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Some of these poems contain language and subjects that are considered adult oriented, which means they deal with sexual issues. The language is nothing you wouldn't hear in junior high school, but I wanted to warn anyone so they won't be offended. If you would like poetry suitable for children click here to go to Embracing the Child.
Here are some of my poems and an index. It is all one file, so you can either read it by scrolling down, or by clicking on the name of the poem in the index and going directly to that poem.
After you read them if you have anything you want to say to me 
These poems are all copyright 1998 Raven Joy.
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Coyote Women
Howling
Coyote women
so long silent
watching the men leave nightly
doors crashing shut
now is our time
come leave your den
the pups sleep sound
follow through forest dark
meadow beckoning
howl
now is the time
grow paws
fur
howl at the moon
voices rising
howl the breakfast uncooked
howl the dirty windows
lovers here and gone
children crying
howl the bleeding earth
broken bodies
quarrels
countries friends
fighting
howl the moon rising
unleash the passion
bound
so long silent
the time is now
howl for life
In my madness I see clearly to the center
I scream in pain until it becomes the reality
I dream across the universe
The ocean waves crash against my body
In my madness I howl with the wild coyotes
running in the moonlight
in winter
My dreams cross boundaries
taking me silently to other realms
of being
colors shift endlessly
nothing remains the same
In my madness I have hunted the dark shadow
following through deep damp caves
leading to sunlit meadows
periwinkles blooming azure
beneath the ruby sun
In my madness I have gone beyond
where you dared to go
and danced with faery queens
on full moon nights
In my madness I have watched
with the eyes of all beings
the earth wounded
I cry in pain
In my madness I live between the worlds
walking gently on the turquoise cobblestones
drinking of the thick sweet nectar
of the passion flower
watching violet stars shoot through
the cornflower sky
landing at my feet
traveling the cold barren space between
I am no longer afraid
I have explored the darkest passageways of my mind
and become familiar with the hidden corners
pushed through the cobwebs
In my madness my eyes sparkle with emptiness
and the joy of meaningless life
I have seen your future
In my madness is revealed your madness
In my madness I have touched your soul
Walking barefoot,
the earth reaches up
to caress
my naked feet.
Not at all
like the flat shoes
on concrete
I wore this morning.
In Barbara’s mirrors
I am rainbows
moving patterns of color
changing moment
by moment
everywhere I dance in symphonies
of violet and blue
yellow green red
indigo
In Barbara’s mirrors
I am myself reflected
and shattered into
my elemental colors
my soul reveals itself
In Barbara’s mirrors
I am prisms of light
I dance
broken apart my pieces
shift and change
building new shapes
and formations endlessly
I drift behind the scenery
eyes peering from all directions
I see myself reflected
in the silence
In silence,
my wings unfold.
I fly down the canyon.
Trail markers
become stone Buddhas.
I bow.
Moonshine slowly creeps
down the river canyon.
I await the full moon.
I own that stretch of the Yuba River
from Purdon the Edward’s Crossing
many years now
I have walked her banks
slept on her sand
hiked her trails
lain on her rocks
talked to her squirrels
swam in her waters
I am the river
water flowing gently in the summer
fiercely raging in the winter
changing and yet the same
the rocks with their warm people spots
I lie on
year after year when the water drops
I know what it is like to be a
river rock
feeling the tourist walking to the beach
warm in the day
cold at night
I talk to the squirrels
they come to me wrinkling small noses
knowing I belong here
never afraid
swimming naked in the warm summer pools
I am the river
flowing downstream
leaving the past behind
So how can you
in your fancy clothes
stand there and tell me
you own the river
and that you are planning
to gouge roads & move rocks
& build dams
& put up signs
telling me to go home
& let you rape my beloved
Do you really believe
I will let you do that?
water healing
sound
rushing
current
carry me down stream
tucked under your breast
caress me
take my body
Yuba flowing
changing
through granite rocks
mother’s body I lay on
warm you nourish me
tender I turn
to hold
hot smooth
molding to
my shape I lie naked
accept your hot tongue
warm skin ecstasy
Yuba Yuba I am yours
fill me
spent plunge
cold water
hurling downstream
head under wet cool
delight swimming
round
flowing
Yuba
flowing
downstream
flowing
Yuba
I can remember
small flashes
even now
the feel of deerskin
sound of beads and bells
feet pounding the mother
with love
singing
drumming
I have danced many lifetimes
long nights of prayer
and celebration
songs in many tongues
songs before there were words
dancing through the continents
all skin colors were mine
then
the dancers on stage stop
they file off
the show ended
I am left
(longing)
this lifetime
empty
watching dancers
on stage
my feet long to pound circles
in the soft red earth
singing all night
I am short on family
given away at birth
to a mother and father who died
some time ago
my mother hated family
mad demands she told me
that goes for friends too
better to be by yourself
she felt burdened by her husband
and we as children never were what she wanted
I search now for family
grabbing hold of neighbors, friends
anyone I find making them part of me
as I lose my way in this half a
nuclear family I belong to
one woman and a six-foot teenage son
no winners
no one to go to for comfort during
disagreements
on Mothers Day 1992
visiting my oldest son Mike and his
woman Terry
one white one black I love them both
she has told everyone in their Sacramento
apartment house
“Michael’s Mother is coming tomorrow,”
and after I arrive they stop by
to meet me
one by one
the electricity goes out
high wind announcing our presence
we bar-b-que chicken on the balcony
sharing with neighbors our good fortune
being here with my lover of three years now
Terry’s Mom calls Mothers Day morning
“Praise the Lord, your son is such a blessing,”
she tells me over the telephone
I give thanks for my new family
Later I see a vision for the future
in extended families we create ourselves
apartment houses as tribal relations
if our mothers fathers sisters brothers
aunts uncles cousins husbands wives sons daughters
cannot be with us
grab hold to your neighbor
after all you live together
take your friend by the hand
become family
never knowing my birth relations
maybe it is easier for me to know
family is not who bore you
but who you are with
family is us
brothers and sisters
animals plants rock
children of our Mother Earth
do not let them slip away
For Marlene
I remember when we were in grade school
dancing together on stage
often mistaken for sisters
I used to count backward to see if your mother
could have born me in secret
even then I wanted to belong to you
playing at your house
I would imagine I lived there
being with you
day after day
later when we were
teenaged mothers together
your daughter Barbarella
my son Michael
your husband Lowell
my husband nowhere around
you asked me to make love to your husband
and I did but only because
I loved you
and what I loved most
laying together in your big bed
sharing our lovers
were those times laying naked beside you
when I could turn to caress your body
and kiss your soft skin
we never made love
but I wanted you more than them
lying there in your arms
but men being men
I lost you
he took you away to the farthest shore
he could find
on a military base
surrounded by dangerous replicas
of cocks
I think of you now & then
wondering if I found you
would I tell you I love you
and suck your soft breasts
kissing you lower and lower
until I lick my lover’s cum from between
your warm thighs
Owl looked through Raven,
past the tiny black feathers
barely visible above the arm hairs.
He had always looked at her that way.
He told her she looked
like a rock to him,
as if the feathers were mere
illusion.
the snowstorm
covered all traces
of my past life
I remember you best, Mother
when we were
hunting wildflowers
Questioning young adolescents,
impatient
ask, “ Why aren’t there any good books here?”
I laugh.
“You haven’t looked.
There’s more good books than
TV programs.”
“NO WAY!!!”
they chorus
I drag book after book
off the shelf,
finally matching book to child.
I hate it when they ask for a
short book.
Not a good book,
or a fun book,
or a book to sit enchanted
hour after hour,
they way they play Nintendo.
I try to explain relative time.
Good books read faster
than short dull ones,
but they can’t hear me,
minds too tuned to the
airwaves.
I try to explain freedom,
and choice,
pointing out that there are more
books than channels,
reading can be done anytime,
anywhere,
not regimented to time and
place
like factory workers.
They don’t hear me,
Sad when they leave, I wonder
if they will ever learn the
joy of imagination,
once the playground of children,
now kept alive
by poets
and librarians.
The TV tells me productivity is making
lots of little styrofoam boxes
to put dead meat raised on
graveyards of mystical forests
and I am supposed to believe.
The TV tells me productivity
is tearing up the earth
murdering more trees
to build houses so large the people
living in them never even
have to talk to each other
and I am supposed to believe.
The TV tells me productivity
is getting in my car every day
destroying the air
driving on crowded freeways & boulevards
to a job doing something
that doesn’t need to be done
or to the store to buy
things
that don’t need to be bought
and I am supposed to believe.
The TV tells me productivity
is trying to get all I can
without worrying what my overconsumption
is doing to the beings of the earth
and I am supposed to believe.
I do not believe I am better
than all the other life forms
of the universe
and that I have a right to destroy
any being who gets in my way
or mountain
or river
or desert.
I just want to grow holy ganja in the wilderness
spend a day watching the last leaves fall
from a black oak tree
play my drum and howl in the night
sit all day by the river grooming my friends
lay naked on warm rocks
sing while the sunset falls glowing crimson
into the canyon
listen to the wind
and laugh on into the cold crisp darkness
as the water flows by laughing
on its way to the sea.
In this I believe
and I will keep believing
and reach out and touch you hand
and you will know I believe in love
in compassion
in laughter
in kindness
in beauty
in song.
ay yah ay yah
Oct. 22, 1991-Nov. 19, 1991
sitting in the waiting room at the clinic
for my own son to have tests done on his heart
man with broken ankle
outside in the back of a car
I do not understand
Oak
I called your name in the forest
rain drenching my hair I screamed to the universe
Oak
I do not understand
I felt your mother’s heart beating through your body
I was glad then
your health so visible
I rejoiced in your birth
swift as a falling acorn
you came into life
I do not understand
Oak
when I heard of your heart
not whole
not enough to carry you through to the pain of life
I cried
I prayed to all the Goddesses
“Come Quick”
I summoned
the White Tara hovered
strength of Black Oak forest
flowed through my veins
Oak
I cried to the rain-soaked night
I do not understand
Peeing back at the same place
where I’d just shed menstrual blood
on the rocks,
the beetles were still fucking.
How could she resist,
sitting alone in her ivory tower,
when he came riding up
on his stallion of words
and swept her trembling
into his arms
whispering poems to her body?
there are no signposts
ma
here on the edge
i don't know which way to turn
i burn
in so many directions
i don't know which way to turn
there are no signposts
ma
here on the edge
what can i do
where can i go
there are so many direction
i don't know which way to turn
i burn
in so many directions
there are no signposts
ma
here on the edge
lost
in the fringe
of the universe
who am i
who am i
who am i
who am i
there are no signposts
ma
here on the edge
who am i
who am i
who am i
I see how he makes you so sad
I want to take you into my arms
taste your tongue in my mouth
feel your moist cunt
lick blond hairs
suck your hot wetness
between your legs
make you come
mouthing my name
you will not call to him in the night
I will be there
turn and kiss me
I will cleanse all traces of him
from your dreams
then I will bring my lover
he will thrust his throbbing cock
into your pussy and
I will lick his cum out
each drop bitter sweet
How To Create A Homeless Person
We do very well here in the woods
thank you.
If you are a good person
someone will always let you
pitch a tent
pull in a trailer
unroll your bed
under the stars
and the property owners
for the most part
go easy on the land
building houses to fit the scenery
hidden from the road
and passers-by
beauty becomes an important part
of the home
it is safer here
than in the cities
we visit each other in our
unique homes
playing music
gathering together
we are rich in beauty
friends and love
then the state
(county)
(government)
(big
brother)
comes along
they don't like poor people
as if the economy is our fault
just leaving more for them
I like to say
they find a mother and her children
living in an
ILLEGAL
house on her own property
warm, cozy no threat to society
and evict her
from her home
you could live in a tent
or a trailer
or a car
they say
but not your home
you haven't paid us enough money
so you should be forced
to wander the streets
for pennance
tears flowing from eyes
they wander
holding their begging bowls
tight against their chests
not yet accustomed
to the straw sandals
can you help them
can you help them struggle
against the multinational
corporations
who want us obedient
and under their control
as they plunder, rape and murder
the earth and her peoples
clutch tight your begging bowl
you are next
the minute you get out of line
or the boss you work for
no longer needs you
the roof over your head
is no more secure
than the newspaper
covering the old man
in the park
how long will you let them
take away your freedom
for your own good
while the homeless wander
your dreams
and the earth slowly dies
I am tired
eternally tired
of writing soft lines &
pastel images
when the dark red blood
is pouring out on the ground
sometimes I cry just to
water down the blood
to help me
see
those in control feed on hatred
& greed
there is no room for love
& compassion
clutch tight your begging bowl
you could be next
look
her twisted body lies
below
the blood
matting to the fur
her tongue
protrudes
eyes not yet dead
her heart
torn from her chest
devoured
by lions
thrown into the
raging fire
her spirit blackens
and flies
upward
in flames and cinders
until Raven
circles above
looks down
and
flies off
I whirl, blue and purple
flashing against the
mirrors
drumbeat pulsing,
I spin
turn and vanish into the
world between
my blue skirt sailing
turquoise
shadows
through the sideways
twists of time
until
I vibrate blue and purple
just the right speed &
you can see me now
I am dancing right in front of you
and as you catch my eye
I slow
motion
turning
now until I whisper
notes of blueness and
my purple blouse slows
the flowers falling
at
my feet
my eyes meet yours
I smile
the pleasure
of the dance
my pleasure
I smile at you
your pleasure
our eyes meet
we turn
hands outstretched to meet
our bodies turn
I fall
into your breath
the dance
is pleasure
I hold your tongue
against mine
we
touch
our eyes search into past lifetimes
touching
our bodies meet
we dance
the mirrors holding us
our bodies
meet
we
dance
our lovemaking
ignites the stars
we dance
between the worlds
the walls
dissolve.
We are free.
as it gets later
the dancers recognize each other
through the spaces between
the non-believers
have gone home
only the faithful remain
they will dance
until the end
until the music
stops
there is no possibility
they could stop dancing
now
while the music still plays
they are on fire
the flames of the dance
crackle at the edge
of their rhythm
they close together
as the spaces between
grow closer
only the faithful remain
we circle now
small individual circles
at first
but joining
and growing
we reach out and touch
hand to hand
until we are all one
and we dance
the stars circling slowly
overhead
our dance encloses
the flames unite
shoot skyward
our light
dims the stars
we dance
we love
we hold each other tight
the music never stops
Coyote Woman Becomes Raven--Part II
she staggers back
the arrow piercing her breast
she screams
the sound turns to wings
beating the air
shiny black feathers become visible
raven circles overhead
her blood congeals
on the pavement
where is the dark earth
waiting to take the lifeblood
why here
in this barren parking lot
she cries
as raven circles overhead
her mind wanders
past and future become present
cedar trees bend to lift her gently
their soft needles
comforting her with familiar scent
raven circles overhead
now she is soaring herself
the trees have thrown her clear
of the heartbreak & desolation
raven dances beside
arms thrown out
shiny black feathers
appearing
tiny at first then growing
to catch the wind
she smiles at raven
they circle around
each other
becoming
mirrors of dark light
they merge
into a single point
then vanish
leaving only
one shiny black
feather
behind
sexy men wear skirts
showing the outline of their cocks
gently hidden
beneath folds of supple cloth
free they wander
through our imagination
unclothed
naked
men
ancient years of women
pounding
talking
singing
loving
grinding the food
abundance of oaks
acorns
feeding the winter hunger
with warmth
pounding
each hole
over
and
over
year
after
eon
life
after
life
circles of remembering
long forgotten
now
rock
still friend
women
and children
playing and talking
laughing and resting
feeling the others
ages of women
pounding talking
laughing
together
circles warm
remembering
Prayer at Pyramid
Lake
for the unrespectful
forgive them
for they know not holy ground
when they walk upon it
with their feet
and they can not hear
the singing of the rocks
over the sound
of their radios
I can not set the mousetraps any more,
yet I stay in the same house with them,
pretending I am not involved
in this slaughter
yet I am the one who listens
to their death
while nightmares
fueled by TV violence
disturb my slumber
and I am the one
who stares into their
dead pleading eyes
while tossing the body
the evidence
of the bloody deed
off the balcony.
Eat well predators of the forest,
I chant as I toss thiss addition to the food chain
back to its source.
I can't stare at the eyes long enough
to pop them in the freezer
so Star can skin them out later
to make mouse mittens
for children
so that their deaths might not be
in vain.
She doesn't set the traps either,
but still we are the ones
who stay
and listen to their
deaths at night
deluding ourselves
we are not involved.
[Raven
Joy's World] [Friends]
[Alternative Health] [Live
Cams]
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Place] [Spirit] [My
Poetry] [My Songs] [Calendar]
[Art and Poetry at the
Virtual Cafe] [Music
Stage] [Festivals]
[Contact]