TEARS

How many lifetimes have I been crying
My sound is only that of tears falling

it is the not knowing who I belong too

My father my mother my story my hertiage
Was robbed at the starting gate

I am the very last of my tribe

I came to this earth yet again for you
Only you are dead and all that is left

Is this haunting lament for comfort
That is not mine not in this lifetime anyway

Potatoe Tears

I am a potato and my soul is in this earth core
core to be as wild as what was before we ate
what was designed for us we ate like robins
we drank from streams and we knew peace
deep deep peace like the river flowing deep
memories of  earth caked under fingernails
we became one with pink worm and crow
we became one with wind rain and sun shine
elemental one breathing in the fire of life

Running

Bullets are whizzing over my head
so fast so clean so powerfully
moving like greased lightening
I hide behind a large oak tree

I call my dead father's name loudly
Tommy McGowan's is my father
roaring into the still breeze over
 over and over my father's name
my father has been dead two years
I am calling him from the grave to
save my life on this quiet autumn day

Lines of History

http://victimsofnorthernirelandtroubles.rushlightmagazine.com/troubles.h

I am in awe of death
I am in awe of bullets
lodged in body parts

Three uniformed men
died on my stairway
Barrington Foster 
Michael Muldoon
Thomas Pentrose

British Officers
Fools in uniforms
Lured by women
To a late night party

Silly laughing drunks
A honey pot  ambush
as soon as they came
thru the door bullets

blood blood
everywhere blood blood


Barrington Foster
upper class British
Michael Muldoon
Scottish or Irish
Thomas Penrose
from a place in Wales

Dying at the bottom
of a antique staircase
in an old quiet dignified
Part of Belfast 1973

Thomas Penrose
Michael Muldoon
Barrington  Foster
You live in here

I had that party
six months earlier
Saying goodbye
to war for a while
Little did I know
death was stalking

On that antiqued
polish wooden floor
the blood of three
young men stays
three young men
amongst thousands
I contemplate your
dying often sad
I a trained nurse
was not there to help
To say a prayer and
offer my condolence
England Ireland
Scotland Wales what

Lines of confusion drawn on a bloody map
pools of blood defining the politic of greed
 

Holding On

Some pass thru your life like a leaf falling from a tree
Others stick to you like glue and are always there lurking
Am I the only one confused about relationship meaning
I hide in the back room behind the curtain uncertain of
Everything how I should be what I need to communicate
If I even need an audience to begin with if so why is that

My book of life is full each page a story of that day told
When I met you and fell in love now to look back scoff
For what did i know about love when I was only waiting
Waiting for my life to begin it took forty years of waiting
Mostly in the rain at the bus stop alone in damp shoes
Dreaming of songs that the Beatles wrote in my soul

I dreamed of riding horse back across the open Prairies
Me and Tonto looking for Kimosabi and Silver his horse
Dream neath a full moon and sleep with howling wolves
Instead the horse was a rebel rambler and I hide from
the elements of rain  and snow there was no romance
It was only in my head my silly romantic head waiting

Waiting for Godo  for waiting for the rainbow to dance
My dreams did come  true and i found all the elements
Only I had to wait a long time till I was well over forty
I rode my horse from Yellowknife to South Dakota
My legs have never been the same since bowed now

I love that Prairie sky where sun and moon  greet me
Where thunder beings collide with lightening man
I love that Prairie sky where time stands still forever
I am a breath in the wind and all my loved ones are
Above me shining down at night my ancestors dance

The land holds me like an old lover caresses me gentle
I remember who I am and why I returned to this earth
For the beauty of day and night for the song of birds
For the moon dance of forever I am a piece of dust
I belong here amongst rocks and stones and rivers

I am a stream of consciousness flowing with yours
Into you into a memory of when we were complete
When we understood the meaning of togetherness
When there was no time no beginning or end for us
We were the dust of heaven we were the dew drops







kimosabe

Goodbye

Phil CARSON   ( Sunday, 19 Jan 2014 )

Phil Carson April 15, 1948 - January 19, 2014 Phil has been an extraordinary presence in our lives. He rarely referred to his cancer as a ‘battle’, but rather as a part of his continuing journey in this world. Along the way he connected strongly with family, friends and community, lending a hand in times of struggle, a voice of celebration in times of joy. His passion for the protection of our natural world and, in the past couple of years, his commitment to health advocacy, is an enduring legacy. As a pioneer in healthy green home construction he was an educator, and as an international award-winning photographer and video producer of environmental documentaries, he was an inspiration. His greatest achievement has been his eight children; Brandon, Demian and Cody, who he shared with Sandy, and Carmanagh, Forrest, Joyalea, Wylder and Tananger who he joyously raised with his best friend of 27 years, Julie, as well as his two grandchildren, Madison and Chase. And in fulfillment of Phil’s characteristic optimism, a new grandchild is expected this summer. Many of us left behind hope to fulfill Phil’s greatest wish of turning the small family farm into an adventure/education retreat for children with cancer and their families. Phil felt surrounded by love and our thanks go out to the Oceanside Hospice Society, all his medical team and, most of all, to his unwavering friends and family; his Dad, Kit, siblings,Bruce, Paul and Barb and all his nieces and nephews who were such a source of inspiration and comfort during this difficult part of Phil’s journey. He has been the greatest friend. We know his continued travels will take him to wonderful and joyful places and he will continue laughing and finding humour in the next life as he always did in this one. To send Phil off on the rest of his journey, a Celebration of his Life will take place February 1 at 1:00 pm at the Errington War Memorial Hall. Phil would welcome your stories and your music. In memory of Phil, please consider performing a random act of kindness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                    Goodbye......................................You left like the morning star and there was never a moment to say goodbye for you were busy dying and dedicated you unfolded into a shell that was not you, for you were big and burly .I called my grizzly bear brother and kept a respectful distance.

 

Now you are a memory a memory of moments beautiful precious moments and my poem for you stands forever.

 

 

MY SINGING VOICE
MY BODY
MY THOUGHT
MY PEACE
MY ATTITUDE

Deadman Island

Don't come to deadman island you here now
come to denman island and time will swallow
you so fast that you won't even notice your
hair turning grey your shoulders slouching and
the glint of your eye dying you see the place was
cursed a long time ago back in the days of magic