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JoeC's Blog Spot

JoeC's original poetry and photos about life and all things under the sun.

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Sunday, February 18, 2018



Reflected by your eyes,
All the green of the earth,
Reflected by your hands,
All the blessed rain that falls,
Reflected by your face,
All that precious life provides,
Reflected by your feet,
All those difficulties you must overcome,
Reflected by your words,
All the love and hardships you have endured,
Reflected by your mind,
All the fishes in the diverse sea,
Reflected by your divine soul,
All those generous gifts God blessed humankind with.

The King has taken away our thirst,
And now we have nothing to drink,
The King has taken away our hunger,
And now we are empty with nothing to eat,
The King has taken away all our loneliness,
And now there is no joy or happiness in our hearts,
The King has taken away our pain,
And now we are destitute and homeless under the doubting sky,
The King has taken away our angst,
And now we feel nothing because we are all dead inside,
The King has taken away those many barriers in our lives,
And now there is no freedom in our country,
The King has taken away all the chains that shackled us,
And now all our hope lays buried deep in the fragrant earth.

Saturday, February 17, 2018




There's an old man,
Sitting in my paltry shack,
With garbled tears streaming,
Down his weathered wrinkled face,
He sits beside me sometimes,
Astride me with his crinkled lines,

Even dwelling inside me,
Writing cankerous poetry,
Singing ardent love songs,
Clearly thinking in cryptic rhymes.
I wonder as I watch and listen,
If he'll even wink or nod or ever say hello,
Or if someday I'll turn to see him wave goodbye,
Disappear in time like all my burning dreams,
Evaporate like molecules of dried up steam,
Escape like a final dying breath,

Vanish like an unheard scream.
Still I wonder if he's ever truly here,
Or is that odd old man,
Just another fragile thought,
Just a reckless daydream,
That doesn't really see or hear,
A writhing fantasy,
So it sometimes seems,
Just another painful moan,
Another sorrowful sigh,
Just another fleeting figment,
Just another lonely lie.

Friday, February 16, 2018



If it wasn't for the music . . .
If it wasn't for the rain . . .
What would be the use . . .
Of all this earthly refrain . . .
If it wasn't for the sun . . .
If it wasn't for the moon . . .
Where would planet earth be . . .
Or would it be the same . . .
If it wasn't for all our dreams . . .
If it wasn't for love and joy . . .
Who would ever live here . . .
Would heaven be somewhere . . .
Or would God just be annoyed . . .
If it isn't for compassion . . .
Would birds still fly and sing . . .
Before dirty oil . . .
Weren't people still employed . . .
Wasn't there economy . . .
Wasn't there good life . . .
Or are we meant to survive this modern foil . . .
As we witness Gaia's strife . . .

Thursday, February 15, 2018



Tears in My Eyes

Dust to dust,
Salt of the earth,
Such deep oceans,
Like turmeric and beet juice,
Staining my hair and colouring my face,
Life reflected in our pigmented eyes,
In God's mystical light,
Such glorious harmonies to be heard,
If only we would listen,
If only we would love,
If only there were abundant fish to eat,
Sweet rice to fill our empty bellies,
Like a lover's tender kiss,

Nurturing us on a moonlit night,
So many bright stars twinkling high above,
So many cherished dead buried below,
All those strong currents and tides and storms,
Trying to wash away all the hate in the world,
Trying to give righteousness a foothold,
Trying to let divine light enter every crack,
Before the last spark goes out,
Before the Sun is forever extinguished,
Before brother kills brother,

Before nation destroys nation,
Before all the sacred mountains tumble,

Remorseful and broken into the raging sea,
Before the Universe betrays all its faithful galaxies,
Before God whispers one final prayer,
Before we wish we would have loyally listened,
To what the colours of the expectant wind,

Was so anxious to tell us.

Wednesday, February 14, 2018




Your accent betrays you,
Blending all your black and white words,
Betraying truth that justice bends,
Tunneling past grey syllables,
Subtly divided by a worrisome two edged sword,
Past all those tinted things that appear orange and blue,
Funneling past all those tainted things that awake in a purple hue,
Rescinding all the brown and jungle green,
Reminding rainbows of all the colours of the wind.

Even enlightened men can be fools,
When the black snake comes,
Stand up and fight back,
Hey Hey, Hey Hey, Hey Hey!
Eagle feathers fluttering in the wind,
When does the world take notice?
All these roots and herbs and good medicine,
All that Wakantanka shared with us two-leggeds,
All that the great mystery has generously divulged,
All that earth justice firmly demands,
Hey Hey, Hey Hey, Hey Hey!
All that human kind requires in a healthy land.

Protecting water and soil and air,
All those things Sacred and Holy,
Hey Hey, Hey Hey, Hey Hey!
Understand that when the world disappears,
It will be gone forever,
So the soaring Phoenix truly fears,
When all good is destroyed,
Everything will turn to blackness,
All things will dematerialize into black snake's bottomless pit,

Everything will vanish into that viper's den,
Believe the rising Thunderbird then,
Reminding us there is no escape from it.

When Sioux women pushed their bone awls,
Deep into Custer's deaf ears,
Thinking maybe yellow-hair would finally hear,
Maybe demented man would understand,
Sacred is Holy as Holy Sacred Ground,
And Holy Sacred Water,
And Holy Sacred Soil,
And Holy Sacred Air,
And Holy Sacred Mother Earth,
Maybe then all those deaf greedy people,
Maybe then they will see the Light,
Maybe then they will finally understand,
If we don't take care of our Grandmothers and Grandfathers,
If we don't take care of our buried dead,
If we don't take care of our Sacred Holy Land,
If we don't take care of our Sacred Holy Water and Air,
If we don't take care of our Sacred Holy Rivers and Seas and Skies,
If we don't take care of our Sacred Holy Mother Earth,
Then all will surely be lost,
All will surely be gone,
All will be black,
All will become nothing,
And our Creator will laugh and laugh and laugh,
Knowing how our foolish accents,
Knowing how all our corrupt colours and creeds,
Knowing that dinosaurs have risen from the dead,
Reincarnating as stinking black crude and thick toxic bitumen,
Knowing that mindless humankind's utter disrespect,
Has devoured all the good on the planet,
Has fractured the world into oblivion with the devil,
Knowing that is the reason why we shall finally perish,
Swallowed by all our worldly sin and incarnate evil,
Hey Hey, Hey Hey, Hey Hey!
Dined upon by the blind and deaf and dumb,
Led us to this crooked destruction,
Betrayed by heartless cannibals and beasts,
Hey Hey, Hey Hey, Hey Hey!
Swallowed by the conniving black snake,
Wrapped and bound in black snake's delusion feast.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018



We've all lost children,
I know what it's like to lay by the woman you love,
Feeling truly happy,
Kerouac, Russell, Atwood,
So many tears on a page,
Kale and carrots and squash,
So many seeds planted in fertile soil,
All our dead children,
Leaving us crying and grieving,
Language into odes and poems,
Nations into countries,
All those deep oceans on this significant blue planet,
Belgrade and Paris and London and Baghdad,
Dying of thirst in shifting desert sands,
Perched like terrorized authors,
Atop desolate skyscrapers,
Lonely words pouring down from perilous heights,
Jamieson, Ibsen, Wu Cheng'en,
Beaten into submission,
All the skin torn away,
Exposing sinew and bone,
Raw sunlight streaming into darkness,
Lava screaming over bleeding hearts and lost souls,
Erickson, Solzhenitsyn, Tomlinson,
Beating on barred and battered doors,
Waiting for rich heaven to reach down,
Lift up our prodigal human spirit,
Gain a reckless foothold in the tiniest crevasse,
Kierkegaard, Krishnamurti, Confucius,
Perhaps on this barren moonscape,
If we all pray,
If we all hope,
Socrates, Nietzche, Plato,
If we all get up off the right side of bed,
Raise our left hand so we blink,
Open our third eye,
Speak in castle tones,
Maybe all those barbarian barricades,
Maybe all those cruel ramparts,
Will ultimately shift and fall,
Lift in bits and pieces like a transcendental mist,
Allowing us to rise into a blessed space,
Where Angels will comfort us,
Where God shall meet us,
Treating us all as one,
Inviting us into a Holy fold,
Where light and joy and happiness,
Where sacredness can heal us,

Gathering once again with our dead children,
Reminding us we are truly loved.

Saturday, February 10, 2018



Tears will never be enough . . .
Broken me . . . broken you . . .
Dreaming about an unbroken world . . .
Imagine us wandering . . . mingling with those unbroken few . . .
Take what you want . . . leave the rest . . .
If it weren't for the stars . . . and all our cosmic dreams . . .
Where would we be . . . who could ever guess . . .
Where enchanted heaven begins . . .
Where would human being end . . .
Could we ever be forgiven our loveless sins . . .
I'm nothing but a shadow in the forest . . .
Nothing but a breath of sapient breeze . . . or so it seems . . .
But then who would ever truly care . . .
Don't search for me because you won't find me there . . .
I'm not really anything at all . . . just a figment . . .
Splendidly grafted with the perfumed air . . .
Just a faded pigment . . .  like a stigmatized umbra on a fractured wall . . .
Through the mystic wood . . . down to the enchanted pond . . .
In search of musing swans . . . and other fleeting joy . . .
That amphibious spellbound place . . .
Where ethereal mist lifts skyward through curling fragile fronds . . .
Rising electrified in the whistling air . . .  like the majesty of trumpeting swans . . .
Mystifying every eclectic part . . . perhaps coy happiness in kind . . .
Burning in every beating heart . . . meeting every yearning soul . . .
Of each starry-eyed girl . . .
Of every dreaming boy . . .
Mesmerized perhaps we find . . . waking along that accomplished line . . .
Perhaps in fateful time . . . a measure of divinity and perfection . . .
Curiously wading that miraculous unbroken shoal . . .