Oh Canada Day, my heart is aching and I feel the exact opposite of proud to be Canadian. The horror stories about the behavior of the police toward the people at the G20 keep flooding in and every one gets worse. Video, eye witness accounts, photos. And then I hear the Toronto Police Chief on the radio, pompously justifying the police actions because of the handful of so-called ‘Black Bloc Terrorists’ and their heinous behavior. Not a word, not a hint of apology or admission of any overkill or wrongdoing. I couldn’t believe it, not after what has happened. Do they really think we’re that stupid?

Apparently they do. The police were conspicious by their absence when it came to the vandals. They were allowed (encouraged? Helped?) to smash windows in the downtown financial district and to burn police cars. There was not a hint of police presence or interference in these activities.

How many of these black-clad terrorists were actually undercover police officers? It seems likely that some of them were. This has now become a time honoured police tactic: dress up like the bad guys, do bad guy stuff even if there are no real bad guys around who want to do it in order to get the bystanders fired up and into a mob mentality in order to justify the massive police crackdown that they’ve spent so much money on making possible.

It’s called incitement to riot, wait isn’t that against the law? Ah, you see, the police are allowed to break the law in order to encourage people to break the law so that they can arrest them. It all makes such perfect sense.
Continue reading “canada day 2010: shame, shame, shame”

Been a while since we had a poem. I found this one in a written journal (yes, I still write on paper, it’s my favourite in some ways) from a year or so ago:

Free Will

Breathe your breath, reprieve your death
and choose your pathway through
the evidence of obstacle,
it’s time to find what’s true
You think you can, you know you can,
and then reality
it’s all about the way it seems
that’s not the truth you see

Perception calls the truth to live,
but filters out the same

to know what’s real, and still to feel
is such a painful game

Play your cards although it’s hard,
you’ll know it when it’s real

you’ll know it by the way it seems
and by the way it feels

Please listen to the tiny voice,
it will not comfort you

it tells the truth, it offers choice,
but won’t say what to do

the moment comes, you hear the drums,
they shape reality

but there’s no drummer, no disguise,
and no identity

I think it’s pretty darn cute; it looks a bit like its mother (the old site, here) but way more functional and dynamic. It’s small still, but it’ll grow; my amazingly flexible website software (XSitePro) will allow me to update it easily and often, and as I learn how to use it, I’ll be able to do some more interesting things design-wise.

I’ve timed it to release right around the time of the Capricorn Full Moon (call it an induced labour), because I, astrologer that I am, really like the chart for this Full Moon. My li’l baby website might just grow up to be something really special with a chart like this.

Yeah yeah, I know. It’s just a website. But it’s mine, it’s been a long time coming and I’m as pleased as any new mom.

So with all due “Ta-Daah’s” and “Huzzahs”, and without further ado, here it is!

Cheers and blessings to you all, and to me too
Bee

yep… it’s that time again. Time for a new website, that is. As of tomorrow, I’ll be announcing my new metaphysical arts website. This blog can revert back to its original purpose as a creative writing, crazy poetry, here I am, here’s what I’m thinking and feeling now thing.

With Mars in Gemini, I require an outlet for that brash, brazen, ballsy voice. Gemini is duality; two public identities. I also hold space for my more deeply considered material, my quietly serious voice, which hasn’t felt quite at home here. When I began this blog it was called ‘Truth is a Crazy Poet,’ and that energy has never shifted. I do like it. It’s part of what I am.

In fact, I love it. Just try to make me stop!

But the truth is, it’s not what I really need to be presenting to folk as a reason to trust me with their hearts, which is what my particular line of work mandates.
Continue reading “webcited”

I’ve come to a momentous decision, and it’s been growing in me a long time, since I read ‘The Secret Life of Bees’ a few years ago. Having changed my name once already, I know it’s a big deal, and I apologize in advance for the inconvenience (and it is inconvenient) to my friends and beloveds.

Still, I’ve been Phoenix for a long time now, and there’s a limit to how long anyone can be comfortable as a Phoenix. It’s a turbulent path! Sooner or later, I have to just, well, Bee.

My birth name, Debra, means ‘The Bee’. I’ve always loved that, about as much as I disliked the name itself. Not that it’s a bad name, it’s a fine name! I like it fine on other Debras and Debbies I know. But it happened to be the commonest name for girls in my age group; it felt like a generic name, a non-identifier.
Continue reading “name change”

Down-to-Earth Astrology

The Gulf Oil Volcano packs a heavy emotional wallop for any feeling being; it’s more difficult than ever before to see the bright side and to avoid our fears about the handbasket we seem to be en route to Hell in, dragging whole ecosystems with us.  One way out is through the door we least would choose, painted with letters limned ‘Don’t Go There.’

We all have work to do that we’ve been avoiding; our duty to the planet we are despoiling. Humans have done harm, now humans are called to right it. Yet there seem few practical avenues for outward action. We feel powerless in the face of the global machine.

For now, our real work lies within, to lean our emotional weight to the job of healing the holes in our collective dreamsoul. Not easy, but not un-doable either, if we stay with our bodies and our breath.

Comox Valley June Forecast Continue reading “June forecast”

Some thoughts on the transit of Uranus into Aries, first pass tomorrow:

There are two mutually exclusive, co-existent states of consciousness: Dream and Waking.

Animals are Waking while awake and journey in Dream while asleep. Plants live mostly in Dream; birds, mostly Waking, though both spend periods of time in each state.

In nature, these two realms peacefully co-exist. But with the advent of human consciousness (associated with the sign Aquarius, the Water-Bearer) on Earth, we are creating a new reality here on Earth.

Humans are not like the animals and plants; we have a foot in each world, all the time.

All human art culture is an interweaving of the themes of the Dreaming into Waking reality. The Aquarian archetype suggests that an extra-terrestrial, or galactic consciousness guides humanity, and it would seem that this consciousness has not had the interests of Earth in mind.

So far, the reality we are co-creating has been increasingly Hell-ish, and though we may each find pockets of peace, clarity and abundance of our good (if only at times for some), we cannot truly be a healthy, viable species of life on the planet unless we find a way to co-exist with our fellow creatures in a sustainable way.
Continue reading “here it comes”

“Congratulations, Ms. Wolf-Ray, it’s a brand-new baby song!”

I’ve finally decided that I need to stop taking the song lyrics I write so dang personally. It makes me invalidate and dismiss my material with ‘who do I think I am?’ type thoughts when they come through in this kind of a grandiose, messianic form.

It’s a mystery to me where the idea came from, but it came, and I wrote it, so there it is. I’m not in charge of how my kids turned out, either, but I worked damn hard to bring them forth.

Our Kingdom Come

you don’t have to lecture me
I know what I’m doing
There’s no need to rush me
I’ll get there one day

This ain’t no fairy tale,
and there ain’t no happy ending
no point pretending, everything to see
live for truth, and truth will set you free

I’m a late bloomer, I’m a baby boomer
yeah I heard a rumour we don’t have to die
it’s a hungry season, all for a reason
I don’t need to know, so I ain’t asking why

I’m asking how, I’m asking where,
I’m casting bones, I’m climbing stairs
I’ve been lying low, until the time has come,
it’s in the rhythm, the rhythm of the drum
you know our kingdom will not come
until we’re home

I come from the wilderness, I come from the root
I come bearing fruit, I come in peace
I’m coming home, and home is coming with me,

you don’t have to lecture me
I know what I’m doing
There’s no need to rush me
I’ll get there one day

I’ll show you how, I’ll tell you where,
I’ll be casting bones, I’ll be climbing stairs
I’ll be lying low until my day is due,
it’s in the flavour, the flavour of the stew
and our kingdom will not come
till we come home
oh our kingdom cannot come
until we’re home

I’m a late bloomer, I’m a baby boomer
I heard a rumour we don’t have to die

The Scorpio Moon gave me gifts of poetry and song. These are the lyrics; I’ll be playing it at the Pier next week… – ph

Lyrics updated May 23 (they do evolve!)

Everything That Is

Chorus: everything that is, is real
everything that’s real can feel
everything that is, is right
everything lives in the light

and only when we’re dead do we stop caring
only hearts of stone refuse to share their
abundance with the hungry, we are a single species
everyone belongs equally
chorus:
Continue reading “new song: everything that is”

Here’s a poem for this depth charge Moon, a time when everything we hide from tries to show its face… here’s my personal nemesis, perhaps you recognize it too:

Shyness

Shyness is no joke, it sneaks in and pins you
to the board like a butterfly on exhibit,
inhibits your moves and shrinks your will
stills the flame until you forget your name

Shyness is a virus, passed from observer to observed,
swerves through witness into victim
of merciless perceptions, we watch ourselves,
shelved, packaged and presented for serving

to dragons, the demons of everyone’s denials,
can’t-be’s and has-beens, all waiting for the bucks
to stop here, while we bury ourselves deeper in shed
skin cells, digging a mass grave, save us from ourselves!

Shyness is a virtue, like patience, like chastity,
it serves the agenda of some outside authority
self-designated and never elected, simply present
and accounted for, counting all my costs.

In lieu of rent due, I shall offer my seeds to the
mouths everybody forgot to feed. All those
needy babies are coming home, and they’d
better be fed the love they deserve this time

From the time before time when the big bang
expelled its stuff to fill some kind of void,
we have ever avoided responsibility for this
work, we shirk and shudder and seek to sunder

our bonds, fond though we are of each other,
we can not bear gravity, freedom at all costs,
freedom unto eternity itself, we cry, free me from
This love, this shove into safety from the pit
I moaned and complained to escape!

Free me from my place in the puzzle, my
verse in the song, free me from the tale
I am told in, by a voice not my own, a voice
that blows like the wind and sprinkles

beauty in my mind, free me to find the true self
I am, and become it, simply, simply
I am freed into my place in the puzzle, my verse
In the song, I am freed into the tale I am told in,

By a voice not my own, that blows like the wind
And spreads beauty in my mind, I am free now to find
The true self I am and I become it, simply
and if only, if only

Shyness is no joke, it sneaks in and pins me
to the board like a butterfly on exhibit,
inhibits my every move and shrinks my will
stills the flame until I forget my name