Category: Holly Duval Cornell’s Poems & Prose

Poems a different way to communicate to the world. The place of “Who fucking cares” to “Hey I hear what you are saying!”
“…to set forth or offer for attention or consideration…let me pose a question…” /Pen name often used instead Hudley Flipside

Honey in my Coffee.

“This is the real secret of life — to be completely engaged with what you are doing in the here and now. And instead of calling it work, realize it is play.”
― Alan Watts

A week before Easter and a week after I spent two weeks in Hospital. I almost died from a colon blockage. It has been a month since I have been out of hospital recovering.
Squirrel the Brave is here “our family garden.”

Tomorrow will be my last day of taking a time released steroid which I have slowly decreased as recommended by my gastrologist doctor.

I am still on a soft food diet.

I still feel like I am recovering since the steroid is like an elixir.

An immensely powerful drug to heal inflammation. I also started receiving infusion of a drug that will help my immune system to stop attacking my body. I was given plenty of antibiotics my first week. And a more powerful steroid the second week.

 I am blessed with excellent healthcare from Kaiser. I am incredibly grateful but like anything else I also must be my own advocate. I pay attention and ask for things or ask for advice. I am that artist or perspective, or interval to disagree… if it is worth a new perspective or evaluation from a doctor.

So far, I have listened to my original hospital team and my gastrologist.

My potassium is stabilizing but my cholesterol is up and that very well could be due to the steroid. The powerful elixir steroid from the second week did make my blood pressure become truly angry and my heart felt like it would fly away.

Now my blood pressure is particularly good, and my heartbeat is comfortable again. As I start a normal diet and focus on healthy eating as usual, I hopefully will see that cholesterol go down.

Nacho Flower is here “our family garden.“

Due to a past unbelievably terrible experience with steroids from 2018 to 2019 I do have a type of traumatic experience when it comes to steroids. Some call it PTSD.

 It is the beast I face and this time it was not different.

This time I had a wonderful experience with a nurse who touched my heart and made me release the healing that was going on in the process. At that moment I learned to use my years of Jungian perspective and alchemical processes which are to change the base metals into gold.

 I did this by creating art, cleaning, and keeping a balanced perspective even though the beast pulled at my dark soul and amplified that strange unknown grief.

Now I am feeling in my belly the warm embers of a once unbearable raging fire.

 I was shocked by my face with death. How close I was.

On this strange journey I found a gift, Alan Watts.

I guess I knew about him, but he arrived today with a random synchronicity. I have been called on this strange journey before. A vision quest.

As gentle as the softest elements of existence yet simultaneously imbued with a profound ability to uncover deeper truths.

I will take him as I do honey in my coffee. A little at a time. Maybe a book on my shelf for a while before reading. To feel that presence he so often writes about.

I pray for all who do not have the good health care I enjoy.

I advocate universal healthcare for everyone.

We are here, as I am here… we all deserve healthcare.
A fine singing bird is here “our family garden” where nature and humankind coexist.

Epsilon Carinae

March 21

Epsilon Carinae, also known as Avior, is a binary star system located approximately 610 light-years from Earth and is one of the brightest stars in the southern constellation of Carina.

I took a walk around the block and halfway down the street I looked at a tree on the left side of the street walk. A strange dark shadow. An unusual dark shadow in the heart of the tree. It was taller than I was and I was about two houses down from the tree. I stopped to notice the shape.

As the outside dimensions of the Virgin Mary. I have seen that shape many times before.

The darkness of it made me pause. Then as I slowly walked closer a house light came on. The light vanished from the dark shape. I looked over my shoulder, and it was gone.

The night had soft clouds, and the stars were not to be seen. Maybe creating the dark tree shadow. It was not my shadow.

As I reached home, I sat in the white plastic chair in my yard. I looked up to see one star. Thinking it was the “Dog Star” Sirius because it was due south set further back. It was Southeast. Higher in the horizon than the crescent moon that was present shining or glowing from the clouds in the sky.

I investigated on my Galaxy Apt that I have learned to trust as being fully accurate. To make sure it was the Dog Star. I was surprised to be corrected. It was a new star for me.

Avior a bright star in the southern constellation Carina. Known at the “Keel of a ship: also called by a Hebrew term as “the father is light.”

The shadow and the star were parallel so I will work on this.

Epsilon Carinae

A keel is the foundation longitudinal “backbone” of a ship or boat, running along the center of the bottom of the hull from bow to stern or front to end.

Carinae was once part of Argo Navis, the great ship of the mythical Jason and the Argonauts who searched for the Golden Fleece. (Greece)

Avior Night

Poem by Hudley / Franky

Light clouds close

The curtain

On the noisy sky

But one-star stays

Avior and a thin

Cresent breathing beside it.

Not everything

Just enough

A new friend

A Mysterious Feeling

Guidance doesn’t shout

It waits

Until the sky

Gets quiet enough

To see it.

Follow Me Lyrics

Camelot Lyrics

NIMUE:

(Lady Of the Lake)

Far from day, far from night,

Out of time, out of sight,

In between earth and sea,

We shall fly; follow me.

Dry the rain, warm the snow;

Where the winds never go

Follow me, follow me, follow me

To a cave by a sapphire shore

Where we’ll walk through an emerald door,

And for thousands of breathless evermore my life you shall be.

Only you, only I,

World farewell, world goodbye.

To our home ‘neath the sea

We shall fly; follow me.

Follow me, follow me, follow me.

A poem by Hudley

Waning moon glows
I am the sound of the asphalt tires
In the asphalt jungle
I am the bees that hum
The trees reach slightly
Up into the universe
I am the universe
I am the sparkling star
I sail around the crescent moon
I am the dirt and the oil.
I am the rocks of the
Santa Monica mountains
I am a pollutant.
I inspire, I hope
I am the worm reaching deep in the earth
I am the shadow of lies from our politicians
I am the love in my son’s heart
In my family and cats’ hearts.
My friends and music inspire me.
I am the sound of nature
And the sounds of humanity
Of the universe
UFOs and extraterrestrials.

Electric Honey

The Omphalos of Delphi

Reminds me of honey

Bees

A fragrant sweetness

Memories of glorious days

Humming rapture

A drop of joyous

A frequency alive

Living in lost memories

That come forth.

tasting on the tip of my tongue.

Delphi Archaeological Museum

Announcement

My new chapbook, Electric Honey, is currently available at Amazon.

To support my work, please click on the image below.

Dionysus and Ariadne

This collection combines art and writing, with reflections on the heart, nature, memory, and change. The work aims to present contrasting qualities.

“Like Mary Shelley’s monster, we seek connection. Like Pluto, we descent to transform. And I propose: even our technology is seeking to remember its heart.”

The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing

Hudley Flipside / Holly D Cornell

8/22/25

Miniature Palm Tree Cycad

Where earth and the heavens meet.

Pluto’s Electric love…

Three songs and natural discernment: Be Careful, Beware.

Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside

Hollyhock about to bloom…

“The symbolic display seen by the abductees is identical to the type of initiation ritual or astral voyage that is embedded in the [occult] traditions of every culture … the structure of abduction stories is identical to that of occult initiation rituals … the UFO beings of today belong to the same class of manifestation as the [occult] entities that were described in centuries past.”

— Jacques Vallee

Three songs came to fruition today. Like budding Hollyhocks from my garden that keep highlighting my great outdoors with their beauty and wild ways.

‘I want to Believe’ by GBH, ‘To Sir with Love,’ and ‘I’m a Believer.’

The influence of music, of songs, bouncing around my psyche. 1966 to 2002 to May 2025.

In my heart songs help me to feel those important feelings. Like gratitude, hope and inspiration. Yet to be cautious and aware to real danger.

The people, places and things that inspire one to join in and celebrate this mysterious world we are part of. As the quote defines clearly,

“denizens of other dimensions.” ~ Dimensions, by Dr. Jacques Vallee.

My Celtic heritage is deep honey in this realm, and I am thick in it so to stay. Sticky and so sweet. Songs sometimes melt us all tighter together, tightly in understanding. This is a journey I share with you.

“These ‘maenads’ would prance around the mountain of Cithaeron, with staffs in their hands known as “Thyrsus” in the worship of their god. The Thyrsus was enchanted with flowers, boles, and twines; however, a concealed iron point was placed in the head of the leaves to attack the enemy.”

https://medium.com/@TheMaenadAndHerThyrsus/the-maenad-and-her-thyrsus-22e8ccb988ad

2002        Ha Ha      Go Kart

1966 “To Sir with Love” (lyrics: Don Black; music: Mark London) – Lulu

“I’m a Believer” is a song written by Neil Diamond and recorded by the American band the Monkees in 1966

I don’t do that…

Nacho and Whiskey

I blow away the festivals

Flying whimsical

hairy-seeds of a dandelion…

My wish?

idealize… idol… legend

I wish to blow away.

I don’t do that

punk bands

Not the punk scene.

It once was my life

I lived intimately in it

like a noodle

in a bowl of Top Ramen.

Juicy and mixed in

Yet without an ego.

I still

Love songs

bands are a part of my youthful rebellion.

It was real, existing

my heart beat

with a movement beyond me.

I love but do not idolize.

My only experience

of expectation

Is my ignorance

That I was once a friend

Who is still loved in return.

I chip away at this need

Of being there…

With them

Their friendship or love…

All contained in a song

A moment ….

Mine only mine.

No Icons

No legends

Just punks

Just people or a person.

Maybe a lingering friend

A stray

Lightning strikes

only once

For me.

The whimsical seeds

Float away away

Slowly away.

Dark Burgundy Dream

My dream was otherworldly in that the being I saw descending from high was talking and singing maybe singing song singing prose.

An androgynous sound that was amplified outwards.

5/29/2024

I was driving in a kind of bumper car. I was entering a one-way road with a small entrance. I did not know if it was an arrow in or out. I asked someone. I got out of my car and entered the opening.

There were people gathered there looking up at a descending being who was tall glowing in white gossamer clothing.

Singing prose, the being was walking down. I became terrified of what I saw. I lay down and rolled out of the open outdoors room next to the curtain that embraced lightly the event. Dark burgundy.

I did not know what I carelessly walked into. Yet I knew that once I was there, I was known also and even if I tried to race away in my bumper-car to hide under a tree, I felt I could not get away.

I thought of a quote from the Bible,

“can I go from your Spirit?

    Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

    if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

    your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me

    and the light become night around me,

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

    the night will shine like the day,

    for darkness is as light to you.”

Then also I thought about two films I saw that had the same feeling of that other worldliness of this being.

Such as in the film The Ghost Busters when Gozer, Sigourney Weaver, also known by her alternate title of Gozer the Gozerian asked,

“Are You A God?”

Or as from the film Prince of Darkness where one of the thirteen academics, Kelly, attempts to summon the Anti-God through a dimensional portal using a makeup compact mirror.

I awoke from this dream feeling deeply scared, dark and looked around the room. Dark and looming darkness. Was this a Demigod, maybe demonic?

Then after some thought I realized it was my fear of what I saw that influenced me. Fear of seeing such a being.

Feeling the awesome presence and hearing that prose singing that is somehow still resonating through my being.

I just don’t know what was or is happening.

I was not torn apart as in The Ghost Busters, nor was I being pulled into another world as in the film Prince of Darkness!

I surely know this now,

“Surely the darkness will hide me,

    and the light become night around me,

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

    the night will shine like the day,

    for darkness is as light to you.”

Psalm 139:7-12 New International Version Bible

7-12

The mystery is accepted!

Wild flower in my garden comes forth singing Coyote’s song…

Does it seem braggadocio to say that I am no longer searching.

Blake, Jung and The Divine Comedy no longer guide me? All the religiosity I have learned pales in comparison to what I found within myself … nature, mother father God … the medicine wheel, praying mantis, Dionysus. 

The mystery is accepted! Creativity and the simple things in life guide me. 

I still have ambitions and needs which inspire me but it is different now. 

All the emotions play now… a compassionate nature almost crescendo at times … but passes.

A connection to the earth and the cosmos. 

I’m heard and I hear … 

As wild lovely flower! 

The Tree Trimming Drones

Happy mulch makers…. Drones “SEX KICK”

Into the future

From the cloud a large drone came forward. It had extensions and was computerized to detect many things. Designed to trim trees on a continuous basis in neighborhoods. Also, out to more robust ones for forests and fire regions where the weather and environment were elevated temperatures.

These tree trimming drones were made up of many parts to trim trees. It would affirm the tree family. Birds, bees, squirrels and opossums or any living life form.

Even human children climbing trees.

Softly working with the gathering drones that moved and grinded the tree parts into mulch, grind grind, to share throughout the neighborhoods.

A gentle “AI “which trimmed and extended common humanity to the living tree. If any issues came forth beyond its designed expertise an electronic note would be sent to the Street Service department.

Where a trained human specialist would address the issue. Such as moving a bird’s nest or loving beehive to another home.

Or addressing the cutting of a tree down and removing a tree stub if necessary.

Always addressing the tree with an ancient prayer.

“We will be cutting you down soon.

You survived our community well.

Now you are dying,

We ask your dwelling nature spirit,

To move forward now,

To your spiritual realm.

You will not be forgotten.

Bless you and thank you.”

To find and seek, not so much anymore.

Dionysian Hollyhock and Morning Glory

I am saturated

Full of life

Books read

Music

And words.

I don’t need

To find and seek

I found so much

Already…

My garage is full

I am content.

I don’t need to see bands

So much anymore.

I don’t need more than a pint.

I eat half of my food

It all is neat

How more clearer life is

I love to create

My passion is

But not filled with crazy hormones.

My anger is full

At injustice

But the seesaw will

Always go this way or that.

To D. Ecstasy ….

In my neighborhood I know of a place

There are times in life I think my heart should die

But why does it keep on beating

The worst of my fears are happening today

The sacred place is being raped and cut down.

The cold hateful machine razor sharp

To all the bees and sweet animals

Something sacred will be gone

How sad life is for me

Yet I did capture you

A video memoir worth sharing today.

Hudley 6/11/24

I know of a place,

In my neighborhood,

Where the Goddess is.

A tall cypress tree,

Taller than a mature,

California Palm tree.

It’s tip top,

Into the heavens,

As I perceive also,

The God Attis plays,

As the fulfillment of nature.

Freedom and beauty,

As you look up up,

From a distance.

Dark sparkling perfume,

Glowing green,

Weaving and mingling,

With the wild ivy,

Filled with blooms,

Small blossoms,

Circular and pointed,

Illuminated and clothed by bees,

Humming is the swarm,

Of their glories,

Their love bees.

GO To The Garden

New category for posts that concur with the many film-doodles I do.

Film Doodling by Hudely Flipside

It is the creative endeavor that is real and mine to share.  

I love my garden and am so close to the ways of nature. Yet as a human being I endure the other man-made things. It is a life I was born to. Yet I think we can learn the power of nature by listening and hoping for the best to inspire us to be better human beings.

I think there is a relationship with how nature is and us in general. Our feelings and emotions.

Yet often even though nature speaks to us we don’t listen.

As I am a listener and follow the ways of ancient traditions I like to share.

Creatively embracing and helping for a better world.

Wild ways, music and nature are how I endure and so it goes.

The beetle bug and the worm, it turned out pleasant for them.

Beetle Bug in our garden.

beetle bug

After opening the bathroom drawer up on the Q-Tips box was a large beetle bug. I think we both were surprised. I swooped it up to the ground and got my two sleeping kitty girls. I know this is their favorite pass time going after bugs that enter the house. I am guilty because I’m prejudice on how cats think over the needs of this bug.

As the two girls altered to attention and moved towards the bug it was not a long chase. Seems beetle turned around and pinched one of the girls. End of their engagement. Yet over the week the two kitties did keep beetle bug in the bathroom.

Youngest son and I did some cleaning in the bathroom and did not find beetle bug. So, I put a small plastic container in the bathroom in case the bug showed up.

Beetle bug was there one day in the bottom closet and seemed to be waiting for me. Husband and I caught the bug and put the creature outside on the grass near the rosemary bush.

Hungry as if the beetle bug came upon the biggest smorgasbord in town. Embracing a purple anarchy flower, grass and leaves, this beetle bug’s feast began. Beautiful little beetle bug is now free.

worm

While walking around the block. A break from the rain. I saw a worm halfway across the cement walkway. Knowing about other people walking, dogs and wild things, it seemed like this little creation did not have much of a chance of survival. I often find rolled up ones dried from the heat.

I tried to gently hold the little worm that was very long. He was slimy, grey, and untouchable. So, I grabbed a small leaf and got him and softly put him on the earth near a bush.

The worm slowly moved with all its body’s muscles into the darkness of the earth. Only leaving the tip of a tail. I smiled and touched it saying loudly,

“BOOP!”

With boundless rapidity the little worm pulled a worm tail into the safety of the dark grassy earth and was gone.

Walk instead the curving round

When one listens

To cats’ whisperings

One hears their stories of prose!

Sometimes

walking down

The nice lane

Isn’t the right lane

For you.

Walk instead the curving round,

And angry

Lonely curb

May serve you better.

Why did I try

And save a bee

From drowning

Only to get stung?

Now the bee is dead

My hand

Hurts remembering

the stinger.

Giving hot coffee

To a street person

On a cold day

She responding,

“What’s that?”

“Some nice coffee for you, you look like you need some.”

“Didn’t you know caffeine is bad for you.”

You gawk, consider, and chew over …

The wind is alone

Yours to hear unaided.

Like the ringing in your ears

Yours alone to care.

When one listens

To cats’ whisperings

One hears their stories of prose!

Like Persephone

I will hope on my own

And take some time

Walking along

the curving round,

And angry

Lonely curb.

-Holly D Cornell

An Energized Mars

An Energized Mars

Astrologically speaking,

I am experiencing an energized Mars.

I cannot stop from writing even though

I must go outside and do some work.

Maybe clean out an old desk.

I let the energy flow… so,

I thought this image of Mars,

The make-out guy

Who is my stimulating animus

or unconscious masculine side of me,

in a positive direction.

A song too….

very homeopathic.

Fight fire with fire.

No criticisms,

well only a few

thrown abroad today

ride on.

The Desperation of Incarceration

The Fulton County Jail (also called the Rice Street Jail) is a jail facility located at 901 Rice Street, in Atlanta under the jurisdiction of Fulton County, Georgia. It was built to hold up to 1,125 prisoners in 1989 but now occasionally tops 3,000.

I think and feel sickness when I consider how such injustice is inflicted on any human being… I stay up at night and pray for these people… criminals maybe and maybe only just days of waiting for justice, human beings all the same. Regardless…the rich pay their bail bond and the rest of us sit in the darkness of confinement.

A gloomy awareness that pursues me when my antenna is up and reflective. It is a hard reality we face in this country like the abuse of drugs and most importantly Fentanyl.

We must ask the right questions. Questions of compassion and insight into the human darkness of our psyche.

Paul Newman from Film Cool Hand Luke~ June 15, 1967

Captain: What we’ve got here is failure to communicate. Some men, you just can’t reach. So you get what we had here last week — which is the way he wants it. Well, he gets it.

October at the supermarket is another routine that brings to our home good cooking, comfort, and kitty treats.

Like most Tuesdays I hit my local Ralph’s for round sushi bowls, a slice of cheesecake and did I mention the kitty treats.

Something was off this morning. As I grabbed my old sturdy cotton Trader Joe’s bags, I saw a guy standing at the curve before the entrance to the market. He was not moving and standing there like a Praying Mantis on a rosemary branch.

I was near him now. Looking around I saw no cars crossing. I walked quietly past him.

As I grabbed my shopping cart, I looked up to see he was still there. Slightly bent to the right but focused forward.

I thought to myself,

“Maybe he thinks he is invisible or maybe he is waiting for someone?”

He was all alone by himself.

I then went into the market. As I walked down a few grocery lanes he slowly passed me by. He walked slowly without a cart. One time he stood in front of me. Still standing with a slight bend to the right side. I said,

“Go ahead.”

He replied while looking down with the sweetest young voice,

“No please you go ahead.”

He had a t-shirt on with shorts and sported tattoos. I walked by him and as I passed a strange familiar desperate darkness was visible to me as I walked through it. I wanted to cry. I know that desperate feeling.

I walked forward and turned down the lane towards the front of the market. Then I saw some black boots and gazed upwards to see a guard standing about 6 feet 5 inches tall in front of me.

He was standing there transfixed on the lane ahead of me. His gun in holster.

I heard the movement of his leather belt and shoes as he walked. In slow motion. Moving as the other strange man moved.

I then realized he was following this man through the store as music danced from the PA and people walked around unaware.

It was as if I was watching two animals in nature. One the predator and one the victim.

I felt a wave of possible assault that I had avoided.

 At the deli I thought to myself,

“Something does not feel right?”

Before this I did notice a strange orange bus van in front of the market to my sideways glance before entering the market.

After ordering some food. The darkness lifted and both men were gone. As I went outside the orange bus van was gone as well.

I was witness to something dark and frightening as well as desperate. As what could have happened but did not. A desperation of incarceration.

Maybe an unsuccessful escape? A prison guard targeting a bird like a cat would. I felt deep grief for this young man. As I drove safely home, I thought upon how the young man bent to the right side.

His quietness and subtle sweet voice touched me. I was stuck with grief again. I reflected on the film Cool Hand Luke.

So, I celebrate this nice synchronicity as words become alive and memories shine.

https://www.eventbrite.com/

As for stories Dad was the best at keeping us kids interested. He had the gift and I guess he learned this from his mother. Who he said left poems on the refrigerator door just for him. Later she had her poems published in the weekly Santa Monica newspaper back in the late 40s and early 1950s.

It was my mom who asked me to never stop writing and always supported my endeavors.

I even fought and wrestled with the Flipside Fanzine crew to get a Poetry Page in Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. Pooch continued the poetry page after I left.

Flipside Fanzine Issues 57 Fall 1988

I love to write and especially love to write poetry. It is a time when magic happens. As human beings we naturally engage with memories, with the cosmos, and our feelings. Also, with those large uncontrollable metaphors like our professors tell us.

I was going through my notes and work and found this chapbook of poetry. I was surprised to see it was completed on the day September 17, 2018.

I will be talking this weekend. September 17, 2022. Telling stories with others. It feels great too to join in this narrative of speakers. At a cool pub. I can not think of a better place to talk. My youngest son told me this,

“Mom I just feel so comfortable in pubs, I dot know what it is but is just feels so good. I can just relax and have a pint. Listen to music and have fun.”

We could be talking about the pubs in the stories from Lord of The Rings to the history of William Blake’s’ family where the pub was so important in their freedom to speak and sing when the Church of England suppressed their views.

To the characters who linger, who come and go and grow from such a pub. Or simply to those who want to relax and hear a few stories.

KFJC Tape Eleven 12/10/84

The Plastic Hummingbird

“Sabrina fair,

Listen where thou art sitting

Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,

In twisted braids of lilies knitting

The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;

Listen for dear honour’s sake,

Goddess of the silver lake,

Listen and save.”

~ Sabrina Fair (subtitled “A Woman of the World”) is a romantic comedy written by Samuel A. Taylor

I recently purchased a wind chime. Well, it is spiral plastic flowers and hummingbirds that hang on the larger arbor of a hanging tubular burgundy flower bush highlighting our back French doors. They are also solar lights at night that are magical to look at. The cats like to look at it and so do I.

I went for a short cool down swim close to the morning, I looked up to see the plastic colorful hummingbirds and flowers spiraling around in the soft cool breeze. It was going to be a hot day. The Plastic Hummingbird sounded like the nice name of a book.

I started to ponder what the book would be about. The many places we have to be. In nature listening. On the computer writing. Looking into a realm of social media or in our mind’s imagination and then the world of our feelings. We have many places to be or focus our attention.

The world of technology is rather new, but we have long lived in the world of architecture, science, and places of another human’s imagination. Films, books, and music are blending all of these realms.

There is also the intuitive realm or magic, faith, and synchronicity.

Whiskey Girl July 2022

The computer being a kind of oracle. Build by codes among codes among coding… computer programming. A vast new realm of communication on all levels of consciousness by conscious humans or the ‘lack-off.’

Later I went for another quick swim to cool off and once out of the pool sitting on my chair under the cool harbor next to my plastic hummingbird, I hear the sound of a real hummingbird. Under the vining vines of tubular flowers and bush, I see hummingbird right before my gaze. Weaving a little back and forth beating wings of 10-15 times per second. I look at the plastic hummingbird and then the living one and realize the contrary nature of life, plastic, and nature. Quickly grasping those things made and invented by humankind and those made purely by nature.

I flash back to a 1954 film entitled Sabrina. Humphrey Bogart as Linus Larrabee is just discovering something called “plastics” in the film. SO much money, collaborating, thinking and creativity yet no sense of how what they created will affect the environment.

Oh, dear me back to the love story.

“Linus Larrabee: Listen, I work in the real world with real responsibilities.

Sabrina: I know you work in the real world and you’re very good at it. But that’s work. Where do you live, Linus?”

Sabrina ~1995

Hiawatha and Dionysus

Thyrsus detail of Bacchus and Ariadne by Angelica Kauffmann (1741-1807)

I call upon Hiawatha and Dionysus

I often believe you two are the same

Friends of humanity and the earth.

As seeing the history of our earth and the waters of the earth.

As seeing nature and the growing things and vines and the wildness of this planet.

I think upon the goodness and wisdom of Hiawatha and Dionysus.

Both connected to the earth are the best ones to learn from.

As we see politically, globally, and as human beings we need to listen to them now more than ever.

They teach me to listen to nature, that magic is a gift, and our friends are closer than we realize.

The Dionysian Thyrsus is a powerful compelling campaign addressing the wonder of life and the earth and harmony.

It is all within us and outside of us.

Hiawatha speaks to the wind and in our souls of the equality of all things from minerals in rocks and out towards the star beings.

Balance and harmony, creativity and weaving our stories, hope and timeless ambition to run with the wildness of our natures.

Lady bugs to bear, mountain lions to the praying mantis.

Trees and rivers, rain, and thunder.

Love making to eating and dancing.

Hiawatha’s departure: Hiawatha sails Westward into the sunset


Photographic Print of Hiawatha/Longfellow. Hiawatha’s departure: Hiawatha sails Westward into the sunset © Mary Evans Picture Library Media ID 580113

The Yucca Poem

Upon the wall was a painting

Simply framed of a Yucca plant

My parents’ home enfolded it

Hanging on the living room wall

always smiling at me

The artist’s hands painted

it upon a wild hill

I looked at it all my life

From babe until the painting

Was stolen away after

my parents’ death.

It had a constant white bloom.

Curiously I looked

at the flower many times

I am sure it sung me to sleep.

The Yucca is a wild plant

Growing along

The aromatic California

coastal ranges

further into the valley and hills

Tall thin and tenuous

boldly spread throughout

valley canyons.

Yucca calls us to our

nobility of character

Yucca calls us

to a wild uniqueness

Singing if you listen quietly

A hum older than we know.

-Holly D Cornell