Mother earth spins out and a new yaer is born.

Update: I am writting this from the future but i wont spoil ut and tell you what hapened. Anyway if you'are in the future too and are reading this on a diferent new year you will have to change the numbers yourself and change the numbers using the imagination eg. where i have written '2011' use you imagination to insert whatever year you are experieneceing - hope this help. HS.

Another year over 
and what have you done/?well i have have done lots of goodthings to make the universe a better place for one and all in my roll as mauve therapy pratitioner and light worker. I have a pome for you oh dear reader and though it is a bit premature like an overexited man i cant help myself but post it all over my bog for ur enjyment oh dear reader

frohes neues jahr pictures
It is nearly almost 2012 and i will be away at a retrot over the new year time period as i am working towards my Mauve oneness masters badge and i am also hoping to qualify as a hollywood nails person (because i have bills to pay) and i have also come up with the exellent idea of doing pagan woodland oneness vajazzling using found items from the woods and the recycling . I have been utilsing milk bottle tops, ring pulls, dried pinecones berries in my new art form aswell as making a merkin with a dead squirrel and some combed out dog hair from my sister's lurcher, Muffin. I think this new venture will be VERY succesful and on trend for 2012 when people are being austeer and thrifty. 
I am patenting the idea so that Krusty Allslopp doesnt steel it for her cookery and sowing show.

This isnt quite how i invision it - this is just a muck up that i did on photobucket fanny (ha ha - geddit).

And so anyway of dear reader here is my new years gift to you one and all. it is a poem called

Mother earth spins out and a new yaer is born.

Another round dozen is layed before us

though eggs are ovals, of the ovary,

these are months, spun out like pots on a wheel

round and round like

like the cycle of the womb and moon

smooth promised days

are unhatched fertilised eggs,

filled with hope,

but hopefully not with salamanda

or botchedulism,

there gleaming lives in waiting, awaiting,

pausing pregnant in the warm nest of hope,

(woven with love and skill

like a dream catcher having a lie down in a barn,)

the anticipatience of new years day,

box fresh

Made viable by cockery and womanly wet,

Awaiting mother earth's warmth to pass the days,

With old father time, turning lifes magnificent waterwheel,

Sweating and huffing and puffing

Rushing and gushing his spurt seed of man

From his metamorphical man eggs

It is so,

it is oh so....

pignant, it is poemtry,

IT IS LIFE OH CHILDREN!

And now 2011 is spent like a flaccid member

Lighting itself a congratulatory cigar

Before it is devoured, black window like, 
by the spider clock hands of passing time.

and so we wait for 2012 to find its feet

to rise: an egg yolk sun,

benighted in the new years honours list

by the queen this new dawn,

nurturing us with protein rich mucous

As we skip like wooded pagans

toward lighter longer days

and the equinox of spring.

We have survived the dark days,

though at first we were afraid,

we were petrified,

for we are not stone but blood and  flesh,

box fresh, like new underpants

PLease new year, cradel us

with your supportive lycra sling

like man eggs kept young and beyounce

[keep goingplease theres a bit more]

so that we can sing

and bring in

the new year

2012

and the Mayan apocalpse*
[upadte from the future: insert The Rapture' for Mayan apocalpse because it sadly didnt happen but theres still plenty of good reasons to be a prepper.]

The end.

Copyright helene Smithee

1st January 2011

Wise words ofwinter wisdom #1 by Helene Smithee

Christmas for all (reducks) by Helene Smithee

Well, im sorry to my woefull fans and guru worshippers that i have been so lackadasisical with the popular blogging. I hope you have not been limp ,depressed waifs like wilting lettuce in the absess of my heartfelt, life afframing wisdom but I have not been here to Cher my great, wondrous, awe invecting words and for that oh children ones I am humanel;y sorry.
 

 For  i have been on a mauve oneness retreat, touching myself with the knowledge of the angles of the lavendar Goddess temple in Totness (I didnt see the monster though) venturing into the indogo zone of self examination and rebirth and like the Hamish I have not been using technollogy, buttons or hairdressers ( though I didnt use them anyway because they are boring failed travel agenst - ";where are you going on holiday they say'" - " it is non of there busyness where I go on my urine drinking detox." I reply angrgily but still serene in the universe.) for mine aims are pure and i don't want to get bran cancer from electricity and bad negative energie vibes and hatspeech that i have encunterd on the social networking forhems.

But lo! What is that light from yonder star? It is a flicker of inspiration,,,a divine celesteal glowing of joyous winter soklstice -  hope in the darkness for soon we embark on our return ticket into the light, like blinking fleas emerging from the weave of a matted dog and on unto springh. FANFARE: !!

 

Here is a poem that I posted on my facebook fanzine page last Christmas, and before that on myspace, but it is still relephant now because Chrstmas is always the same every year.

A Christmas For All 

The mass of Christ, 

the man child; God's sun

innocent baby, placed in a manger 

in swaddling in Bethlehem.

here the winter soltice; the shortest day

of our European winter

we bring in the green leaves

of mother earth our goddess

now cowed by the coldness of winter

and the dessert of ice

she has lost all but the hardiest 

of her evergreen tresses

but lo, a light, any light

a star, afar, 

or a fireplace in a welcoming hearth

brings hope to our cold, lonely travellers

Come in ye, whether ye be Kings or shepherds

the Christ child or a Big issue seller,

It is Christmas, there's no time to be afraid

Welcome in the warmth of love

into thine hearts, your hearths

there is room in our inn for you

thou will not be left without; we can share

and so like the inn keepers of old

who ushered in the virgin

and the carpeneter

into that cave of cows and beasts of burden

where the message of the angel Gabriel came true,

not the fantasy of an adulterous whore

trying any means to avoid being stoned,

no, that promise was met

and into the world we welcomed Christs joy,

Gold, Frankinscience and myrrh were given,

and we give gifts to each other,

for we know not what we do,

share and share alike, a light tells us it is so,

happiness this Christmas 

and the brightness filling of the world,

that is the gift, the gift of Christmas

we feast and rejoice - we are full of it

Eskimos hold hands with red Indians

and play ring- o-ring -roses

on Christmas cards and so it shall be,

we feed the world; do they know it's Christmas?

those poor waifs who do not know how to read

or play in festive snow,

twinkling in the Dickensian moonlight, 

or even how to operate a PS3?

For this is Christamas, 

war is over and what have you done?

Hark the bells and the pipes of peace,

English and germans play football together,

par ap a pap pum for the boy child,

We are all walking in the air,

but some of us are looking at the stars,

a star, in the east. 

Happy Christmas everyone.

and love to you all.

Amen.

Copyright  Helene Smithee 2009

Here is a picture of some cup cakes I have orded for my party. They look yumyy don't they?!
 I lik lots of cream i am glad the cup cake cooker hasnt been mingy with the cream. my mouth is sal;ivation just looking at them. Mmmmmmmmmm.

Happy Holedays everyone. Hugs.xxxx