In Words and Pictures

little sayings about Enormous things 

Contact meBuy prints

Good News!

The bad news is nothing lasts forever, The good news is nothing lasts forever. - J. Cole.

Feeling mighty fine,

good news arrived.

Naysay all that I may

but it's just a shuck n jive.

You know, all that distracting talk

and meaningless chitter-chatter-squawk.

I think I'll keep swimming,

in the substance of dreams.

My good fortune's brimming,

my cup runneth over it seems.

Kind and Gentle

The heart

just wants to feel,

it cares not

whether its good or bad,

and the frail human ego,

has made it very easy

to feel mad or sad.

So she set out,

with her good

nature and intentions,

to create a world

of kind and gentle,

focusing her energies

and attentions

both emotional and mental.


she sharpened her

hidden spiritual senses,

dropping the

things that built up

her worldly defenses.

Wise beyond her years 

she noticed in a thought,

as kind and gentle appears,

she cannot be sold or bought,

but opens new frontiers

in her struggles, long fought.

In the nulling

of past hates and fears,

she found kind and gentle

was no weakness, as she was taught.

It was ascension in spiral tiers,

which swept her away when

she was caught.

The present is mine

The present is mine

That which

I know is mine,

I have known

for a very long time,

and from the very

depths of my own being,

comes the pulls and tugs,

always guaranteeing,

the essence of what I am,

is what I’m living and seeing.

The ancients knew,

that it is

only in the present

that life expresses,

and it is only the present

that anyone possesses.

The present

does not fade

into the past,

but rather advances

into the future

to meet us.

Then, choose wisely,

be you filled with love,

good fortune, or animus.

The Dreams I have

Those countless dreams

and imaginings,

imparting my nature

every day and night,

in my habits and circumstance,

awakened one day in the light.

and in the clearing

came the way

wrapped up in an ideal

for in the end,

my life really does depend,

on what I feel as real.

So, the dreams

I have and imagine

to come true,

if I, feel it real too,

then good or bad,

they will and Do.

#Dreams #love #spiritual #poetry #painting

The fall of an empire 

the flag’s tattered threads 

well worn,

as democracy shreds 

and be torn. 

Watching history repeat, 

where all empires fall, 

especially as 'humanity's defeat' 

is a manner of perversion, 

plaguing people and land, 

replacing principle 

with dogma 

and immersion 

in symbols and slogans 

so readily at hand. 


by greed and lies, 

that are normalized, 

leaders and institutions 

made up of 

heartless/souless ghouls, 

in charge 

of all the rules, 

exhibits abhorrent behavior 

while being deified by 

a minority populace 

as some kind of religious savior. 

And when 

a great nation 

has become 

unkind, false, 

shallow and corrupt, 

it is 

the very worst of society; 

a laughable, 

reality TV Show - 

and that's when 

you know, 

that Show’s 

had its run

and now its 

Over and Done.

Mighty Creators

The fall of an empirethe flag's tattered threadswell worn,as democracy shredsand be torn.Watching history repeat,where all empires fall,especially as 'humanity's defeat'is a manner of perversion,pl...

With Grass and flowers

With the Grasses and flowers
I bent down
to be closer,
closer to the ground.
Then I sat in the grass,
amongst the flowers,
focusing on life’s
wonderful mystical powers.
My attention centered
in both heart and mind,
was a valid say,
which inspires
imagination’s motion,
and brought about a day,
both gentle and kind,
with a reddish,
blue-green sky
and salty spray from
the far-away ocean.
The truth took hold
and began to unfold,
in a most natural way.
I’m not running hot or cold,
because my experience today
shows, that awareness
is the potter’s clay,
and feeling 'natural' is the mold.
the grasses and flowers
were talking to me
about their traditions
and experiences
in the great mystery.
And on this
beautifully designed,
sunny afternoon,
I was given a truth,
that my logical mind
could no longer impugn.
It was all so real,
with color, smell,
taste, sound and feel,
that there can be no appeal
by those that are
For the truth is,
it's imagination that,
makes the world go round.

The Cottonwood Tree has fallen.

That big, old,
cottonwood tree,
has fallen
in the wind.
Up-rooted when
tornados came call'n,
as mighty as
it may have been.

It leaned much
too far over the house,
since before I moved in,
20 years ago,
and although,
I was warned it
threatened to fall,
I would not let them
cut it down,
and lose its connection
to the all.

In late Spring,
it would yield its
generous seed,
and for days upon days,
like a snowstorm,
they were dancing in the air.
Any malaise,
would surely transform,
as white angel cotton wings,
were flying everywhere.

And when the great tree
was finally taken
by the winds,
it remembered and knew
not to fall on the house,
as it was so perfectly
positioned to do,
instead, when it fell,
it fell, exactly parallel.

I placed tobacco and sage
on my sacred
and fallen friend.
I thanked her
and said a prayer,
"I know that you heard
what I intend.
I will miss seeing
and being with you
dancing in the air".

There is always magic in the ordinary.
The Cottonwood Tree is very sacred to Native American spirituality, culture and ceremony. The Sun Dance is performed using a Cottonwood Tree as the centering pole, and the young sapling cottonwoods are used to build their Sweat lodges used for ceremony, purification, prayer and visioning-

Songbird in my head

Birth of a songstress

In a drowsy haze, 

she plainly heard,

what sounded to her             

like a songbird.

That melodic cadence

broke the singularity of time,

while her attendant thoughts 

offered a paradigm.

The sound was ringing

all inside of her head,

so she just started singing

what she heard instead.

"I must sing.

I gotta  sing 

what I heard in my head,

from that little songbird”

she melodically said.    

#songbird #poetry #painting #spiritual #love

Where is thelove


I just want to

close my eyes 

and go to sleep,

and hide from

what all the world

wants me to keep.

But then I remember love

and how wonderful it is.  

All of the colors, 

the sounds and fragrances. 

I look deep into your soul

to see our sustaining connection,  

for in that moment,

I touch the mystical whole 

of love's sacred reflection.

Where is the love?

he asks,

here it is, 

right here,

hiding just 

behind your fear.

#love #fear #spiritual #painting #poetry

My impish little boy

A  knowing smile, 

half up-turning his face, 

a wink in his eye, 

wafts sweet fragrance  

all over the place. 

He had a 

rascally confidence, 

a playful expression of 

innocence and joy, 

boldly revealing a  


loving countenance. 

That’s my impishly 

handsome, little boy! 

The Painter


gloriously entwined  

with canvas, fingers 

and face, 

mingling but not combined, 

leaving a visible trace,

all over the place. 

He plunged into, 

the truth of everything,  

contemplating his painting 

and the words he wrote. 

He’s been reacquainting  

to the harmonies of 

an ethereal note. 

The secret is not 

the face you wear,  

nor the feats you dare.  

Its not what you say    

or even what you do.   

Its that life always draws 

out of the deep in you, 

and plays a spiritual cause 

for every natural effect.  

He wonders what’s 

to be made 

of the fixity of these  

up-side-down laws,    

in this world 

we inwardly reflect. 

#painter #spiritual #senses #poetry #love

How I love those

in-between times,

when life is unhurried.

Absent are

most of the things

that make me

feel worried.

Every moment

is mine,

and the present is

the only

important time.

- so I asked,

“Why can’t it always be

this free and easy?”

but it didn’t feel

like the real deal

so I asked

a different question,

- just because…

“Why is it always

this free and easy?”

- and then, it was…


I imagine 

and live 

the ‘what’, 

of those happy 

and sad endings 

to the dreams 

I choose to occupy. 

But what of all the 

middles and in-betweens, 

in my mystically 

awakened lullaby. 

Life’s adventure  

unfolds as the journey 

of 'how'.   

It can not be known, 

except in the now. 

Looking back,  

it never happens 

as I thought it would,   

although with certainty,

we really want to know. 

But knowing, is, 

just not to be had, 

for it is the purview 

of above and below,

and we can neither,

subtract or add. 

Let me be love

Here and now,

in this place,

I am just a collage,

an ever-changing host

for the colorful array

of my imaginings,

and the body

for the vast collection,

of every one of my

thoughts and feelings.

I act and react,

by my rememberings,

and express views

tinted by the backstory

of my worldly dealings.

Effortlessly donning

unique motifs,

my life is an amalgam

of the totality of my beliefs.

And I can only see

what I let in

through senses

that are highly attuned to

my inner patterns.

Filtering all that I have

ever been,

and stored away,

in the dark of my

terrestrial caverns.

If it is true,

that I am the whole

of my ways and means,

then let me choose wisely,

and rise above,

and let me,

now, and forevermore,

divinely be,


a bunch of wild flowers


How lovely is her hair, 

as it tangles and dangles, 

in a bunch of wild flowers 

she gathered there 

whiling away the hours. 

Held so close to her heart,  

she feels their sacred powers,  

whose pedals nuzzle her cheek 

with every breath she takes.  

An intoxicating fragrance   

deliriously lifts her 

into loving states,  

where every moment is unique

and has its own adoring mystique

in what it creates.  

They speak to her 

as on the wind,  

a gentle whisper in her ear. 

She speaks to them 

in an unfamiliar tone,   

a surprisingly present known 

of ‘now and here'.