Wednesday, March 24, 2010



Up from the deep waters
The deep unconscious
The unreflected upon waters of the oceans
Which hold together this striving planet
Up and out in the open
From these deep waters
The old patriot rejection of old world parentals…
Are we afraid of old European ideologies which suckled
Throughout centuries...and aeons...? even learning all the while
to winnow out some poisons..
...An old-new idea
Is born and in Boston the tea boxes go into the sea
That sea of consciousness
(they sometimes call the marrow in our bones the sea of consciousness)
…that sea of consciousness which ultimately touches all shores on this planet.

“And what is the ocean doing?”

And like the unclean knives buried for centuries on the ocean floor,
The creations in the deep loch come up to walk our modern streets
And populate our screens…for better or worse…we must decide.
The old subterranean dragons in the edens of our ideas…
How to integrate them into our dimly dreamed benevolent humanity?

The patriot’s cry…”from my cold dead hands”…pry this weapon.
And the nation which says it’s “Christian” forgets that the man Jesus
Urged the giving up of weapons…even suggested they be made into
Plows for growing fields of food to feed the hungry.
So we have the rebirth of the tea party…
Rather than leaning shoulders to wheel to actually build
That more perfect union, that more perfect government
Which ultimately leads to the laying down of the weapon
Before we have to deal with that “cold dead hand”…

Fear? Well, bombs, swords…
Those who make them tend to reject
The idea of benevolent evolution for humankind.
Jesus said those who live by the sword will die by the sword.

Do not let us be that ever adolescent culture
Continually rebelling against motherfather countries
In order to discover the “new” identity within….
Let us put down the weapon
Before we are that cold dead hand…

Rather be the hand that signed a declaration of the benevolent
Future for humankind…that promised to be example…
A living walking example…into being.
We must not become that cold dead hand.
We create ourselves each day
According to our idea of ourselves.
Let us welcome the future with warm hands.

--Barbara Smith Stoff
March 24, 2010

Friday, March 12, 2010



I can give you no children this time.
Yet I am pregnant with your love.
Our gift to life
is nurtured in warmth
of winter evenings and lamplit pages…
history distilled here in rooms
safe for a time of growing.
You read of brave visionaries
and watch modern day news…
and come to the question between.

Dimly we know, we two,
that in me your trust, so carefully tendered,
finds answer and soft shelter
as we walk through the days
of this our morningtime…
toward such bright birthing.

How far we can see…
through suns and moons
as the earth keeps turning
from love to love, aeons and sages:
As we are here to warm ourselves,
Again we eat our bread together.

--Barbara Smith Stoff