Monthly Archives: March 2013


I read this article this a.m.  It gives the earlier version what Eastre was before it became Easter.  Take a read.  It’s a beautiful thing. IMO.




Look East there rise

A new day’s light born again

The Way is fertile


Rise and awaken

Open your life to  Sun’s shine

Make blue the heavens


Push through winter’s ground

Reach your greening for the Light

Spring gives renewal


Re-story your story

Push away the boulder’s block

Open dark to light


Live well on this Earth

Follow her season’s story

Bloom, harvest, sleep, Spring


Renew Spring’s fever

Celebrate a fertile heart

Open to receive



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Mornin’.   I wrote the poem before I write this.  I have so much to say about curiosity, I could write a small book.  Maybe I will one of these days.    It is a trait, a way of living that I find incredibly important on so many levels.  I really would love a dialogue with anyone that wishes to be curious enough to join me in it.

peace and love people. peace and love.  And… stay curious and keep the questions rolling.




Curiosity… Forget that it killed the cat.

Or maybe the exploration of your light socket

Found what you hoped you’d never find

In the jolt up your mind to heart that gave answers

Best left uncovered, in that untruth.

Doing the Treasure Hunt of living.

Something will get you sooner or later.

Hope was at the bottom of Pandora’s Box


Life is splendid place when curiosity

Explores the corners to expands into the center

The mundane of what you see, of what you

Think you know when without questions

You story-tell all kinds of lies and foolishness

Cause you failed to ask and probe past the surface

Hoping conversation and perception would reveal the the hidden


Life wants to be known. You want to be known.

Curiosity fills the void, asks the questions

Tickles the edges to go pass the surfaces

Stirs the pot of desire that speaks to the passion

That Living and knowing is rich and it trembles

In the pleasure of being explored and questioned

A spark of desire that life is important enough

you are important enough for curiosity to find you


Live a curious life.  Let it kill you.


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PANTOUM for a Full Moon

COFffeeee… aaaah.  Here it is, the ending of the month, the full moon dwindles away to find her return in another 28 days or so, the sun rises for the blue sky’s opening, and I ponder the day.

The moon reminds me of my fullness.  It was in Libra, which I then imagine the balance of my emotions; how I feel and think with the pushing of other peoples need to find balance or not for themselves.  The thing for me to remember is that I can not balance anyone else’s experience of the world around them.  I can only attend to mine and let go of any reaction to outburst  that sets the stage for reaction, that sets the stage for conflict.  Defensiveness lead to more defensiveness.  Breatheeeee and let it go.  If it’s important, I will attend to it after emotions cool and balance resets.

Today… A Pantoum.  I love the style of this poem.  I left you with the journey of it at the end of mine.  give it a try, it has a surprising magical-ness to it that  I enjoy in the writing and enjoy in the first read when I’m done.

I invite you, should you try this simple form, to not think/feel to hard about it or do any editing.  See what happens

full moon on the Dease

full moon on the Dease


I let the fullness of balance fill me

Expanding into the flow of the day

Sun gives rise in the blue of the sky

I get to rather than have to


Expanding into the flow of the day

Feeling the view of what I see in beauty

I get to rather than have to

Changes the perspective of doing


Feeling the view of what I see in beauty

Life’s camera clicks the moments

Changes the perspective of doing

Gives radiance in the gloom


LIfe’s camera clicks the moments

No need to linger in the panorama

Gives radiance in the gloom

What’s past gives way to what’s next


No need to linger in the panorama

Sun gives rise in the blue of the sky

What’s past gives way to what’s next

I let the fullness of balance fill me



One way to write a Pantoum.


Start with “I.. (connect with an essential word – what are you feeling, experiencing?)

Start with “I.. (where are you)

Start with “I.. (what do you see)

What happens?

Repeat line 2

Write an emotional reaction to former sentence

Repeat line 4

Write a reaction to line 7

Repeat line 6

Write an emotional reaction to the former sentence

Repeat line 8

Write a reaction, a comment on the former sentence

Repeat line 10

Write an emotional reaction on the former sentence

Repeat line 12

Write a reaction, a comment on the former sentence

Repeat line 14

Repeat line 3

Repeat line 16

Repeat line 1

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Filed under michigan, NATURE, pantoum


Howdy… For those of you that visit often, ya probably notice I’ve changed it up a bit. Everyday is more like 5 times a week and I’m shifting my content a bit.   I’m experimenting with some other writing modes, pondering what else I feel like giving my words to.  I Welcome some feedback.  thanks

Today, 8 years ago, my momma transitioned, left this planet to vibrate somewhere else, or so I imagine.  Today is for her.

mom n' me

No replace for Mom

Heart connection beyond ash

I feel her light here


I feel her light here

In the around of  my days

Ever present love


Ever present love

A story to rock me asleep

Recall her tender


Recall her tender

Gather her whimsy giggle

Always will miss her


Always will miss her

The light string holds eternal

Love is infinite



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Filed under HAIKU, LOVE

WILL FARMER…a love story

Character study #3…



I’ve sat at the counter of Cherie’s Cafe every morning: 6:30am

For 2 years.  Black coffee, two eggs scrambled, with ham and

Onions,  potatoes crispy with chopped peppers cooked well

Mixed in, and white toast with butter on the side.


Cherie works the counter every morning, bright and cheery.

With her wide brown eyes sparkling and her one dimple flexing.

Brown hair all shiny in a knotted up pony tail at the back

of her head with a pair if black lacquered chopstick securing it.

She flows effortlessly behind the counter all smiles and

‘Hello how are ya, what can I get ya?  You got it. I’m on it.”


Cheery Cherie, that’s what I call her with a wink and nod.

I watch her in her just above the knee black skirt, and

tidy white blouse covered with some crazy colored apron

with endless pockets and pens of every colour clipped to it.

I think she’s got more aprons than nails at the hardware.

I guess you’d call it her signature style, her unique look.

I wish she’d let that long ponytail of hers swing free.

I wish she’d notice me other than ‘Hey Will, you havin’

the same?”  As she sets my black coffee in front of me

Giving me her movie star smile making my heart skip.


I say “Cherie, I’m gonna change it up this morning.

I’m gonna put some cream in my coffee.  I want my eggs

Sunny side up, with wheat toast slathered in butter, and

I want my bacon crispy, and give me some black berry jam.”

She gives a little gasp, hands on hips, some of the hair

from her ponytail flicking loose by her face and she says,

“Will, Will Farmer are you alright?  You sleep funny or somethin’?”

I say, “Nope, time to change it up, time to move along Cherie,

I’m boring, dull, and I have had enough of it.”


I pass her the Hallmark card I bought for her over a year ago

kept in the window flap of my truck.  My heart is out of my chest

Into her face, racing on this new stretch of highway I just got on.

“For me, Will?”  Her face all full of question and seriousness.

All I can say is, “Yep, for you Cherie, only you.”

She turns her back to me, folding herself around it in the opening of it.

It’s then I notice the silence in the Cafe against the thud of my heart beat

I turn just a bit to see everyone looking at me, then her, forks and spoons

Suspended in mid air, in slow motion while I hold my breath.


She wraps her arms around my waist, I settle back into the heat of her.

Her warm breath flutters on my neck, up to my ear in a restless shiver.

Heaven opens and the voice of an angel caresses my hungry heart.

“Will Farmer, what took you so long?”










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password therapy


can you hear me now

can you hear me now


Pass Word this Pass word that

Pass It all around this and that

Password out, Password in

This is not the Hokey Pokey

I’m singin’


Too many ways to Pass

Scramble words from the last

Make my brain recover please

Just one password is all I need


Write it down, lose it fast

Where the hell is that password at

Can’t get in try to reset

Damn those websites give their regrets


Tap my toes twiddle my fingers

Not in the mood to wait and linger

For that password to find it’s reset

Waste my time in my forget


I’m just about to pass this out

Word security that leaves me out

Pass this you frickin’ word

I’ve had enough you assterd


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Filed under Uncategorized


The first day of Spring may have held to cold, and shiver. Still with a thin layer of white on the Earth, and it gave me a blossom in my heart.


A Gift…


His gift was generous, caring, from the heart

Not even a chance to decline it, fuss over it,

Give a thank you in the moment of receiving.

I didn’t see it at first, laying on the counter

Waiting for me to let my eyes spill in the

unexpected heart race of gratitude.


A moment of gasp and shutter holding it.

I raised it up over my head like a cheer,

A celebration, an honor salute, a hail,

A thank you to the hero that gifted me.

Pulling it down to my gut, clutching it

As if it might be caught in the wind

Or maybe I needed to feel it deeply.


I let the gratitude fill me up,

A cherished moment forever

A gift for my well-being

In 20 years of service

In friendship

In stories

In life

In death

In love



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Spring Daisy Jones… Character study #2

SPRING…So it is, even without the green and bloom we’re all eager for.  The pattern of the seasons says so.  The day light settles between the Winter and Summer Solstice.  Persephone will walk the land giving of her verdant gifts.  Blooms Are on the way…




Spring Daisy Jones

She wore her name well, held to the day of her birth

when the pattern of the season gives it’s light just right

and the good bye to the cold and chill makes it’s stand.

The only child from the womb of Violet Jones, who was

long passed the age of birthing when love found her ready.


A red hair child born on the first day of Spring 63 years ago.

Hard to know if her Momma’s flourish for dressing her

All in soft greens, with hand made flowers pinned to her

dresses stuck to her for a life time, or being a child of the

60’s, when hippydom held her to the cause of Peace and Love,

Forever a Flower child with a treasure chest full of hand made

flower pins, and fragile wreaths made from garden blooms for her hair.


Her coffin is wide open.  She lays on a bed of moss green velvet.

With that treasure chest of faded flowers filling the spaces around her

I pass, looking down at her alabaster face still holding kindness

And years of good living ready to rest into the body of the Earth.

A wreath of fresh flowers crowns her faded red curls.

Her folded hands hold a peace sign and a heart.

John Lennon’s music plays in the background and I cry.


Spring  was every season of her life, ever a give of her blossoms

A living bouquet of a life ever in bloom and greening.

She came home to die, to be with her family, her old friends.

To wrap her memories around us, to pin us with her flowers,

Hug us with her Love.  To remind us to always give Peace a chance.





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I feel inspired from a book I read called Sunflower Country, by Dave Etter.  It’s gives poetics to a small town in the MidWest of everyone that lives there.  Each page is about a person in this village/town and some defining characteristic of them.  It’s all fictional and I felt very moved by a great bit of it.  I’m not sure where I’m going with this and I’m going to play with it…

train station

Mary Jane Ellis


She has her secrets like you do.

Stories not to be shared, sealed, hidden.

Composed of wants, desires, failures

Missed steps of pain, betrayal, fractures

On the journey of a life that grabbed a gasp,

A whisper, a shuttering heave of despair.

And let that breath carve a slit, leave a small

Pocket of invisible in the mind far away from

The spill of it on to a life well lived.


She keeps her secrets even in the want

Of their dismiss and the weeping sore

Deep within that oozes up to her surfaces

Just below the what can be seen red hot

On her skin’s  pulsing heart grieving..

Ready to be punctured in the pestilence

Of keeping caged that which gives

Agony to the train that expresses

through town with a wail and a no stop.

Of how secrets own her, hold her hard

To the rail track history that  left a lie forsaken

Begging for redemption’s gentle forgiveness


She wants her secrets to remind her, carry her

Along in the mystery of having something

That’s only hers and no one else’s forever after

In the Keep  that haunts her loneliness punishing.

Making sure that every day passes with a strike

Of a hush across her mind in the roar of the train

In the wail of her secret at 8:18 passing everyday












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Saint Patty for green

Calls the winter to let go

Hurry little elf


Cranky leprechaun

Dirty little bugger cheat

Glad when it’s over

Mercury reboots

Illusions travel backwards

Forward messenger

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