Our Orbit


We awake

In the evening of our sleep

And this twilight is bright

But confused in muddled mind


My soul’s eyes look far

To capture visions scope

Tattered sheaves of yesterday

Stacked in hungry bind


We breathe in hesitant vapours

And withdraw out of our chamber

Sucking like a newborn baby

between hope and fear so bottled


a first day, once again

we prepare to run and leap

rejoicing in noon’s blaring shadows

and a hundred voices so mottled


a dexterity of yes’s and no’s

many voices of unwelcome

learning patience and forgiveness

and laughing at futility


‘Tis of human life we weep?

Our pulses in trying steady

Seeking midnight’s peace

it’s loneliness and purity


what is our moon?

So bright and sharp in crescent

Is it a foreign lens, far above

Or our heart of teasing face


The stars are attracted to this realm

And when the beauty of our earthly day is gone

We see this constellation

Our neighbourhood of grace


The clouds are sneaky passengers

An entrance so benign

Imposing chances of grey or black

for our thunderous minds of wary


but can we reflect this parade

of light and dark so blatant?

With our imaginations freedom

To see the day contrary


An urgent shift or cautious turn

Our eyes widening in planet

Imposing a why not theory

With modest laughter in its hold


There are no perils of night and day

And no name given to the time

We ponder this spinning miracle

Being neither young or old


DeaBeePea 11-21-18



She looketh over the skin

So onioned of time

Brown and flimsy

Are the words as such?


Is it still strong and deep?

The hard breaths still heard

Or just a written page

And thus has said not much


The blush still within

A silent chuckle can be heard

As suddenly tired eyes

Hesitate in useless time


No reason to weep

Just listen to the music

As it flutters the lonely page

A weak and hopeless rhyme


Those melodies of the heart

Do not sing but wail

Is it anger or love?

So invisible is the flare


Touching this note

Makes the fingers shake

A fear to crumble

What heart is left to share


Her feeble murmur

Not a cry but awestruck mutter

Amazed at this utter confusion

Echoes; they refuse to calm


Is this a treasure?

Born from another

Someone lost or gone

of unrecognizable palm


Those prayers unanswered

And now a lonely visage

An old world now meaningless

or inconvenient in its smile


will an interruption be

A place to rescue the heart

Coming now or soon

On the clock’s unrelenting dial


A decision has been made

She speaks; Take him into me

Resolve my inner quake

Disregard my current play


Life begins anew

I pang in bittersweet lust

Is this a desperate plunge

Or a forever freedom’s flay?


DeaBeePea 11-15-18



Whose is the speech?

Seeping from the purest blanket

Spinning from the whitest bark

As the northern wind does cry


Is it the voice of me

A poet of the sun

Happy for this wintry blast

This joyous birth not die


Or is the other penman

Strong and silent in doom

Shivering in his heart

Dumb in mortal fear


These gales strike us

In unplanned time

From the darkest hills

And valleys clear


Memories of duality

In duration, soul over soul

Patting down sodden leaves

waiting to rise from past


Promises intertwined

Hence; No warning is needed

The hours retrieve truth

Forever it to last


We cannot deny

This duality

That we see as comical

Or confusing in its verse


Memories beset in love

Or unexpected hate

Articulated by our passion

Carried in our slapping purse


Tapping our skin

That echoes our aging refrain

Separating us from ourselves

In solitary song


The dissonance is loud

The ricochet is uncontrolled

Branch to branch, ear to ear

Activating a piper’s throng


I take recourse

And make diary of this enigma

Answering questions unanswerable

Is it I that now speak?


The path I take now

Not so worn, I am alarmed

An impatient guest am I

Holding back frustration’s screak


DeaBeePea 11-15-18


After reading some poetry by the wonderful Alice Meynell I was inspired to write this.

Our Place


The world has outlived all its passion,

Or am I blasé

I fear this inanity

In superfluous play

But certainly, this is not so!

My heart has not drowned

The sun shines for me

Amidst the darkest clay

keeping the water seeping

through my questioning soul

men ploughing in hope

women unpuppeting their steps

Is life such a farce

A comedy of errors?

Or just a stumble from toes

Calloused in schlep

Vanity and pride

Great loves and faiths

Down-trodden and torn

In a humility’s defeat

But this meekness can conquer

Seeking new mates

Whether of romance

Or labours discrete

Is Romeo’s flippant emotion

Paled in our memory?

Juliet’s devotion so spoiled

Growing dim in our obsolescence

We grab for that cup of gold

Boasting of our favours

Awaiting reward

Over our neighbours fence

We laugh over our ale

And wine is poured

Celebrating survival

And its teasing story

We clamour not

For deaths signal

Our awareness lingers

In current glory

Our over-taught brains

Not loosening with time

Unless we perplex

With imagination’s words

So we twist and turn

And love in maddening passion

This is human goodness

In thundering herds


DeaBeePea 11-13-18



A November snow is falling

The sky apart in morn

Small planets

Kissing the earth in greeting

There is no wind

Is this a gentle hello?

Peace and wonder floating

Sadness now is fleeting

No seasons neglected

This is a circle of life

The mountains looking down

Their shadow a generous cast

The eyes of roots looking up

At this white dust so pure

Filling the crevices of doubt

The buried fears amassed

The moon and sun are brothers

Spectators of this cover

Tenderness creeping over grass

As scattered light does search

This blanket a protective bed

No sound of angry voice

Have the flocks strayed away

And left this lonely birch?

When snow slid from an overweighted leaf

The spirit of a bird of past

These fluffy wings

Whirring with its winter feathers

Frozen nests await

A season's softening song

As a horizon howl is heard

The dogs in teasing blether

Silhouettes with melody

Singing heaven’s promise

Thankful for this miracle’s blessing

Coats to warm their hope

The thatching of the white

As flickering fires in flame

Blend with evening stories

As dreams and prayers elope

The breath is seen rising

To skies of changing colour

Disappearing into future’s fate

The daughter of infinite love

The month still lingers

As stillness plays in hours

Knowing of coming storms

Watched over by the dove


DeaBeePea 11-9-18

My Echo


there is no silence

and I am not even sure if I spoke

the echo keeps coming

in its chameleon cloak


the format of a dream

in the sunlight of day

teasing me with irony

as if I'm innocent prey


the message not clear

pounding me with tears

taunting my conscience

with embellished fears


there follows a laughter

from out of the blue

a nervous nagging

confusing my cue


is this a warning

of future's path

or guilt of the past

and uncured wrath?


the voice is clear

less garbled than my words

spraying its spectrum

like a chorus of birds


is it an invasion

or an offering of Paradise

showing me light

with horizon's advice


I will never be free

of this God-given call

as it scatters its leaves

in effortless fall


when the dream floats by

in blackness' robe

it conjures morning

in priceless probe


I speak and write

awaiting the rocks

to answer my questions

with infinite clocks


pulse for pulse, breath for breath

you are invited

blowing your wise wind

my relevance now sighted


I accept you now

in maturity's place

tolerant and humble

in my limited grace


DeaBeePea 11-8-18

They are Home


tattered tennis balls

and mounds of stuffing

squeals and shrieks

the puppies are roughing


squeaky toys destroyed

artificial flowers hewn

streaks of vomit

and paper strewn


noses in air

demanding their share

when I am cooking

to enjoy my fare


let everything fall

to the floor I say

they'll clean it up

in their licking play


they cover the bed

no room for my feet

in snoring imposition

they hog my sheets


they know when it's dinner

they have an inner alarm

so I have to be ready

in my teeth-clenching swarm


time for a walk

with leashes all tangled

with scooper in hand

on this asphalt wrangle


there are times of peace

and they are relished

it's quite a story

no need to embellish


DeaBeePea 11-8-18



the leaves are falling

and so are my pants

with the musical trees

I shall perform a dance


DeaBeePea 11-6-18



the house is asleep

yet vulnerability cries

darkness bursting its skin

the blackness never dies


invisible clouds with eyes

dreaded winds look down

on murmuring trees

the roof is yet a clown


between the walls is hope

a warm and softened floor

the hearth is smiling peacefully

and the lamp looks through the door


where is the anger?

from outside in the competing stars

or simmering in our sleep

the headboard's prisoning bars


is this tricky peacefulness a warning?

the shingles slowly peeling

and a crumbling chimney

to send my heart kneeling


whose tracks are on my planks?

the gentle angel's feet

or a sinister toe of fate

with fingers of coldest heat


Is love open to the pane?

that refuses to shut its glass

sadness lurking so fragile

in cautious fearful chasse


faith waning in the blanket

as dark as evening's glare

dreams rescuing the doubt

with imagination's flaming flare


when morning comes, it is wisdom

gathered in restless sleep

as we go to conquer life

guarded by what we reap


DeaBeePea 11-6-18



what a cool word

it sounds so sophisticated

and what it means

depicts various scenes


lacking money

that's no big deal

I'm very comfortable

with a means so conformable


void of humour

now that would be death

no self-deprication

now that would be a horrid vacation


lacking booze

another tragedy

I'd be spittin' cotton

and feel totally rotten


without someone to love

yes, that would be sad

but I'd always have me

someone called DeaBeePea


without shelter

well, that would be a fix

how to survive in the cold

on an open windy wold


not having a library

to ponder every day

I'd have to watch TV

what hell that would be


no food the most delectable

I'd be chewing on my thoughts

I'd lose a little weight

but what would be my fate?


without the capacity to write

these silly little poems

I'd have to keep it all inside

my mind would be my bide


DeaBeePea 11-5-18



a donut craving

is not worth saving

they're not as good as rolls

and they're full of holes


television can be addictive

and the endings are predictive

but when the golden oldies are on

I might stay up till dawn


I try to draw

but I think it's that last straw

I can't draw a square

or a rotten pear


asparagus is unusual

it is very strange fuel

it makes my urine green

and the smell is obscene


it don't mean a thing

if it ain't got that swing

it's a jitterbug crave

that my ancestors gave


elections come and go

but I'm in the throe

it never gets better

it's a political fetter


what is sleep?

but an unconscious leap

into a frightening nightmare

of a rejecting affair


if I am dead

I'm in rather good stead

my mind is clear

and I'm full of good cheer


they're giving beer funny names

and making unique claims

strange additives and hops

let's pull out the mops


it is quiet out now

I think of pigeons and cows

of silent mooing

and undetectable cooing


my mind is fractured

ideas no longer captured

it could be quitting time

as I run out of rhyme


So I bid you good night

from my writer's plight

sweet dreams my friends

as my stories end


DeaBeePea 11-5-18

Midterm Blues


don't you leave me

forever my sanity

as the winds that blow

are carrying vanity


give me hope

and cancel my fears

and hope that votes

accompany the jeers


he says it's a big one

well, that is for certain

the chords are minor

through that idiotic curtain


representing who

in global warmings doubters

and populism

and its ignorant flouters


political news

manipulated by fox

and a den of wolves

in their antiquated box


there could be a standoff

to tighten the strings

leaving room for revolution

from outside the rings


some blockheads ahead

by a few percentage points

with two days to go

before they anoint


many people ask

does it matter

but I can assure you

there is meaning to the clatter


I understand cynicism

it has been well earned

but we must bury the asshole

as my stomach churns


things are looking up

at least a bit

but I don't those multitudes

that prefer the nits


I'm not holding my breath

but I'll keep one eye

on Tuesday's results

preparing for sigh


it's a referendum of sorts

of what is the comfort zone

the dumbing of America

and that piggish drone


DeaBeePea 11-4-18

Poetic Political Commentary That Makes Little Sense... Therefore Appropriate


voting and polls and bullshit goals

piles of crap and numerous saps

freedom of speech discounted in breach

north or south, it's all the same mouth


below there is Trump as dumb as a stump

and above is Ford and his sinister hoard

blaming the past and evasively fast

screwing us all without even a call


global warming and its threatening storming

being refuted, the message muted

the truth is feared as people are steered

by populist lies and partisan cries


why don't we dare to support those who care

a humanist theme that casts a warm beam

if we believe what is false and that vocal waltz

why not believe what is true and avoid our stew?


we are basically the same in our funny game

trying to survive amidst our strive

we vary in ability and emotional stability

but what the hell we've heard the knell


I'm shaking my head as I lie in bed

sick of the babble an unruly scrabble

but the music must be faced as we are all disgraced

revolution is in the books, untender hooks


DeaBeePea 11-4-18

Nonsense II


adding a dash oh what a splash

apron streaks from my splattering dekes

dodging burns and crumbly ferns

beside me the tart in uninhibited fart


poisonous gas is of our mass

poorly dispensed with little expense

grease and oil preventing the spoil

hollandaise sauce and a salad tossed


my nerves not grated so cheesily stated

in a parmesan tone and meddlesome bones

filleted humour in a mercury rumour

don't think of that you hungry cat


dill weed and wine and tomats from the vine

dirty pots and seasoned thoughts

cleaning after in a mindful rafter

the party if first with my gluttonous thirst


so intense this recreational fence

a darting lunge of gastronomical plunge

advancing with vigour in unstoppable rigour

where's my drink, did it fall in the sink?


cookbooks and Google no need to be frugal

if Cognac is needed, it shall be heeded

which plate which fork? how done is the pork

more questions than answers, holding my slicing lancers


my reputation burnt, and I wish it weren't

but I cover my ass with gourmet class

I have desserted my post and ignored the roast

cheers my friend, this is the end


DeaBeePea 11-5-18



Drippity mud oh what a thud

All that crap, turn on the tap

Endless ravioli and all the guacamole

Wine is flowing and faces glowing


Party on and last till dawn

Yell and scream in your tasteless dream

Get off Facebook before you look

Too many friends as the laughing ends


Leaves in a pile raking in style

Pissing in the woods because I could

Walking dogs, spying on ground hogs

Losing perspective with little objective


Not knowing the time or the right rhyme

Sour grapes and unplayable tapes

Those halcyon days of hairy plays

Sexual naivete confidence at bay


Tomorrow is Friday what can I say

It means very little in my foolish spittle

The internet is down, now I’m a clown

What’s the score, I don’t care anymore


A reason to write in laughable plight

Thinking I’m great on weak ice I skate

I think he’s a jerk, he’s no Capt. Kirk

Pointed ears and meaningless tears


I might die someday as I play in the hay

Heaven or hell I’m ringing that bell

I don’t really give a shit in this bottomless pit

Goodbye for now you silly cow


DeaBeePea 11-1-18

Magic Heart (a feminist essay)


so many

have that magic heart

that disposes of thought

fearing the part


of, hate and love

embroiled in a stew

but conscience calls

and expectations are due


that nurturing hair

brushed with care

and the dress of white

avoiding the glare


listening to sorry

with a dutiful ear

and thinking of how

to fix this uncheer


having the mind

this envelope ignored

not wanting to unseal

for its insecurity stored


but the heart speaks opposed

listening to this tirade

specific in its pitifulness

temporarily forbade


remembering that motto

of being behind

every great man

the credit unsigned


yet not taking advantage

of the underestimate

of a women's power

and her passionate spate


looking in the mirror

do you see the wise?

or the aging mistake

of misjudgments guise


time is eternal

but our pardon is not

and the banners must wave

to refresh the rot


the players must be interviewed

to qualify their propose

checked at the door

for their egotistical clothes


it cannot be a takeover

but a negotiated truce

an unnatural challenge

for those on the loose


DeaBeePea 10-30-18



don't take this for an answer

the bullies must have their day

you've been raised on bullshit

and not been allowed to play


the rules have been rigged

the mongers are ruling

and capitalism as grown

to diamond banjos dueling


nothing will pass

it will be forever

unless the ship is overturned

as we sink the Endeavor


patience no virtue

and diplomacy not cautious

to rise in courage

in a creative raucous


be naked voices

with tears of passion

and strip to reality

throwing clothes that refashion


silencing those stupid voices

that want belief

to be an admiration of heroes

whose lies bring grief


history tells us

that if we let go

the handle might be hidden

and lost from its glow


throw if you must

but let the stones be truth

and stolid persistence

with the loyalty of Ruth


please take over

from our gutless leaders

and be monarchs of the heart

to help our bleeders


the fight is worth it

the means is justified

as to live in this world

is a questionable ride


and the joy of battle

can be so rewarding

the cheers and hugs

our hope now boarding


a new ship called FAIRNESS

with its planks secure

docking in each port

with your arms in moor


DeaBeePea 10-29-18

Hope and Prayer


So steadfast

This unrelenting feather

Light and so wispy

But bold in stormy weather


A day and night shadow

Clinging to my vine

Stringy branches of thought

Looking for a smile to dine


Like a little bird

I try to keep it warm

Thwarting all my doubts and fears

Where deadly threats do swarm


My steps are often unsteady

And the sidewalk’s cracks do grow

as I reach too hard to catch

the plume in cynical throe


quiet in belief and prayer

not a bandwagon’s greedy rider

but waiting with an honest nod

living dreams as soft as eider


no matter, where I go

I sense a magnetic charm

Attaching me to barbules

Immunized from harm


I ask, what is my calamus?

My brain or foolish heart

Hearing haunting lyrics

As I sing of choices carte


The power within me is tainted

Unless I take a channel

That joins the bouncing breeze

For my humanity to empanel


My laughter at times is evil

Succumbing to empty disdain

So with caution I do impart

To ease the pina’s pain


As I clasp my hands together

Forgiveness is not wanted

But forgiving all the others

To praise with love unvaunted


As I ponder in distasteful anger

I feel this lilting caress

Removing the cumbersome load

A warm and comforting undress


It is immortal

And as old as Father Time

And will be my downy friend

Throughout my enlightening climb

DeaBeePea 10-27-18


If you don’t think I am thinking 

You are wrong
Not only that
I am pondering
Crying and laughing
Thinking about death
And living a lot longer
My kids
Are they happy?
Is the world 
Coming to an end?
Then I realize
We don’t know very much
But I do know that
I am drinking coffee
And writing something
And looking at the dogs
And wondering
What movie I will watch
I love old movies
Black and white
Not like life
I have things to do
I don’t know why I am doing them
But they are fun
I recommend it
If it isn’t fun
Don’t do it
Good advice 
Don’t you think?
I am also thinking about furniture
Why it is chosen
And if it should be rearranged
And sliding doors 
And electronic kitchen appliances
People who I haven’t seen
For a while
So if you don’t think
I am busy
Just look at my mind
Very busy
Like a collection of rubble
Swept by a tornado
Where will I land?
Besides Document 1 of Microsoft Word
I hope in someone’s heart
That would be nice
Oh… love
Now that’s something I haven’t
Thought about yet today
Well maybe I have
Every second

DeaBeePea 1-22-19

Orange Moon


travelling to titian

with my juice-splashed eyes

through the white branches

of birch tree skies


the stars all gathered

awestruck in glare

against the blanket

a shiny black snare


the silence is still

I dare not quiver

though my body trembles

in winter's shiver


but I feel not cold

my body seems warm

suspended in space

in a dream-like swarm


I look down at my feet

they are still on the ground

as I look up again

affirming what I found


this apricot giant

has taken me over

with a bittersweet song

and smelling burnt clover


a fireside chat

with gods of the night

reclaiming belief

in miracle's might


I will rest my head

in its spinning ream

of magical illusions

in a tangerine dream


DeaBeePea 1-21-19



This is not exactly what I mean

Because of knowledge

And suspect attachments

And thoughts wayward path


Yes, the sun is the sun

But our labels suspicious

Do I intend more closely

With my perception of shine


This awkwardness

It shall be the protagonist

Defining itself

In its contaminated bath


But there is levity

Self-effacing stumbles

Slapstick noises splashing

Where the waters dine


The world and I

In a brotherly feud

Respect and love

But so doubtful and sour


Searching for whereness

As I become an eye

Finding my bearings

And the earth’s wobbly compass


Do we ever meet

This spacious void and I

The first move in question

As the wind starts to scour


My vulnerability beckoning

As my heart opens wide

And my mind is rattled

In its armourless rumpus


What is this literary sword

Filling in for fear?

I suppose this admittance

Is honesty’s mouth


With this maturity, comers a draw

No winner arrives

But a contented sweat

Trickles down my chest


There is advice

From those of inclination

And I absorb this voice

In my wisdom’s drouth


Motivation found

In immortality’s cry

A perilous journey

To this unreachable quest


DeaBeePea 1-20-19



There is pain

In my centre

Circling and hurting

Going here and there

Exaggerated anger so diverting


The sun is shining, today

In the vortex

Solid and secure

Nothing to do with me

I only have its heat to endure


A constellation

Of sparking agony

Is there no door?

All my nerve-endings tined

Pointing me to my infinite floor


is there no affair

Of the heart or the mind

Am I dissolving

Or just avoiding

With the paramount project of resolving


first, is my location inside



Irritations focal point inside



I am sensitized

Feeling sorry for myself

This comic creation, as advertised


I cannot count myself

Numbers don’t do it

A chance to rejoice

True or false

Not really multiple choice


gaining sophistication

Rather funny I say

Taking the stabbing to a new place

I am the false quantity

Injecting my selfish poison defaced


I see myself

Neither consonant or vowel

Hard to pronounce

Maybe a metaphor

Taking on humanity’s denounce


there seems to be

A draw in battle

No victory for my joy

Or neither in my ache

Playing with my life-long toy


Dancing girl’s in pigtails

Or dastardly men of noir

Is there a pattern

To I see everything

From benevolent leader to dingy slattern


Each fascination takes hold

And the fever sweats

Recycled into energy

Yes, I have strength

Overcoming fates elegy


crawling out this window

In search of myself

My clothes growing tight

In a nervous swelling

As my eyes expand their sight


DeaBeePea 1-17-19


I, too, dislike it, but where is this discontent
A knowledge of my mortality
Vocabulary so limited
Or without genuine sadness

But there is discovery
As I play this instrument
As, with a hole in my head
And hands waving about

Is my hair rising
Or palms asweat
Looking over these lines
Plagiarism of previous madness

organization so lacking
But does this matter
In allowing me some liberty
And the freedom of my doubt

interpretation beyond meaning
From those who simply are
Not sure of where they come
Not knowing what they read

some say I am holding a bat
Others, brushing a feather
Others still; making love
Where is my foolish heart

the continuous chain
From laugh to cry
Is an anecdote: child to adult
And back again, my guilt is fed

there comes before my eyes
A collage of recurrence
Without previous caution
In the hope that I do part

am I a critic
Angry because I do not understand
Lazy and pompous
Thinking I am first

Oh, I am plagiarism’s friend
I should continually laugh
But my poem is me
And that should be the road

Thou friend and gallery
Of my words so long
Do not expect to learn
Or satisfy your peculiar thirst

Just ponder for a moment
Then say “This is what he wrote”
It is simply that
My past forever towed

DeaBeePea 1-17-19

The Pit


So bottomless in its conceit

Unwilling to banish

A master of remembrance

As we dress in our denial


We divide our light

And define by light and dark

But the contours meet

Each and every day of breath


Cubes and cylinders

Mock us in shape

As our mindful dictionary

Speaks in gloating style


And the science of our brain

Daring us in hypothesis

Tells us of burial

And ideas of death


But there is no clock

And the hands are bird-legs

The tick-tock is a song

A hymn of our despair


The films and books

Give us a performance of truth

And our shovels pause

Enamoured in love


And this black hole so far

And deep in its intrusion

Ignored by our faith

In the human flair


The odours seep

Through the soil of our doubt

And we begin to ask questions

With our tattered gloves


Our blood filters through

This layered mess

A history of hate

Mingling with lust


Even when I don’t see the fire

The flames are felt

The crackle is my hope

For earthy rebirth


This growing muddle

In words we write

Are a poetic mud

In playful robust


Forgetting is our demise

Understanding our mucilage

Standing over this miscellany

With our arms in girth


DeaBeePea 1-8-19



My days

Are they dreams

And in my slumber

My life ensues


Am I afloat

My pain merely the wind

My vision a cloud

Breath a fire


Is the unimagined

All that I know

My body motionless

Paying sinful dues


The sun shines on me

But only in death

My voice is slander

Of history’s dire


My blood is not mine

An ancient river

my skin a blanket

keeping dreams within


the playful spirit

that splashes in the dark

with ruffled pillow

and sheets of sweat


and when I wake

my drowsiness lives

and I am confirmed

in my cynical grin


but through the night

unrestrained is my joy

miracles flourish

like a magical toy


where am I tangled

is it when I’m acting

on my conforming stage

with a director of slight


those hours of rest

and freedom of mind

are wild and free

as my quiet heart beats


do I know of grief and pleasure

Yes… under the ceiling of stars

Knowing all that is between

Where life has its smite


Is this a mysterious secret

Or am I bedded with all

And sharing my passions

On the lifeless streets


DeaBeePea 1-8-19

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