I’m Not What You Think I Am



I’m Not What You Think I Am

Persona’s are a mask.

Something that I wore

and at times still do.

That well crafted image

that I want others to see

so that I can control

the hidden pain, the stains

and burdensome weights carried

like an authorized pack mule.

And also the scars buried beneath

my heart and face

have became an integral part of me.

This plethora of uncertainty, insanity

and vanity, leaking from my eyes

like a busted faucet staining . . .

peering through and at the eyes of insensitivity.

Where is the humanity ?

I pick my scabs until they bleed.

I rip and claw them off daily.

Like it or not in revealing myself

is not at all quiet, nor pretty.

For, I am not fully as I seem.

This mask has been on so long publicly

that it needs to be sand blasted off

like dirty concrete

on an old rooming house wall

where my thoughts gather the dust

of dying carcases and mistrust

to clearly see a hint

of the beauty underneath.

I lost my religion too

how could a god let this world

fall apart so casually ?

Thinking for myself, is scary at times

but shedding this propagandic skin

has been helpful to me.

Please, please don’t ask me

what I believe.

It has been a journey

and may change tomorrow

truths always do.

But I abhor the world of izms and vulgarity.

It is my perspective and judgmental still

but something that I need

for me, at this time to be real.

And I don’t want to be famous

but those who really know me

are aware of this

and to those who do not

quit pushing me

into your imagined bliss.

One last thing, being white

is not a blessing to me

though I never committed

the horrific atrocities.

I wonder, in a past life

what I did to deserve

this fate of inhumanity.

In reality, whatever that is

there is nothing to fear

but an unquiet mind

rambling and rolling

throughout the years.

To be ONE with all

I must drop the mask

the people pleasing

and unrealistic expectations taken on

like a rubber band stretching

to the breaking point

of insanity.

So, let me remove the saddle from my back

and to be myself.

With this . . .

the puzzled pieces

nicely fit.

And make up one race

that I belong to

called humanity.

These are just a few

of the things without the mask.

I am not what you think I am.

Most do not know me.

(c) Janet Caldwell – February 23rd, 2015

The Gift of I Am


The Gift of I Am

In the early morning hours

He comes to me . . .

When I feel lost and all alone.


He’s deep within my soul

and I only need to ask for help

once again

and I remember that, I Am Whole.


I welcome his tender touch.

Smiling he takes my hand.

Whispering words of encouragement,

offering a comforting assurance

that mere words cannot convey.

It is a soul thing.


He strengthens me

with a light from within

and reminds me that

he’s carried me

when I lost my way.


And that has been often

throughout this life.

He softens the blows.

After-wards we have a good cry.

Cleansing me with salty tears

and invigorating my soul.


I rise to my feet dancing

the joyous tears streaming down my face.


My run is not over.

The path, once again clear.

Praising his name

Claiming his promise

that within me lives

this Precious Gift.


The Gift of I AM.


(c) Janet P. Caldwell – February 14th, 2015

(c) Luther Barnes and the Red Budd Gospel Choir with Deborah Barnes on lead.

Music “I’m Still Holding On (feat. Rev. F.C. Barnes & Rev. Janice Brown)” by Luther Barnes, The Red Budd Gospel Choir



NASA galaxies



They call them resolutions
for the new year.
What will we give up,
get on –
swear by, swear on
will we simply get with it?

Whatever IT is . . .

I have searched these vast universes
many lifetimes
for the solutions
to BE free
and to dance with glee
with all there is in me.

Flying through the galaxies
I try once again.
Not realizing it is inside
the interior of that great fabric
of you and me.

The ONE of connectedness of spirit
and soul. All that is within you and me.

Too many books, light workers, dreams and religions.

My insides were gushing out,
while eating the watermelons,
and spitting hard seeds
that I would never digest.
Simply littering the ground
for them to sprout,
and another to pick up and eat.

I have also jumped many a fence
and the grass was not greener.

I do not belong here.

Still nothing proffered
more of this battle of inhumanity,
the soul-less gods of insanity
were offered on every corner.
The well-hidden small print
was barely visible.


And . . .
once more, I was
to be fed from
the table of confusion,
in the land of illusion
while entertaining more delusions.

I have always known:
I am not from here.
You may find that rather queer.
But as Justin says, “I love you anyway”.

So, if I must,
I’ll listen –
to that still small voice
of the ONE that whispers to me alone:

“I AM Love. Never give up my child.
I have seen your tears,
held you in my arms
when you shook
unrealistic fears.

Rest now, Beloved Child
I AM, Disrobed and Here.”

© Janet P. Caldwell – November, 2014

Many thanks, Justin Blackburn and hülya n. yılmaz
Pic: © NASA

BE-ing Present

kicking stones

BE-ing Present

Have you walked down the street
looking down, kicking rocks
while missing a lush scenery ?

Do you feel the breeze
Gently and playfully
Lifting your cotton dress
With so much ease ?

Hardly noticeable.

The flowers on the trees
are sharing their aromatic
perfumes graciously.

The birds are singing songs of love
to their mates, while
the bees are pollinating and
producing honey and wax.

Hardly noticeable.

BE-ing present will allow you
to take part in these Glorious beings.
BE-ing Present is beauty.
BE-ing Present is the key.

(c) Janet P. Caldwell – November, 2014

Pic: Courtesy of myigloolife.blogspot.com No Copyright Infringement Intended

The Placebo Effect


The Placebo Effect

It all seemed so real to me.
The cure, I mean.
I listened and listened,
Until, I could conceive
of the concepts,
that were foreign to my psyche.

This led to a certain belief,
some called it magical thinking.
I was not aware of the consequence,
that sneaks in like a thief
or maybe, I just didn’t want to admit it.

I was more interested in seeing the benefit.
That never came.
You might say that we were all a bit insane.

But, I systematically
entangled myself
and in every way that I could
to make it to that promised land.

A warm smile greeted us at the front door.
While our assets were being hauled
discreetly out the back
out of sight
and they thought, out of mind.

A gregarious man led us all down
the garden path, unawares.
And what an adventure it was.

Hands reached out to me
as we entered a gate.
Decorated with carvings
And precious stones.
I held on tight.

It was mesmerizing
almost tantalizing
knowing that we’d reach the holy waters soon.
To cleanse us from our thoughts
and to rob us of our being.

We were cleansed.
Or were we simply
being anesthetized ?

We saw a classic case
of polarization
from the masses.
In fact, we lived it
with no questions asked.

Yet again, we had to shake it off
and think for ourselves.
Realizing this was not for us.
It was after all
The Placebo Effect.

© Janet P. Caldwell – October 28, 2014
Pic: http://mentalfloss.com/article/51789/understanding-placebo-effect

Author’s Note: Take from this what you will. In the end, I do hope it raises questions and that you find your own answers.