Green Loves


In Allen Ginsberg’s Green Valentine
he writes about a single leaf
growing wild on a vine
in the shape of a heart

And I say, “eureka”
with an aroused 4th chakra,
the Emerald Tablet we all possess
beat-by-beat, inside our breasts
a single leaf growing in the sunshine
eglantine, ivy vine—Green Valentine
blessed, yes, blessed

leaf in the shape of a heart, let’s follow it
like a lone stone as it leapfrogs across
the surface of a glacial lake, let us follow it

as the needle comes to land
on the spotted owl’s swan song, hourless sand
sardonic and ironically alarmic
as an endangered animal, ringtone
we can all download for free
on our disposable smart phone
hoho hehe haha
let’s follow it off the grid, into the wilderness,
have a heart-to-heart with Carmanah Rain
ancient spirit by name, same epitaph as home.

But at the heart, this is a Green Valentine—love poem
to the sky brimming with migrating Canadian geese
a-hink-a-honk-a-hink-a-honk above so beyond peace,
to the crazy ecstasies of Salmon on the run
as they leap the rapids, to their birthplace
balancing silver scales in the sun, to spawn
before giving themselves back to the river
birth and death both deliver, biorhythms anon
and this is a love poem to the protestors
struggling to preserve Salmon ratatatat habitat—

I belong to their life~
and they to mine, this is a love poem
rife with passion, and instinctive action
devoid of battle, finish, or bottom line

it is a love poem to those who question crop circles
who march to protect Sea Turtles,
ki to sacred geometry,
to those who have run with horses
and spoken with birds
who have laid down on a bed of moss
on mushrooms maybe, and shared dreams
with the oak grove’s hallowed cross, leyline-to-leyline,
who have wept for beauty and for hoodoo ethos
and this is to those who listen to the pathos of bees

[Biorhythms from the Biosphere]

And this is a Green Love Poem @ 180°
to those who have said stop, stop
clear cutting our hearts with your chain
saws. We see the blood on your hands;
to the sea green hearts who demand
they stop destroying our land
and our water with fiscal lust, greed
nuclear burial sites and the creepy
monopoly of the holy seed

this is to those not caught in the trap of lust
in the spender-bender of snap
divisions; boom or bust,
with no adhesive hearts
to bait filling shopping carts
can’t buy me love
…unless it’s at a clearance sale.

This is to those who cast runes of fate
instead of hurling stones of hate
before later becomes too late—

[Planck epoch/ Planck epoch / Planck epoch]

This is for Green man
to algae pearls, and greenish girls,
from mother through child to great—akin
for she has skin of muse, fuse green
she is barefoot, with all of her legs dancing in motion
and all of her arms, extended in devotion
turning ocean, chorus
she is eco ouroboros

gold bangles on each of her green ankles
and when she dances her Duende, you can hear
the shells and the bells of her jangles ring
and as she turns, they too turn to sing
high-pitched, like an arbutus tree as it peels
it’s own bark, in the spring
or the Aurora Borealis, as it echoes
across the sky releasing
a high spirit cry, a luminous sigh

she is Emerald Isle
and all the while, she is the wish you wish,
you wished upon, a lost penny
small change that got away

she is woman made of moon, Luna
love’s signature tune, streamlined tuna
green apple and ripe pear, she is Eros lightning
beyond polarities despair, she is orphic egg
and I hear, she whistles while she works—

her name could be Silent Exclamation
she is the outspoken child held in condemnation,
shot for wanting an education,
she is a depiction of all humanity, near extinct
sane and insanity, we are all linked
together, huia feather, in time.

And I croon to her
and I’ll bet she tastes of mint, her scent a fresh-picked sage
as she dances she turns every age, into an ancient song
chartreuse, she orbits erelong, while sipping primordial juice

and when she dances, and she has scores of two left feet
waltzing circles around things unseen;
anatomic green, in elliptical solar heat
she is the alternative, fragile as the coral reef
she is Walden’s pond
standing at the edge of time
watching psychedelic dragon flies
as they dart around

she is a solitary drop of dew
profound on a single leaf,
and she is one sweet breath
of relief,
and she is me and she is you
in a world pressed
between the pages of a book
waiting to be cracked
open, to new
ways of seeing
of being—

heart in the shape of a leaf


The young man says: Better get it done, cause I’m not going to be young forever

Older woman replies: Me too, cause I’m not going to be old forever!
(be or do, be or do, be or do)

Green Loves, is dedicated to David Suzuki.
The piece was written in 2012 for “Turning Point,”
celebrating Chris Turner, and the Green Party.
On November 17, Sheri-D (w/ Lin Elder ) shared the stage
with Kris Demeanor, Jay Ingram (w/Scrutineers), Elizabeth May,
David Suzuki, and Chris Turner—in a life-changing event!

~ Sheri-D Wilson

Sheri-D Wilson is a poet, performer, film-maker, educator, producer and activist. She founded the Calgary Spoken Word Poetry Festival in 2003 which has become the largest spoken word festival in North America. Since 2007 Wilson has mentored artists as Program Director of the Spoken Word Program at The Banff Centre. Her poetry collection Re:Zoom, won the 2006 Stephan G. Stephansson Award for Poetry, and was shortlisted for the CanLit Award. Her newest poetry collection Goddess Gone Fishing for a Map of the Universe is a work that uses QR codes to bridge the gap between poetry and technology.

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