revolution in the air
dictators scramble for their millions
fighting for their lives
against the power of love
love of freedom
love of justice
love of truth
love of self
tunisia, egypt, libya, yemen
children, youth, women and men
siding with humanity
over power and greed
and what of my sisters and brothers
at home?
and what of the masses
jiggly asses
still glued to the lazyboy
glassy eyes flip between
desperate housewives
and desperate 'leaders'
pouring passivity on cornflakes
accepting wild distortions
for truth
murder as defence
corruption as
inevitable
and self as
incapable
of anything but
abject apathy

for ron


darkened garden of moons
wilderness of winding vines
choke out the light today


a wild storm
awaits the rest
shadow and doubt
swirl
in relentless wind


raging thunder
and pounding
rains
against the panes
of our memories


reality molded
re-told
again
and
again
re-membered
re-written


alas,
your troubled heart
finally
in
stillness

wish you dreams of
eternity
nestled between
moments of
insanity
steeped in
passion
danced by
love

i am in a gorgeous storm
holding on
to whatever
passes by

the pull on my cheeks
excites
and
terrifies
me
i want to witness
complete upheaval
of the universe
i accept nothing less
then
i will rest

you ask what we are doing
what is wrong with this picture
and i hear you with sober ears
i fumble for answers
amidst this revolution of
neopostmodern, prefeminist, neandrathal activism
the cauldron boils
which, (let's agree)
is what we want
a boiling cauldron is
the perfect place to begin
any revolution

and what if we cast ourselves
as wizards
of this great stew
what if we unfold
that which
has never been
seen

embrace this new dance
and whirl
with reckless
abandon

the root of life
surely suckles love
i stand
barefoot
and let the surge
overcome
what is left
of me
infinity wraps itself
against my body
i am pulled
up and down
in and out
remembering where i came from

brilliant crescent moon
nestles her baby in her breast
look if you don't believe
she is a harbinger of hope
while we sweep out our
innards
she suckles
and waits
while we wallow
in our shit
while our skin is lacerated
by the steely blade
of uncertainty
while suburbia
perches
on the edge of madness

she watches

while we kill the children
and rape their mothers
while we send soldiers
to set fires
while we plug in to
alternate reality

she is patient
she knows
time stops when we become
givers of life
open to receive
womb of desire
her beauty and her song
are silent reminders
of the exquisite grace
and eternity
inside

the question is always
what lays beyond

my life is a garden of wildflowers
to tend and admire and love
you are indian paintbrush
stroking the sky with waves of colour
as you reach and stretch and dream
born from the ashes of the earth
to be wild and beautiful and free

so quick the return to old patterns
i reach for you
to sink into the warmth
of your pores
your breath
guiding me gently
back to dreamland
back home
stirrings in my bones
as the serpent longs
to unleash
for now content with
sweet memories
of loving joy
i will gather you into my mind
third eye looking out across
heavy spring clouds
and follow the sound of
my soul

surge through life
find your spirit souls
dance wildly
and never doubt

through each gentle snowflake
between icy layers
and stale memories
inside the wrath of each storm
that pierces the night sky
beyond the mountain of sorrow
heavy burden of earth
the lush valley grows
anyway

sitting in the beautiful sunlight of madrid, steeped in deep conversation about this dynamic, evolving world, images of the struggle pass through my wandering mind. I have seen children and youth chanting, leading, cheering, crying, hugging, suffering. I sat at the dinner table with Tunisians and Egyptians whose eyes light up when they tell me how proud they are of their people. When my Tunisian friend touched down in his country he said he felt like his head was being pulled out of a bucket of water. Like he could breathe again. My Egyptian friend joined the rally for Egypt in Madrid, proudly and loudly and said for the first time he was proud of his country.

People are rising. Women are claiming their power, youth are daring to dream and children are laughing. People are also dying and suffering and fighting for their rights. As I glue myself to my computer screen I challenge myself to use my own power and resources to support change. Real, sustained change. I know, and there is no turning back, that love, and freedom of all to love and live without oppression is what we must fight for. Today I attend meetings to send a Canadian boat with the International Freedom Flotilla Two, with the goal of BREAKING THE ILLEGAL AND INHUMAN SEIGE OF GAZA. Tomorrow, I will ask you to join me.

when you don't know
when your thoughts are filled
with the lostness of the universe
the only answer
is to ask a child

to sit and watch silently
the playful glamour of their
bountiful expression
is enough to thwart all
feelings of rebellion

i need your help
these meetings might kill me
i don't see the world the same way
i don't see borders and nations
walls and regimes
their solutions to political problems
will only bring the same
i see new power
emerging
emanating and pulsing
yet so diffuse
it's hard to connect
but i feel it, it's there
i know i'm here to push them forward
but they yank me back
at every turn
again and again
i won't let them have me
i won't let them off the hook