Peace Talks

world healing, world peace, janet p caldwell, inner child press, chyna blue, edyfin graphix, william s peters, sr, janet caldwell, american poets, global


Lay down your weapons
put your hatred aside
and just for a moment
think for yourselves
not parroting . . .
what someone else has said.
It is only the unknown
that is so frightening
the shadows that scare.
This concept . . .fear
that has stricken the hearts of men
when conversations have never begun
or have been carelessly withdrawn
is ludicrously inept.
Sit with me, let us converse, you will see
that we all want the same things
at least similarly
for our precious families
throughout this vast humanity.
The imagination can be a cruel master
and emotions may be acted on
and do not reveal the truth
of what is happening
when no-one is talking
except the political
brain – washing, big guns.
Our children suffer the most
there are generations
who have never experienced peace
and this is a sad state of affairs.
Don’t we care ?

Do we name ourselves as good examples ?
Tell me now, I do not understand.
With the current legacy we’re leaving
how will history record us ?
Are we proud of ourselves ?
For my sake and for yours
the sake of the innocents
I am opening my hands
letting go of who’s right or wrong.
Though culturally different
aren’t we the same ?
Love will take us there
leading to the exchange of ideas
understanding ideals
watch the healing begin.
Together we’ll sing songs
of reconciliation
hand in hand in hand.
I don’t know about you
but I do know that it begins with me.
I have taught my children
to love the Global Family.
Won’t you join us
and give it a try ?
Take my hand in peace.
For I too . . . am your family
and just for this moment
let us think for ourselves
not parroting . . .
what someone else has said.

(c)  Janet P. Caldwell

There is no trust more sacred than the one the world holds with children. There is no duty
more important than ensuring that their rights are respected, that their welfare is
protected, that their lives are free from fear and want and that they grow up in peace.
Kofi Annan

Tripping’ on a Star

Tripping’ on a Star

It must be a middle aged
crazy thing, growing up
and I thought, not quite so fast
or something of the sort.

I did not tell you
or ask anyone . . .
what to do
or how to believe.

As a matter of fact
you don’t know much about me.

So, Please do not tell me how to live
in that square box you keep in your cellar.

Beside your face in a jar !

They ( You ) cannot even run their
own lives, according to me;
so let me, do my own thing
we all need scraped knees
running into walls and a reprieve.

So, hey, hey – you, you
get off of my cloud.
I like flying high
above the crowd.

Lost in the stars
neutrino dust
roils and curls.

I do not remember
inviting you along
surging through . . .
the motes and whorls.

These trips are mine
and mine alone.
Gotta find myself,

gotta find, gotta find, gotta find
going to find myself
if it takes the heavens
and time trekkers to be my guides.

All on my own, my way. I am found.

(c) Janet P. Caldwell – March 25, 2014
Video- Much respect to The Rolling Stones

Dis – Ease Free


Dis – Ease Free

I am not a performer
or even a guest
at your masquerade ball.
I refuse to wear a mask
with snakish, snappish tubes
choking me, in my nose and throat
much like Medusa’s head – dress.

I have said it before
though you have not heard
Mr. Pharmacy man.
Not sure what it will take
to strip and shake you
from that fake – ass play

Though it tried to take
away the essence of me.
I am on my way
don’t you see, can you ?
Yeah, I have arrived . . . really.

Play, did you say
when and where ?
I do love the arts, you know.
Just not the sick games.

I am not a hustler
got no game you see
and don’t want any either.

The inane street talk
and whisperings
trying to block my lane
of possibilities
shame, shame
get away from me.

I wanna be me
I wanna be free
and let go
of man’s lying dis-ease
and some of the now
that does not feed
or produce good seeds
for even a Grass – Hopper to eat.

So, they have been tossed into
a river of challenges, drowned
and yes won, by you and me.
And we have allowed us
to pick and choose
from the garden of Ease
to be naturally
dis – ease free.

Simply BE–ing.
I AM, Love, Joy and Faith.
There is so much to do and see !
And that Is doing it for me.
Shine – On my children
shine – on and BE Happy.

(c) Janet P. Caldwell March 5, 2014

Pic: Fair Use

Life and Death


Life and Death

If I could shed another
one – thousand tears today
I would not, could not.

It would change nothing
but swollen eyes and a messy face.

I think about your seductive grace
and grave of traps with wires,
pulling me under and in. Oh yes
I am grateful that I was saved
from that vineyard of sour grapes.

For they hold too many unfinished lives
not being able to carry
the burdens of this life
and the strife
that did not belong to them
in the first place.

They did not know
nobody told them
to simply let go of fear
or if they did
the soul could not hear.

To let go and drop that baggage
before it’s too late.

Your ways were not mine
nor mine yours
though we tried . . .
and Bless us both for that.

Though it changed nothing.

If I could fake my way
through this, I would not.
I have worn death masks
for far too long
and they are suffocating.

I want to breathe and be myself
no pyres this time.
The Truth would emerge
if I could but hold on . . .
and so it has.

Many times we have compromised
but not this time.
This dance has turned
into a vaporous ghost
of which I refuse to host any longer.

(c) Janet P. Caldwell February 15th, 2014
Pic: Fair Use

Winter Song

NJ Jan 2014

Winter Song

Today, I woke up
to the sensations
of seasonal saturation . . .
stirring and whirring
there was a chill in the air.

Brrrrrrrrr !

During the night
Ole Man Winter
was billowing
and playing
paying homage
to himself . . .

yeah, he was simply showing out.

Breathing in deeply and briskly
then exhaling, whooooooo, whooooooo
he blew clean . . .
clean across this land.

I fingered the curtains
and like a child
eagerly awaiting Santa
I peeked through
the bleakest of blinds
it was oh so dark outside.

Something about it
delighted me though
and made me
want to shout excitedly.

The snow was
. . . falling
I did see . . .
and only by a distant light
that was vaguely visible to me.

Nary a creature was in sight
and this excited me.
I dressed myself hurriedly
and ventured into
dawn’s nearly light
with the flurries fanned
across my face
and making my vision
hazy and blurry.

I did not care though
this was too much fun.
I stuck out my tongue
catching the snowflakes
while doing a bit of a clumsy dance
with giant boots on.

Whirling and twirling
as Ole Man Winter
sang his tune for me
then lying on Mother’s breast
arms flailing across her surface
digging into the snow
with heels and toes
while being so free
in this winter – wonderland.

© Pic & Poem Janet P. Caldwell January 2014