the man behind the desk was
gentle and kind intelligent wise
the goons of the pharmacology
wrecked the store shelve order
throwing medicines into boxes
they are a law until them selves
I go next door to the politican
demand that he correct this matter
but he is a critic of indian affairs
so I left a note for him to act
my natural medicine that I need
for my gland sits on a shelf or
maybe it is thrown into a box
they have some law some bill
that gives them the right to
enter a busy place of healing
and close them down them
men in suits of pharmacology
they take away oil of oregano

Birds Singing

I rise with the dawn chorus
Take my body for a walk
To pee naked I stand
on soft green grass
all of me flows south
and the birds singing
get away from here
get away form here
get away from here

Mammy used to say
to me in her way
a little bird told me
she said when I
doubted her insight
a little bird told me
so sweet mercy of life
the bird know more than
we know

Eternal

Man I have been around for ever
reincarnated in Ireland many times
now I am here in Canada home
but not home yet I came too far
west it is not where I belong

Shift the dog

Everyone thinks I stole this dog
as if a dog has no mind of his own
I remember when he first came by
this strange beautiful being he was
pulling a chain with a wooden log
freed himself from some post
I had no idea who he was then
or who he was to become to me
years later I recalled my vision
realized it was him I saw then
he walked into my life unnoticed
I gave up taking him home again
now he sleeps under my boat
and refuses to eat wild salmon
he is an Ontario dog for sure
He is my guardian spirit and I
do not own or ever will own him
Like me he is a free wild soul

The yogi masters

Breath of fire kundaline yogi
opened up portals of my soul
oh you kundaline masters I
am an old dog trying to learn
new tricks but I am a quagmire
of emotions untamed and strong
my ego will be the death of me
I want to breathe in the fire of
healing but my left arm aches
that dam bastard surgeon in
Campbell River hurt me more
accused me of being mental
because I have feelings I was
hurt. I was attacked at dawn
and drugged into death for
three days.The doctor says
get over it and do not repeat
this information again he says
just say you were injured
I was attacked at dawn by
officer Mark Hunter and he
handcuffed me into emergency
where I was drugged with
hadol and activan strong
enough that I slept for three
days. Do not speak of this.
My arms have not worked since
except when the yogi master's
master did internal surgery
microscopic magic I say
I drove on the ferry before
loading time at dawn a
bloody simple mistake and
my life gets ruined by pain
arms are necessary for life
my left feminine side is sad
sore and wounded Kundaline
masters I call out to you

Change

What has to be endured
is the aftermath of death
He put a bullet in his head
now he comes to me silent
almost visible I sense him
he does not speak any words
but he is there I know he is
I am not scared of him at all
He was a sensitive man blamed
for many crimes he may have
committed or not who knows
I sense him in death at ease
that is the sheer beauty of it
I feel warmed by his presence

Death

I am courting you death seriously
life has lost its meaning to me
there is nothing exciting or brave
here on this island and my safety
has been compromised by traitors
of the worst kind mean nasty folk
who lie cheat and steal emotions
dysfunctional hard hearted souls
have invaded my county dwelling
my fault of course I invited them
The yogi master warned about it
so perhaps this path is good now
to see the true nature of evil on
the road well traveled lies deceit
surrendering myself to inner truth
is not a bad thing at all in the end
there is only love and love is all

Sheila Winifred Simpson

Country lass from Ballyheather where
the buttercups melted into green grass
and the rain fell soft and warming
born on a wet day in summer singing
all the time singing to the cows at
milking time in the barn or in field
grew up in a bliss filled beautiful place
heaven on earth and the water still
runs from the mountain stream forever
grew up in the time of revolution
in the time of guns bombs and bullets
watched walked waiting for it to stop
went to New York at twenty years old
music filled the air theater and dance
Canada was dull compared to America
had to come here to wake the place up
stand for the ancient rain forest my name
alone on an injunction to jail many good
kind compassionate brave people
Met Robert Kennedy told him off
accused him to negating the spirit
Peter Garrett of Midnight Oil offered
to spring me from jail for $1500
Canada never said thank you....
no mannered place is here
Walked peace across my homeland
walked across native land Kah Na Tah
walked down the road the other day
with Alexandra Mortin for salmon
maybe their is hope yet for Canada

Trying to remember

Maggie's farm I called Denman
I saw horses and buggies
I saw native people walking
in the mist from another time
It was nineteen ninety four
the place was locked down
like a school playground
Only a few real people left
who spoke out their minds
not afraid to offend anyone
free thinkers connected real
we saw them die over time
Jimmy Smith fisherman

Its late I am tired distracted
they were here though
laughed and danced more
before that they were
here or was us in other time

THE PLACE HAS GONE TO THE DOGS

Where have these fake phony folk come from
did they close down some middle class ghetto
in some distant Ontario town of school teachers
middle class well heeled dumbed down idiots
with no original independent thoughts beyond
that they want to get real get in touch pretend
Not farmers not back to the land at all no these
are folk who belong in a row of same little boxes

Denman is finished time to leave this place of woe

Denman Blues

Conform
Control
Connect
Collect
Collide
Console
Contempt
Consider
Conive
Confess
Contrite
Contradict
Contraban

Denma Censored Me

Are........ you going to.......... read a poem......

she asked
..............................................That was the first clue silly girl



She is a teacher you know.............................. pity them

Who run up against her.......................jackboot ways

If you have to take away the light
from another to make you shine




...................................................all I have to say is your in the dark girl