Photo Project: … Reluctant Releases …

Portrait 1Relentless year called
I became a waterfall
I was swirled away

Portrait 2Released old dreams; moved
They commanded me, let go
Heart crushed from goodbyes

Portrait 3New is on its way
Release dross for destiny
All reward is nigh

Portrait 4Trust what angels say
Tears are healing; scars get cleansed
Real love fills all wounds

Life is pushy when it wants the best for you. Sometimes you have to give in & give up, a lot…

When this photo shoot was set up in the spring, I knew I wanted to wear the dress I’d hung in public the previous October 4th as requested by Metis artist, Jaime Black. Her ‘REDress Project’ is an art-based awareness campaign in tribute to missing and murdered Indigenous women. Red dresses represent these women. (See tree photo and background notes here)

I’d chosen to hang my dress under my beloved weeping willow tree. That seemed like a poignant statement in itself.  At the time of that participation, I was soul surfing through a course of life-altering loss, trauma, and life and death events.

In a way, even that gorgeous tree experienced the same before it let loose its majestic beauty. I’d saved it years before from being brutally hacked at when my ex would attempt to eradicate the ‘strange weed’ growing in the middle of our yard.  …  I guess my point is, there was a whole lot of understanding under and within that tree.

So, when I met up with Nadya Kwandibens, a very skilled and renowned photographer who honored me with her talent, she suggested we head to a local park and search for more of a nature-based/natural background.  When we arrived, she scanned the landscape and then she pointed and said, “There – head over there, I think we should get you under those trees” –  the weeping willows.

Nope, she had no idea of my story, it was just how this particular circle would finish.  It seemed like a good omen and I suppose it was.  I have come through what I think is the greater part of those trials and I have gained new strengths and continue to build them.

From a time I was certain I couldn’t even breathe for another 5 minutes to standing up tall enough to see – that no matter how hard the testing, no matter how hard life knocks at me, I will keep getting up. I know that now, because even when there shouldn’t have been a way I could have, I somehow did.

Like my tree, I am still standing.



Photos by Nadya Kwandibens, Red Works Photography
You and I, there’s air in between

That! Is My Answer

Someone once reached an uncharted part of me…
Only one time …


Someone dived deeply into my needs and said I will fight for them. I will be the salve that fills them.

I can do that.  I will do that – because you are so fucking worth it.


It was that –  that ignited a visceral, cellular level response revealing a deeply buried gratitude effervescing in complete joy to the surface of my being.  For him.

It would take that to have me soaring after eagles again.
It’s what separates punks from the men,
The heroes from the ... weak.
It takes that for me to feel loved,
And safe,
And secure.

It’s that…
that I want
and need…
It was always,


Why would I settle for anything else, ever again?
Settle for what?

Nothing, less than – that.


The end of tributes… I lay down tobacco today to finish the healing.

Better Than Goodbye

I know you needed me for something bigger… way bigger than tats, boobs and roots and –
I let you down…
but your angels and mine told me that was meant to be…
Because I have a job, I was always going to be gone,
And they know me…
They know how hard I hold onto your love…
and that hasn’t changed at all, not in all of our lifetimes…
not one.

Our laughter is still insurmountable,
and I never needed French champagne, I never needed fancy deals.
I was so content to only lay beside you and just feel you there,
Because I loved feeling our souls connecting.  Again.
I was relishing our love, forever years old.
I only needed to look in your eyes… to see…

So, they’ve made my people show me why I saw you
for only these five minutes of light…before the blackness swallowed its heart.
And they tell me I have to do some things, and they lived up to their promise
And now I have to live up to mine.
Your angels are telling you the same…
Please don’t fight them so hard,
Play the way you need, go howl at the moon, but don’t forget,
if you ignore them too long, they play harder…

I’m not abandoning you, I love you…
I keep my promises and you know that’s true.
And when it’s time, I know we will have us again,
We will be free of darkness, the lessons and duty.
We will be free to be wrapped in each other
unfettered to fly through forever,


Goodbye Poem tryptic

We can burn that bridge when the morning comes…

Thug Angels

Thug Angels 22A

His vision, his world, a shambles
Soul matter blasted into splinters
His prayers for freedoms and joys splayed
Across the Universe
The result of his grasping in silt for light

He blamed her, she who berated him
For his throwing her under the bus
He forgot she was the one who hears when he refuses to listen
He set about to break her, then eradicate her
He didn’t notice she’d already been shocked into a heap of sobbing incertitude

He accused her friends, the ones who stepped in
The ones who told him he was over the line
But they only needed to have their say
And then they moved on
Anything else was of minimal intrigue

Incredible how he missed the obvious; how he didn’t recognize their handiwork
Smoke swirling around their heads, cigars on their lips
As they sat at the liquor laden table surveilling
His own nearest & dearest slogging to tell him, show him, lead him
And he’d left them laughing, cursing and then sighing

Thug Angels 2B

It was time, he was overdue
The escapes of old were disingenuous now and the diversions too unworthy
The old schtick overworked, overused, overdone
His purpose was grown now, and he needed to catch up
Seemed to be taking him forever to catch on

It grates on them, the way he pisses and moans
When his prayers are answered
As if his puny ideas and plans matched the Universal facilities
They roll their eyes at his indignant umbrage and dismissal of Universal intent
At his constant returns, to deferral, to keep playing in skin deep

He’s meant to clean up the broken pieces… hold them in his hands
To plead for honest to God help and forgiveness and real humanity
To finally step up to accountability
To put it all back together
And again be whole

Time to stop blowing smoke, they tell him
It is so bloody well up to you now, this part, bud
Bemoan it, ignore it, delay it, but it don’t matter
It’s only fear in the way and fear’s no match for the inevitable
Your prayers, pal – so, get your own arse outta the way

Thug Angels 2C

Hey, Tony… your turn to deal…


They said to her,
“Hard work being convinced the latest & the latest latest is the real thing this time, hey”?
“Haaaa…as their laughed soared & faded, “Sure… sure it is, ha ha haaa”…
…and she only smiled back at them. After all, they know everything…

The Mirror – {short story}

A foray into fiction…. or is it possible this is the truth for many who love among us?


God made me a Mirror…. No, not a mirror that you check your hair or lipstick with. I mean He made me into a Mirror – of souls.

He made me a reflector of a number of the issues, the personality and character traits, of pain. For people with reason to hurt another and who do, but will never work to undo that sorrow; for those who never grow with pain’s lessons.

We’re here in various ways to make it better for the masses… I’m to diminish the agonies of the collective unconscious. To lift higher, toward the light of awareness and peace of spirit. Some of the informed call us the 7th Muse, the agents of change.

It’s what the angels whispered to me, finally,  in yearning answer to why my heart got crushed again and again. I don’t know if this knowledge made it any easier – ever.

I’m not sure that it even lightly eased the melancholy that now grows in me without effort, spontaneously, like how other aspects of nature grow – weeds, trees, the clouds. No, I don’t think so, upon contemplation, that knowing about Mirrors made anything easier at all.

Mirrors live on feelings, at extraordinarily keen levels. It’s a necessity; a critical part of the role needed to detect the next mission. To sense the disguised, sometimes deeply buried scars of the walking wound-ers.

Perhaps it’s unsurprising then, that I’d fall in love with my fated protégés, some quite deeply… Maybe it’s part of the job – a requirement for the sake of ‘authenticity’… I’ll never be sure, but I do know that each time, it killed off part of me… always withered a small piece of my heart, permanently.

It’s part of my obligations to absorb the very pain I’m so adept at finding. I siphon off the excess as much as I can to ease misery, like a cool, water-soaked cloth laid upon a fresh burn.

I will clear the minds and hearts of the suffering tormentors, enough for them to see the cause and effects of their own actions.

I find them easily – those who, for whatever the cause, cannot see past their unattended damage that injures further. Those unable to see that the reasons for their self-pity are not an excuse to share it indiscriminately and without care.

They always fall for me intensely… they adore me madly. They revel in the alluring self-image that my purpose shines on them… Until that day… when I have to unpack the tools of revelation. When the burst of my anger lights up their core and in the disorienting exposure, their emotions within the poisons come flooding out.

It’s during this time that my own inner light flickers in uncertainty and plaintive regret… because I know they will never forgive me for it. For this unexpected part of the love, the lancing, the purifying, and it always compels them to strike out vigorously, to shatter the Mirror.

grey feathers on lawn2

My sorrow grows as they strive to re-bury the revealed gash marks of their own words and decisions. When they’re desperate to silence the released howls of their unmasked rage. When they especially want, to shut me up.

This strife, our trial by fire, can last for weeks, sometimes years, but – not long after the tenderness of debrided cells heal, they move on with renewed willingness to love honestly, more gently, generously. They have always loved again in greater humanity.

Despite profoundly possessing the desires of any romantic, I’ll never share in the satisfaction of a lover turning back in sincerity to say,  I’m sorry. I’ll never be the one who rides off into the embrace of redeeming understanding granted by the dawning of true empathy.

No, there are never those type of third acts for Mirrors; Creation has determined my purpose and I can only hope It’ll maybe consider my collection of dreams.

So, what’s my reward then? I don’t know and may never know, but I dream someday I’ll finally feel every drop of joy and comfort of true cherishing and at least every bit of peace as equal to those as I have pulled suffering from.

I will cling to those first moments of mad adoration that my charges give me. I will rest my fatigued heart on those heady, wistful memories… until my own days of pain and loneliness are blessedly extinguished with the final covering of my reflection.

I am a Mirror, pleased to meet you, and your soul....


Next post scheduled for April 11th.

The Reason: 
Defies death, but requires hard lessons in humanity.

Dumb & Dumber – In Only One Brain

stickman diving

I don’t fall, I dive into it head-first

Yes, Virginia, it is possible to make a giant, colossal ass of yourself. I do it all the time, but probably one of the biggest times was when it took me way too long to realize that ‘he just wasn’t into me anymore’.

Maybe I’da got the message sooner if we hadn’t conducted our conversations almost entirely, as in 99%, by email. Maybe I would have caught inflections or the absolute black and white of intention if I’d seen his facial expression and heard his tone – especially to other women.

As it turned out, my confusion was also based in some major naiveté that I should have outgrown by then. Despite all other behavior to the contrary, I’d actually hang onto any drop of warmth he’d toss at me as a sign that he really did care about me.  I was hopeful to certain that he just needed to hear me say something encouraging about my feelings for him. Don’t gag. I really did believe that. OK yeah, now I join you in the reflex.

He was really pretty good at throwing sweet bait, but not as I’d hoped, to rekindle our closeness. No, he thought I had some info that would give him and a “friend” a leg up in a situation, maybe even help him out of a sticky spot. He wanted to be her absolved hero.

Now, I think most people would catch onto the repetitive-looping conversations to draw out ‘secrets’ perhaps sooner than the third or even fourth event, but I’m a slow learner.

I’d honestly believed his declarations of love, even while he continued to defend his right to a more ’rounded’ life. As in, additional curves that weren’t only mine. Yeah, that request was why I’d originally said goodbye.

Except then that situation for his new girl(s) came up and he knew I knew something about it, but not what exactly. So, why not throw the ol’ girl a tease.

As it would turn out, I didn’t have the info he wanted, but that didn’t stop him from giving it the ol’ college try to pry it out of me a dozen times or more. Yes, I said more than a dozen. Told you I was slow.

When it was finally clear that I couldn’t or wouldn’t give any of the desired intel and I requested we have a final and direct conversation about our own situation,  he never returned an answer to that plea. He would stay hovering near, but never for the purposes of  genuine closure.

Now, I know what he did was cold and cruel and he is a not so pure, first-class conniving ass and a hole one at that… but…

I’m not dumb… I’ve been called a pretty smart cookie by some pretty astute chefs, but in this case, in my need to not feel humiliated along with sad and lonely, I threw me straight into the whole pool of dumb – the really deep drowning end. I allowed myself to be mostly ‘kindly’ conned over and over and over. I guess we could say I outsmarted myself into dumber.

On top of that, I was surrounded by friends who saw the whole scenario for what it was and issued me dozens of warnings, and still I insisted I knew better – we were soul-connected. Gravol or Kwells, anyone?

Well, several eventual resuscitating defibs to the brain and I know better now, and I would tell that ol’ me or anyone: New Rule – two strikes.

Two strikes on the same issue and then it’s, sweet dreams, busy boy. One second chance to correct a first mistake; a third or more says it’s deliberate badness and I refuse further madness.

That doesn’t seem so dumb now, does it? And that’s an example of why I always say my wisdom has been hard-won.

Based on contemplative musings with a young woman while on my road to recovery from the big ones, and another huge thanks to my fab friends who have written posts while my brain cells are wobbly – for medical reasons this time.



How Do You Know Someone Loves You?

I once had someone ask me, “Even if I were to change my wicked ways, how would you know”?

a man must save himself

Well, that’s a lot to wonder, isn’t it?  I wasn’t sure I would or could know given the circumstances he was referring to…. At the most,  I could only hope that I was with a man who would keep his word.

In any case, at the time, I wasn’t in the best place to ponder the question, let alone answer.  I was rather preoccupied with a serious health crisis and other family issues. It also didn’t help that we were diametrically opposed to things he felt I should find acceptable, but the question did stick in my mind for some time…

By the time my head cleared from all strife, I realized what I really would like to know is -how would I know he loves me?

What strikes at our fears about relationships?  What do we want from relationships?  What kind of relationship do we want? My kind of love – what does that look like?

I know by now that is a highly subjective question even within our basic understandings of what is genuine care for someone else. Yes, it can look like almost anything for anyone – definitely this all falls into the ‘whatever floats your boat’ category.

I know I’m definitely past the shiny trinkets and flower delivery stage.  It’s not that I wouldn’t appreciate any gesture small and sweet or even grand, but … that’s not what I depend on. 

What I depend on are character traits, not gifts. Those sweet gifts are genuinely nice touches, but if I wanted proof I was loved, I’d look in another direction now.

I’m not sure I’d be able to provide a definitive and certain list because we are ever evolving creatures – hopefully.  I’m old enough to be well aware life is not perfect, relationships will always carry disagreements, and sometimes we have to honestly agree to disagree, but at a minimum, I think I would start with these basics:

Loyalty – I expect this from anyone in my love base – family, friends and lovers.

  • He/she has my back, covers me, and for a lover in particular, ‘even when I’m wrong’. Correct me in private, but you better stand by me in the wild west. I heard this statement 3 times from 3 different sources today alone.  I think the angels want me to know something.
  • Would not use our disagreements or me as a foil to make themselves look superior for someone else-ever!
  • Has the capacity to weather rocky storms as well as the play of lighter days. We have enough fair-weather friends in life, wouldn’t appreciate one as a partner. I’d also include facing one’s fears in this.

Cherishes – genuine concern for my well-being. A genuine desire to help me be happy, safe, balanced… which could be sharing housework, or worries, an interest in my day. In general, caring about how my world could be easier or brighter or more fun.

Practises respect & honesty– If what I state I need in a relationship cannot be honestly met, then please be decent enough to stand up to say, sorry no can do.  I would hope they would also stand up for their own needs, even to say they are moving on to find the person that better suits.

And when I’m at my lowest – would not demand that I must meet his/their needs or all the above will disappear, and especially… would not kick me when I am down. Yes, I know this shouldn’t even have to be noted, but man, you’d be surprised. Or, maybe not.

Yes, it goes without saying, this is a two-way street.

Of course, there’s the actual living together side too, the shared experiences and belief systems, humor, politics, desire of service in whatever capacity. shared travel ideals… the list could go on forever, but if we were to apply the basics, we could surely still share a kiss at the end of the day.

Is that too much to ask?

These things I ponder while I meander on the road to recovery from the ‘big ones’.


No Ordinary Love….