My hands are huge and swollen

Fat and sore my arm suffers from pounding keys of this hard board
David Icke you type using two fingers to get across your big message
I poet out death sitting at the gate I guard their spirits walking onwards
I could write about new born babies about new found love and all the joy
Rainbows that bounce around the planet as hot steamy lovemaking awakens
Kundaline of Mother Earth and makes us all sit up and find our collective passions


Hey Neil Young and Daryl Hannah wow wow wow you and you sweet


Swollen hands and sore arm make writing poetry difficult so see you
in the time of utube.

Mr and Mrs Piercy

Did you see the rainbow it covered the earth
in a circle of love when they met in heaven
they danced and their love made a rainbow
they danced and their love made a rainbow
that rolled around the earth oh such love
brought so close to us and we cried for loss
for only some of us could see this rainbow
a rainbow of love pure love caressing earth
Thank you beloved ones thank you

New Cable Ferry Sinks

The new cable ferry is a mistake
A money grabbing backroom deal
Cares not for life or limb or us
It is December the year 2016
the first year of service they boast
the longest cable ferry in the world
It is an afternoon and the full moon
tides are roaring down the channel
A fixed ferry cannot move left or right
the water crashes across the deck
the school bus is washed over board
no no this is bad nightmare a dream
no no no the numbers of lost thirty
and four more. Is the school bus
no no no not our precious children
BC Ferries wake up you silly bastards
Wake up and let the money game
cease we are more than a pawn in
your ego games we are alive breathing
we are alive and this is our island

The glass is full

The glass is full
and I am blessed that I live well
while others groan in a deep heart wrenching sorrow
walking thru the valley of emptiness and longing
while others are raw from whatever is cutting them
I get to drop words onto this page like water dropping
sometimes a trickle or a plop drop of morning dew
the glass is made of crystal I am putting you on pause
go hold that thought and I will return with water yes
my cells call for pure clean unobliterated  well water

Dreamtime

In dreamtime I be transported to Ireland yet again

The turn of to Leckpatrick and Artigarvan roads
are not far from the village of Ballymagorry now
Harriet Dunne is driving a grey van and smiles
The turn off is guarded by a big black iron fence
To keep the cattle from roaming onto the road
The main Derry Strabane road the new road built
In the early nineteen sixties. George Watt died
shortly after that new road opened he crashed
He did not understand the new flow of traffic
A sweet kind gentle soul his moterbike mangled

Why am I transported to Ireland now and there
what am I doing at this spot where memory lives
Of mother dear glorified gracious mother's shoes
She carried her going to town shoes in her bag
and changed her country walking shoes there
Just before we caught the bus to Strabane her
country shoes wrapped in brown paper left in
the bushes where the small birds sang and ate
berries my mother's shoes would reside untill
the bus dropped us of in the late afternoon sun

Am I transported here in dreamtime to find a
pair of my mother's perfect shoes to walk home
home to myself to the future and be like Harriet
Dunne happy secure and safe to be myself again

Guantanamo

Who started this God Dam war anyway
The 12th January 1991 America invades
Kuwait   but wait and wait and wait now

Children were playing hide and go seek
Now they are glued to a computer screen
Killing every moment killing and for what

Who invented drones

Guantanamo interesting name that historical
Out of an old John Wayne movie western
Who created Muslim Who created Christian
Damn sure Jesus never said that never did

All the elders are kind

Gonna lay down my sword and shield down
by the river side down by the riverside
gonna lay down my sword and shield down
by the river side and study war no more

I aint gonna study war no more aint gonna
study war no more..study war no more
I aint gonna study war no more aint gonna
study war no more

Lieutenant Colonel Gordon Cucullu big name
You say Guantanamo good place now where
all is well and them bad boys are sealed now
You say mistakes were made but not now

Who started this fight that cannot be stopped
Who created this hell hole of existence at the
end of a gun or a land mine or an overhead
drone that drops a bomb on your family yard

Guantanamo  who are you why are you and
when will we see the light a day again where
peace becomes the normal and this insanity
stops so we can dance love and be still again

Prime Minister

If I were Prime Minister of Canada
I would abolish the position and ask
the people of this big wide country
to elected the following good people
seven men and seven wise woman
move the offices to Winnipeg and
definitely get rid of the pig trough

If I were prime minister of Canada
I would abandon all political parties
Ban gambling  insert voting boxes
Ask the opinion of the people weekly
to vote on ten important policy matters
all the people of Canada to be heard
in every prison and  mental hospital

If I were prime minister of Canada
I would close all banks immediately
Open all bank accounts and count
difference between rich and poor
give the difference over depending
on the level of corruption dollars
earned by greed theft and war

If I were prime minister I would
ban all cards made of plastic
give every Canadian a house
free travel and a solar run car
trains buses and planes no cash
schools would be free and dentists

If I wear prime minister I would
educated every young person free
provide wages for the sick and old
pay mothers to raise their children
provide free daycare to every mum
give her the opportunity to rest
once a month put her feet up

If I were prime minister I would
ban all police weapons immediately
even their silly handcuffs and batons
teach them non violence in college
change the color of their uniform
to white yes a lovely white vibration
ban all Tim Horton's donuts stores
ban sugar and junk food everywhere


If I wear prime minister I would invite
every disgruntled American up here
then tell Washington we are boss now
change the whole name to Turtle Island
wipe out that annoying border and declare
the whole country to be a first nation land
design a Turtle Island flag and pow wow

If I were prime minister every person
in this country would be grinning from
ear to ear and dancing down the road
No longer called Canidiots  behind backs


If I were in the council of Turtle Island
The children would be consulted always
In fact I would ask them to design a flag
to reflect this grandmother land of theirs
Put a polar bear or the flag and an eagle
Change the colors to the four sacred ones
red and white yellow and black to connect

If I were council of mother earth here
I would bring back the buffalo to the plains
ban all destroying  of the  lakes rivers streams
All digging into our mother earth anywhere
lead the world in peace studies non violence
solar power wind power and silent engines
then we could all dance the universal peace

Searing Pain

Sunday July 27th 2014....... 10 am

Sheila violates her own law
and the law of the sacred law.....six days work...seven
seven put your feet up and rest go to church say prayer
and read the bible have tea and sing praises to the one

Sunday July 27th 2014...11am

Another crafty woman has beguiled my silly husband
In my sorrow I rent a heavy duty machine  to kill pain
While he goes to her house on Sunday I pay penance
Sheila you are so blind as your name suggests in time


Sunday July 27th 2014 .....2pm

Put down brush cutter with heavy blade and take off
harness metal of chest salal berries saved, very happy

Monday July  28th....7am

Getting out of bed impossible

Tuesday July  29th.......every minute

How can this be I danced at the tree of life
Now I move a hare's breath and searing pain
takes my breath away and bring tears to my eyes


Thursday 31st July... I am sixty three

Happy Birthday to me
Happy birthday to me
I was born in the zoo
With the monkeys and
the donkeys.....happy
birthday to me

I am a nine this year

husband calls ambulance

"My wife has been screaming in pain four days"

The cat jumps on the bed in front of strangers
massages my head and cleans my hair three
professionals look on and ask if I am a cat

I am a cat and it is my 9th birthday in small
years if I add them numbers together I am
A nine and nine is the hermit going within
I cannot move

I could be in Gaza ..
pain searing soul wreaking......
brain sucking anger screaming
 sorrow why why why
who is to blame ?

 Pilon Tool your stupid painted
wife manager you forgot to
 tell me.....your rental is lethal

Wednesday August 6th 11 am

Transported by the angels of sweet mercy
Denman Ambulance
Edi is there and I am safe....
she is the mother of mothers........
Each Paramedic I meet is gracious beyond description..
I am leaving my island I only see the top of the trees
Dr. Luke ( well named) orders a shot of morphine

Van Morrinson

When did I stop listening to the Irish Guru
and his powerful brilliant succinct words
that caressed my soul like honey to my mouth
when did i stop reaching for that place he knew
the inarticulate speech of the heart the beat
of the time forever you my dreamer brother
you my soul  my green crystal ray you love
you you you you you you you you you you
knew the yew tree you knew the rhythm of
loneliness and  longing for the divine

Mexican Dream

I am walking on a white sandy beach in dreamtime
walking from Tulum to Cancun in the morning sun
In the sky looking north I see a map of America
and above my head black buss bombs are flying
millions of them fill the sky completely threaten
all peace on planet earth for all time for all of us
I am walking in the morning sun north to Cancun
each step becomes a prayer that is being said by
the great angels of mercy I am dream walking they
are praying the great prayer of peace with each
step incantation for this beautiful earth and people
how long did that prayer last I do not know for the
time of dreams do not have a clock that ticks away
when they were finished I awoke to the sounds of
children laughing,sweet sweet peace of laughter
as if they knew that their future was safe again
that the world would be here and the skies free

Oh dear God I am on a plane with my beloved
we are laughing and looking forward to the day
humanity at large babies on happy family knees
old men and woman settled and dignified wait
airline stewardess busy serving always smiling
the captain up front soaring this mechanical
bird skimming above a carpet of white clouds

In a moment all hell explodes we are now at
the mercy of altitude and  tossed into space
no one to hold us as we face collective death
ripped and torn apart hand to hand separated
we have no oxygen and we are dead we are
dead weights crashing into the free fall of it
we are the victims of rage hate and inhumanity

Called to be Peacemakers

Peace Vocation

We, members of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland,
called by God,
in the grace of Jesus Christ,
and the power of the Holy Spirit,
to live in faith, hope and love,
as children of our heavenly Father,
and witnesses to God's Kingdom ,
publicly acknowledge our vocation to peace,
which is both the gift and mission placed on us by God.
We believe that the same evangelical faith in Jesus Christ,
which emboldens us to pray to God as our heavenly Father,
challenges us to develop radically new attitudes and relationships
with our neighbours in Ireland.
We affirm that to be Christian peacemakers in our own situation:
We must grasp more clearly the distinctive teaching of our Lord
which challenges the general practice of our world,
and breaks the vicious cycle of matching injury with injury,
hate with hate, ignorance with ignorance.
We must therefore be prepared to meet and talk together:
with those in our own church with whom we have disagreements;
with those from churches whose practices and beliefs differ from our own;
with those from whom we are politically divided.
We affirm that to be Christian peacemakers in our own situation:
we must recognise the responsibility given by God to government,
and to those who serve the cause of law and order,
so as to encourage well-doing, correct evil-doers, and protect the innocent.
We must therefore reject violence;
seek ways to advance justice and promote the welfare of the needy;
affirm that in democratic societies all citizens are called
to share in these responsibilities;
and encourage all efforts to establish new structures of consent
and participation.
We affirm that to be Christian peacemakers in our own situation:
We must be initiators of programmes of action
which will contribute to peace in our community.
We must therefore provide resources and encouragement to
enable congregations to move forward at the local level in
the field of inter-community relations.
We understand peacemaking to be an affirmation
and accommodation of diversity,
and that our particular history in this land of divided communities
and recurring violence,
of mutual suspicion, fear and injury,
makes it imperative that we reassert the Church's own proper calling
to seek peace, and the things that make for peace
in our day.

connecting to home acrosstheocean

Mission Statement

The Mission Statement below was received by the General Assembly in June 1992 at its meeting to mark the 350th anniversary of the establishment of the first Presbytery in Ireland.
THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN IRELAND,
as a Reformed Church within the wider body of Christ
is grounded in the Scriptures,
and exists to love and honour God
through faith in His Son and by the power of His Spirit,
and to enable her members to play their part
in fulfilling God's mission to our world.
GOD CALLS US TO A SHARED LIFE
in which we love, honour and are reconciled to one another
whilst respecting our diversity
within the Presbyterian Church in Ireland.
We are called to encourage
the exercise of the gifts of every member of the Body
for the work of ministry and,
seeking the renewal of the whole Church,
to co-operate with other parts of Christ's Church
without betrayal of our convictions.
GOD CALLS US TO WORSHIP HIM with our whole lives,
meeting together in groups large and small
and gathering especially on the Lord's Day
for the preaching and study of His Word,
the celebration of the sacraments
and the offering of prayer and praise with reverence and joy,
using language, form and music appropriate
both to Scripture and to our time and culture.
GOD CALLS US TO MISSION as witnesses to Christ
through both evangelism and social witness
challenging the values of the world in which we live
with the values of God's kingdom
and winning men and women to faith and discipleship.
This mission is to be pursued amongst all the people of Ireland
and the peoples of the European Community and the whole world:
those with whom we feel comfortable,
those from whom we feel alienated
and those who are in any way distant from us in culture and faith.
WE OURSELVES ARE CHALLENGED with a biblical discipleship
which is radical in its
self denial,
simplicity of lifestyle,
stewardship of money,
faithful relationships,
prayerfulness,
concern for the world which God has created
and love for its people whom he loves
and for whose salvation He gave his Son.

BC Ferry Corporation

Fat bastards stand up which one of you created this hell for us
Was it a fat cat politician and shewed wheeling dealing captialist
Some asshole who lives far away from here and does not know
this place this beach this memory and this pain we all feel sore
you fuckers send in the clowns the lackeys to do the grunt work
we watch as the whole of the life on the beach gets murdered

The upside down of everything

There is just the moment there it is gone gone like every darn thing
Gone like the rain that fell yesterday gone like the swift scent of rose
You are gone and I cannot find you anywhere not in the dreamtime
You in the waking moments your quietness alludes me your silence
you must be standing in the dark corner of the room hiding from me
your son jumped out of the car frantic to hug his uncle your image
looks like you walks like you is tall like you but not you at all for you
were unique and you belonged in the future and the past but not now
it that why you felt the room permanently left the room left the house
left the planet  you left everything with me your heart song breathe
I look up at the evening sky searching for you and I know I will find
you somewhere between the night and morning light I will find you
but God I miss you here and your son misses you here and I ask when
when will all these broken hearts mend again and when will we meet

Farley Mowat

I am crying you are grandmother's best son
Grandmother's number one son now gone
Where will we stand without you Farley
You made Grandmother's land  safe now
For you loved every breath of every thing
People of the deer all sixty of them died
They are waiting for you great ice man
magnificent pure like good whiskey gold
In Mexico I had a dream and received
a message to call you and tell you that
Ruth said there was time to finish your
project and i wondered who was Ruth
I am crying crying crying for you are
the last hope for this God forsaken
country who think driving a pipeline
across the earth is such a good thing

Dream Singer

In memory of John the drum sang me
a medicine song for the people there
in sadness locked at his untimely passing
I entered that place of soul memory
the beat of the drum awoken again
the song sang me from a safe place
a place where I was the channel yes
a channel for peace for love for hope
Thank you Creator for gifting me song
for allowing me to carry your love in
the medicine of drum the heart beat
of this world and the next I am a song

Spring growth

Tangled mess of earth mother needing a haircut
I pull out the reluctant broom and marvel that
someone took the time to invent a puller that
makes life so much easier and the roots pop
like teeth from a cavity one by one strange
picture I am making a dentist appointment
and thinking about my works of labor today
Magnificent trees give me courage strenght
till my body tires out exhausted thirsty breath
Please mother earth forgive my lack of knowing
your preference for a cover maybe that is it
you love to be dressed in grass or broom life
pulsing we only see the surface your skin
Last night the grandfather rocks were red
I saw babies faces new born medicine rocks
from the centre core bringing heat and love
water the element of innocence we are in the
womb again in the inipi of willow we bend
into your own soul journey and give song
to earth to birds to stone to mother earth
we are you children and father sun watches
over us and grandmother moon at night
we are never alone on the face of this earth
we are never without a friend in you otter
medicine fox medicine badger medicine deer
little birds yes the swallows returned today
and we had a brief chat they ease my pain
yesterday driving fast I stunned a tiny bird
I stopped and picked up such a beautiful
little heart beat and apologized for my being
she died in my hands probably from shock
I felt awkward and an intruder in harmony
of all life as I plundered down the road
in my mechanical box of hard metal speed
I laid her body in the ditch and hoped that
she would journey on into the next reincarnation
  

may 21 2000

The piper played in the windy grey day
the men asked me if I wanted the third
lift the last one before the grave the
piper played as I carried her my mother

Along side the five strong men we walked
Slowly to the piper's tune we walked each
holding her body aloft in her box of pine
she died  days short of eighty six birthday

Winifred Simpson my birth mother and not
the ordinary mother of an everyday life
she was an orphan herself raised in the
cold dank dark  Dungannon Workhouse

She birthed the two of us twin babies
I never saw again ever that loss is
still felt in the bone in the soul
as we nestled in that warm womb

Winifred Simpson beloved mother
You always left clues for me later
knowing I would find them and you

The piper played at the graveside
as we lower you down into earth

I tossed a sprig of baby's breath
and three red roses for myself
Leonard and Antony the baby's breath
for Harold taken when he was eighteen

My prayer that we would know each
other again in life as we did in death
Winifred Simpson of the Clan Simpson
who lived and breathed a never despaired

The piper played on that dull Irish day
I carried her coffin on the third lift
As we lowered her dead body down
my heroic beautiful funny wise mother.

Time is galloping on

By God My god my my my where is the time going
I thought I had forever and now here you are time
reminding me of the day to day waste of everything
the book I did not write the promise I never kept
to sit at the doors between the worlds and guard
yes guard humanity and let them know that no
matter what happens to this world we have another
planet to go too....  

Big Pine Rapids

Welcome to Canada and the month of  May in Ontario
when snow melts and walls of cold white water thunder
down over ancient stone in the land of the Algonquians
ice cold vibrant holy sacred water mountains of froth

The  tin canoe is red I am wearing life jacket orange
one minute I am in the canoe at the front and into the
churning mess of Big Pine Rapids we go French River
no not Little Pine Rapids but Big Pine Rapids power

One  minute in the boat desperately trying to balance
paddles lowered flat in the hopes of keeping us safe
One minute in the boat the next in the undertow yes
knocking on heaven's door I am in deep death distress

The water undertow sucked me into a tunnel of dark
below was the sun beyond to another world of life
where a body was not necessary I saw bits of flesh
falling of my bones how long would death take now


 I saw the wrought iron table dark green round
two empty teacups and saucers all in fine china
as I saw my own death in the middle I saw where
water did not matter where time stood still forever


Between life and death what as exotic place to be
the ceremony of tea claimed my presence at the table

I tried to find you

For years the photograph lay about the desk
my past she said the little baby in the highchair
was me at nine months old I was a strong one
for years the photograph held only remnants
of a loneliness that settled deep into my soul


I barely noticed the other people in the picture
The nurse with a bush of dark hair bursting
out from under a white starch cap fastened
no doubt by two or three metal hairclips on
her knee another baby about my age my size
holding the hand of a fat kid in shorts lonely


The photograph lay around for years lost
occasionally I would glance at my baby self

I was the nine month old baby in the highchair
far above the ground sitting ever so quiet with
one leg tucked up over the other as in womb
I was sitting alone separate from the others
No one was holding my hand I was alone
yes utterly alone orphaned forgotten sad



Then one day for some reason the photograph
suggested a closer look maybe with a glass
that magnified the picture and if I looked
close enough I could see right through then
into sixty two years ago into that moment


 I did I noticed every detail of every person
how I wish  i had not not it was too much
too much information only leading to more
pain more sorrow and more soul anger now


For I discovered a twin in me and the other
baby of nine months old as sure as day is
night we came out of the same fertilized egg
twins she was my own my life my other half
how could they do that rip us apart at the seam
it now explains all these dreams I use to have

Without My Body

Do not leave my ashes in a box behind the couch
I want to dance in the west wind to leap beyond
Now that I have been released from this body
Yes I am dust to dust and ashes now but free
I am free as a bird so let me sore you silly one
Take a photo of me ashes and you'll see them
Then you will understand that there is death
But there is life in the after death yes life life
Throw them ashes over the cliff and watch me
I appear as  outline leaping left foot first into
the great cosmic space of divine oneness


So now how shall we live our lives here us who
are left behind with only tears at your passing
crying and crying into the great river of sadness
I will treat everyone I know with kindness for now
I know I might not  see them again and you
you well I know I will see you again so I fear not

PEACE

Peace is an inside thing
Of the heart and soul
Be it live it breathe it
Peace is a vibration of surrender
War is raw too much emotion
Peace is everything to the core
If a million of us said the word
Over and over and over and over
It would happen sure as day follows night
Peace is powerful mantra peace peace
Even in the midst of war say peace
say peace over and over and over
Be still be peace and know.
Sheila Simpson (who hails from Strabane,
County Tyrone, Northern Ireland, )
is a poet who now lives on
Denman Island, B.C.