Ther Vine Keeper

"The Vine Keeper . . . messages in poetry & prose" by William S. Peters, Sr. is an Epic offering of Bill's writing. It is 439 pages of a truly transformative work. The Book Size is 8 by 10 Perfect for just $29.95 . . . makes a great Gift of Love and Spirit for the Seeker.
For more of Bill's Books and CDs visit or

Now Available

Now Available
The Vine Keeper

Now Available

Words and Voice of 'just bill'

pay it forward

Donate to World Healing ~ World Peace Poetry 2014 Distribution

Total Pageviews

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

my soul i give

my soul i give

the road i travel
be right, be wrong
like many a men
i long for song

my heart, my dreams
upon my sleeve
sunshine and wonder
my magic i weave

i frolic, i dance
indulgent in joy
my cares cast aside
i am but Love’s boy

a child within
i’ve come for the play
i ask thee dear friend
what is your way

i wrest’e
with demon
i’ve yet to face
for fruit i vie
of sweetest taste

i dream no more
i choose to live
right here, right now
my soul i give

i dream no more
i choose to live
right here, right now
my soul i give

© 27 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

Monday, November 26, 2012

This Night

This Night

it was a Full Moon Night,
clear and cold
and Winter was making
its processional presence felt

how i longed for a warm body
to be in my bed
waiting for me
with a warm heart
that we may share
the influences
a Full Moon brings

my tides were moving
and there seemed to be
no soothing
any where to be found
here on earth

a midnight dew lays upon the grass
and is frosting over
glistening like twinkling stars
reflecting the Holy luminescence
of this Moon, this night
sharing it’s brilliance
with all the world
of those of us
who are grounded
that we too
would know of the heavens
and come to realize our expectations

this night
this Moon

© 25 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

Thursday, November 22, 2012

i die daily . . .

i die daily

it was July 2, 2006
when your Mother left us
. . . for you

for me
it was December 19, 2003
when the Biopsy . . . came back
and we were told
it was Cancer

Something in me died that day
and ever since
that fateful day
i die daily
without fail

in every thought
i have had since then
the very smell
the very taste
was and is tainted
with that memory

all the trips to the Doctors
and their suspect reassurance
that Hodgkin’s Lymphoma
was the best of Cancers to get
yet . . .

ha ! it all ends the same
eventually . . .  doesn’t it ?

that is the cynic in me
who sees a different reality
at times

JoJo aka Wynston was 3
just stopped nursing
not too long ago
he was still attached to her

Wesley was 5
and discovering his Boy-Hood
and he is still “Wild and Crazy”
talented too

Myiya, 7
such a sweet baby girl of mine
with smiles bigger than sunshine

Monii, 9
a delicate flower
who probably needed Mommy the most
so it seemed

and Marian, Marian, Marian .. . 9
intelligent and strong outward appearance
but i knew that inside
there was turmoil
and the lack of understanding
as to why . . . just like me
and the rest of us

Melody, 11
the sensitive Muse
perhaps confused
lacing her anguish in language
between her thoughts
tears and poetic verse

Billy, 14
he was honest and raw
He did not like what he saw.
He wanted to be the “MAN”
fix it all
as he walked off
his pain and convolution
no solutions  . ..

Micole, 16
the eldest
she was the One
the first One
and i can only imagine
her deep fears
and hidden tears
for her best friend
her oldest friend
was saying her goodbyes

Mommy . . .  i die daily

the tears could not fix it
nor did the prayers

God saw fit
to have her exit
this realm of existence
without even an explanation

that damn equation did not work for me
it seems that the summation
is all wrong
for a beautiful song
was coming to a close
and from that day on
to today

and for tomorrow
our sorrow is still before us
and i die daily

on another hand
understand this
that i am happy
that you all have each other
Sisters and Brothers
to remind you of the Gift left behind
and whom you love
and what love is
i hope you find

i wish it could have been me
in lieu of Mommy
so you
would not have had
to suffer through this
and yes, i miss her too
achingly true

and each day since
i have died daily
i have no defense
to the deference
life affords us

i have died for her
for you too
but that would not do
for you
nor for me

you see
we all are still pained
a deep one
from which we can not hide
nor forget
yet we still must live on
even though
she is gone

and despite the 10 Thousand times
i have died
the countless millions of tears
i have cried
and all the lies
i have told my self
there is not a lasting consolance
save my delusions

yet the contusions continue to add up
mixed with the confusion
as to why
which is why
i die daily
to escape
the non waning pain
of absence
in her absence and yours

but in the end
we all will cross over
and perhaps . . . just perhaps
there is some truth
to what they say
that some day
we shall all rejoice
and lift our voices
to the heavens
and we shall meet again

and my friend
i hope this is irrefutable
a immutable truth
for all mankind

and the truth is
though i have defied death
denied death
cried at the casket
a lasting tear
and fasted
we must overcome our fears
for death
it is but a breath away

and as i am saying here
in the end
if you are not willing to die
you are not willing to live

we must face death
that we may embrace life
so with a great honor
to life
i die daily

© 22 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

I am thankful this day for so many things on so many levels. I am thankful for the experience of having the opportunity to have encountered such a wonderful soul in this “Life Path”. I am thankful for the Children we bore together  . .. the Fruit of our Vine. I am thankful for the memories, and i am prayerful that age will not steal them all from me. I am thankful for where i am this day in spite of what has transpired in my life, for today i do clearly understand the meaning of “THANKFULNESS”. I am thankful for what ever course lies before me. It is not that things will get better nor worse, but i will have the experience to add unto my soul. I am thankful for my intent and my “Knowing” that i can choose to LOVE  . . . that is a gift for sure, for in the absence of time, Love Prevails still.

This poem may appear to be a difficult one to express, but my Lorde thank you for Poetry, for it is truly a “Healing Balm” for myself, and hopefully for others as well as we tell our stories through verse or hear them through the verse of others.

Today i am Thankful for all things . . .  that which i long for, for i know that i am alive for i desire and have passion. Each day i pick my Life up again on the awakening and i begin anew. Let us face Death boldly that we may appreciate Life. I die Daily !


Inner Child Press is very pleased to announce that "Healing Through Words" is now available for FREE Download. You may download as a PDF or view it as a Flip Book as well. We ask that you PLEASE SHARE this work as much as you are so inclined, for there are many of our Brothers and Sisters of Humanity that may be in need  of a GOOD Word.
We have also arranged to provide a $6.95 discount for the Printed Book below the AMAZON Retail Cost.
Would like to sincerely offer our Gratitude to all those who have contributed their Words in Poems, Prose, Prayers and Stories to the cause.

Healing Through Words

Healing Through Words : FREE  Download :

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

in passing through

in passing through

it was a semi-still
quasi-silent night

there is no baby Jesus
unless i birth him

November 18th, 2012
is the description set
not in stone
at 11:30 something PM

it is not too cold
the air is not moving
save from my exhalations
as i smoke my last cigarette
for this day

the drying autumn leaves
are softly rustling
acknowledging my breath
that which i give to them
that they may breath
in their waning moments of life

a dog with no rivals
barks and pierces my consciousness.
all he wants perhaps is . . .
the world to notice

in passing through

© 18 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

and i am confirmed

and i am confirmed

each day i awaken
to the malleable dream
and the thread of my breath
beaded with heart beats
adorns the neck of my wonder
choking away any of my disbeliefs
that i am the creator
pf the path i travel

and i am confirmed

20 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Light Bender

Light Bender

i am not awestruck
at your ability
to bend the Light

Teachers, Preachers
and Dogma Creatures
have done that for years
regardless of the tears
we have shed
as we faced our fears
and that which was added unto us
a few cubits of shush
and slush
that only validated
their falsities
creating for us
new realities
to believe in

but that which is
in valid
with its in-valid-ic foundation
can not stand
do you understand

so tell me Light Bender
are you like a ’61 Cadillac Fender
you ask us to give
that we may live
in your conjured heaven
where the bread is unleavened
and nothing else rises as well

do tell
where is this hell you spoke of
save but within me
for your anadicrotic musings
evades my autocracy
and that can not be

and this plutocracy
you call a democracy
with only a select few at the helm
has failed the people
yet the Bells in the steeple
still ring
for we are waiting
for a pleurolithic epiphany
to save us

preach to me preacher
teach me teacher
how to save my self
for that which you promised
has tarried a bit too long
even with Faith

the people are hungry . . . NOW !

you feed us more
technocratic poisons
for our souls
as we amend
unto the new slavocracy

pragmatically speaking
i have never seen a good “cratic”
save a pantisocracy
yet oh Light Bender
you defend your way
as “THE WAY”

no, i am not awestruck
by your Lightening
nor is it frightening
any more
for there are new doors being opened
to a consciousness
beyond understanding
for the Soul of us Common Man
has been demanding it
and shit
like always
the Universe Answered

Oh Light Bender
Bend that Light

© 18 November 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.


my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

i am but a leaf

i am but a leaf

leaves age through the season
and fall from the Tree of Life
only to serve life
and it’s newness of expression

each leaf is a singular
within the collective
as are we

the distinguishing factors
are but illusions
of self entombed realities
they serve our esteems
our dreams
and how life seems
to be

this is not to say
their existence is
as they are liberated of their burdens
to breathe life
unto life

but in a thousand years
time 1000
who shall remember the likes of
Johnson and Johnson

will we “Look” to magazines
or will we have forgotten them as well

“Time” tells all secrets
in whisperings
through the knowing of the Soul
that all things do pass
but stay the same

me . . .  i am but a leaf

© 19 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.


my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

Sunday, November 18, 2012

it’s all in your hands

it’s all in your hands

i will no longer cower in shadows
seeking to vainly hide
from the world about me
the world i have created

i shall seek out
the reflective pools of my consciousness
that i may see the wonder of my being
for i am a creator
of my own destiny
my attitude
and my
it is all elective
is it not

through out the ages
we have forgotten
that garden
from whence we were spawned

was not my maker “prefect”
the Prefect of all that is beautiful

as i have far too long tarried
looking through what i once thought
Rose Colored Glasses
only to see they too
were defective
but did serve the purpose
a service unto my Soul’s truth

we all know there is more
open the door for me
for you
will you

i have unshackled my mind
defragmented my scattered thought
i am focused
no longer blinded
by the light of falsities
i am the cause
where i once was the casualty

i am awakening
forgiving my own forsaking
of the beauty that i am
you are
we are

and by far
i have yet to re-discover
or uncover
the whole of it all

the calling came
i at one time did not listen
the Stars were glistening
for that reckoning
i / we now embrace
that which we must indeed face

can you taste the sweet promise of it

i am dancing in the light these days
as i have discovered the old ways
of my youth

the Sooth Sayers spoke of this
this bliss
when we / you / i
learn to kiss our selves again

come my brother . . .my friend
let the procession begin
come out of the shadows
for time is waiting
on you
it’s all in your hands

© 18 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.


my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

for today . . .”I AM”

for today . . .”I AM”

this day i have awaken
again to a new life

it is a new day
and i have been reborn
as have i
so many times before

i look to the rising of the Sun
and i become the Dawn
for i am of accord

my eyes squinted
for the light of truth
is too much
for this earthly vessel
so my soul lets in a bit at a time

my eye is affixed to the prize
and in the reflective grandeur
i see myself
i see Life
i see God
and i become
the Love of all things

for today . . .”I AM”

© 18 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

Sunday, November 11, 2012

untitled journey

untitled journey

there is a noise
that is becoming louder
drowning out the consciousness
i once held
about life
and what it was

i feel like i am
beginning to remember
. . . me !

it started as a friendly whisper
dancing in my
thought to be
a once firm foundation
of the summation
of who i thought i was

yes, i am beginning to remember

there is a distant childhood feeling
that stands at my side
i am the shadow of it’s glow
and i know
for certain
i am so much more
i was before
were not you . . . too ?

and the noise has my attention
not to mention
my passion
to understand
what is being spoken
to me
to you perhaps
to man

the plans i made for my life
never did work out right
most times
if it seemed as such
it came with a rife of strife
from my self,
to my children
to my wife
and parents too
and the me in you
if i could but touch me

will the real ‘me’ please stand up
i have a cup with a hole in it
and a broken handle
so sometimes
i can not handle it
but i do endure
for sure
for here i am

and this is my
untitled journey

© 11 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

and they called it Sin

and they called it Sin

we have cloaked ourselves in shadows
for there were Demons amongst us
who hunted us by the “sign” of our glow
for we resonated in the “know”
that we were born to be great

the clarion call has been sounded
the trumpet of Gabriel is no long silent
many hearts do hear

this is not another false alarm
and we are not to be charmed
by those who speak with forked tongues
there is but one choice

our voices must be heard
we must speak that word
that actualizes
the rising of our Chi

we can no longer vilify our selves
nor deify our vanities
let the insanity of past megalomania
be loosed
and the illusion will be no more

the Carpenter is removing the Door
from it’s hinges
they have almost rusted anyway
because of our anguished tears of remorse
and of course
naming and blaming the source
never did reconcile anything
vile or not

we are now remembering
what we thought we forgot
but always knew that we knew

yes, somewhere inside of you
truth still lived

and now it is time
to stand before Life’s Holy Altar
naked and unabashed
for the ship we once sailed
has crashed
at the bottom of the Sea of Forgiveness
and shall never ever be resurrected again
so forget the past
and it’s iconoclastic remnants
of false valor
for false is what it was
an errant implausible cause
we could not win

and they called it Sin

© 10 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

i haven’t the ear to listen

i haven’t the ear to listen

yes, lust i have known
a passion so intensified
that it defied
the things i was taught
as it, my lust vied
for expression

all my chakras were alive
wanting to embrace
the object
of my consuming affections
to become one with it
have fun with it
and you are condemned
by the world of it
for those who have not it
or denied it
envy your need
to be freed
from the confinements
of rules

these are the tools
they us
to keep us unempowered
condemnation and sin
beat into our heads
and thus our spirits
over and over again
until we begin
to believe
that we are the
dastardly bastards of creation
instead of the beautiful expressions
of Source

can man alter the course of God
i think not
but they try anyway
every day
by trying to tell me
what God has to say

why does God speak to them
and not me
it’s no secret . .
is it ? . . .
or is it

Source not only visits me
Source is with me
in all that i am
and when i am
I AM !

and that’s all there is to it
so shit
i shall express my lust
to be of love
of all things
and i shall not let nothing
restrain me
nor forever train me
that i m not love and loved

tell me no more lies
i haven’t the ear to listen

© 11 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

thy sweet flower

thy sweet flower

countless flower petals have fallen
to sweeten the soils of the earth
and the tears from heaven
has concocted an elixir of life
rendering fruits of expectation
for our tables to come

our bellies are full of goodness
and the children dance a dance of plenty
for smiles are unfettered
and have not tethers
save but to the joys of the moment
grab one
add your flavor
and give it back to life
thy sweet flower

© 10 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

Saturday, November 10, 2012

pass through the Gate . . .come

pass through the Gate . . .come

there is a Bow Tied Ribbon
adorning the old gate

it has been tied eloquently
by the delicate hands
of Promise
we are expected

the Tree in the Garden
is bearing a sweet fruit
that the table may be set
and we will sit and dine
once again on a consuming meal
of divine knowledge

the Cherubim who once stood guard
with Sword aflame
has been given leave
for Source now says
we are coming about
to embrace our own truths

we are now capable
of being endowed
with this new trust
as we let old things go

the bindings of our hearts
have been cut, severed
and a softness now encapsulates
what was once hardened
by our ignorance
and misplaced distasteful arrogance

Eternity is dancing with glee
she and her sisters
are dressed for the occasion
with lace and beguiling persuasion
for all doubting souls

the brooks are babbling with joy
feeding the fountains
that lie and wait for us
at the base of our mountains
of expectations
yes it is all true
Eden is waiting for you
to come

let us quench each souls thirst
become inebriated
with a lust for love

our loin cloths
our Fig Leafs
shall be abandoned
for we no longer are ashamed
of our purity
our nakedness
and with an surety that i am
i will stand noble
as the acuity of my 3rd eye
has me
facing the winds of perdition
for i now know
that my Amber-ish Indgo glow
is of a pure light

let us celebrate
the awakening of the Sun
as he-i-u smiles upon us all
while stretching his embrace
from East to West
while kissing our faces
and all the places
within and without
that it has never shined upon before
in this journey

there are no more horizons
to be gathered
nor wished upon
nor mused for
for all dreams
become as we wish
as we are

Fear has uncloaked it’s self
to reveal he and Doubt
were but minions to purpose
giving unto the service
of the ascension
from this dimension
to the next

it was inevitable
can’t you see
that all things work
for the glory of “BE”
so “BE”

be en-joyed
that you may shine
as the Sun-ed One
and we all will see
your glory as well
for you reflect me
and i you

so let us join hearts
join hands
join visions and dreams
it is not as it seems

let us dance
down the path
to actualization
and pass through the Gate . . .come


my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

Friday, November 9, 2012

the seeker of word

the seeker of word

i have searched for the word
that i can write
that would change the world
help us herald
in a new day
a new way
where we can uninhibitedly play
at life

i perspicaciously examine the path i walk
hoping to find “that” blossoming flower
of this consciousness i seek
along the way

the colors of course
on this course
are enchanting enough
and many a time i have stopped
and tarried perhaps a bit longer than i should have

but that is ok
for i took with me
the memories
the smiles
and surely
or should i say “hopefully”
the lesson

i have seen your smiles
and your bent wrinkled brows
as you too sought to understand me
and i you
and we ourselves

and the insightful little elves
who danced in and out of our awareness
spawned us to care less
or more
as they opened  gates
and doors
to news visas
and arenas
we never knew before

over all, things come
when i surmise
and examine
the things that i seek
and that which leaks
from my mouth
before i engage my mind
or moderate

let me disengage my rage
my angst
and speak beautiful
in to life again
and again
until beauty becomes us
becomes a habit
a rite
a rote

and this is the note
i write to my self
when i realize
and open my eyes
as i surmise
that i am but
a seeker of that word


© 9 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

the Icarus Syndrome

the Icarus Syndrome

Icarus, my brother
has never met Ra before
it was not a reachable vestige
of his memory
so . . .
he vied
he tried
and he died
so they say

waxed wings melting
smelting in the light
of the Sun
the Son
or the Father

our own wing’s compositions
does give way
and begin to fray
at the edges
when the fledging ones
amongst us
trust in the variables
we do not understand

blind faith is it
let us visit
this convincible principle
that we are invincible
as we see our selves

who was it that looked in that mirror
and saw a monster
was it Sleeping Beauty’s step mother
who stepped in other worlds
of make believe
only to assist in the conceiving
of her demise
all because of what
she thought she saw
with her eyes

in our driven-ness
our self praised erections
the detections of truth evades us
i trust
or should i just
not trust at all

remember how Icarus did fall
suddenly i would think
having to drink
his own cup of pride
for on the other side
he could not hide
from his vanity

insanity . . . perhaps
but my chaps
this what it is

the Icarus syndrome
no room for drones

© 0 November 2012 : william s. peters, sr.

my Newest Book . . .
“The Vine Keeper . . . messages in Poetry and Prose”
is available at

the Icarus Syndrome

Thursday, November 8, 2012

The Coffee Mug


Look at me . . . look at me please, very carefully. What you see is but a cup, a vessel. I have a purpose, yes, even I have a Divine Blessed Duty . . . Yes, I am but a Coffee Mug! All I do is hold within me the liquid that fortifies your morning life. You could also use me as a Mug for your Teas, but my formal definition is “Coffee Mug”. I am graciously rewarded for providing my services . . . yes, I bet you never thought about me before. You see, each and every day, early in the morning I have the pleasure of touching your lips often, I am held in such a loving manner that words just can not describe. So often you look beyond my nature, for it is what is inside of me that is important to your life . . . but that’s ok with me, for I am still happy to serve !If you have a few moments, I would like to tell you my story . . .


It all started long ago . . . you see, in the beginning I was content to just exist, I had no questions, duties, or any such aspirations in life. I was just a part of the whole, for I was just the Clay of the Earth. Then one day, a harvester came along and separated me from my surroundings and took me to a place where I was washed and cleaned. This was quite a shocking experience, for all that I previously knew and was, was in the process of being changed.

Red Clay

After I was washed of most of my natural qualities I was a part of, I took on a new appearance. Little did I know what was to come! I was then taken to a place where the light was great. You see, all my life before was spent in the darkness and solitude of being a part of the Earth. . . a greater Whole.


There was this other Life Being, He or She took me and started to play with me . . . that felt real good. I was massaged, manipulated, stretched and shaped . I did not mind it too much, but there were times when I was stretched beyond my natural limits and I broke . . . but the hands of my new associate gently put me back together again. Then He /She put me on this ride where I was spinning around and around . . . wow that was fun! As I was spinning I felt myself taking on new and exciting shapes and characteristics. I was rounded and smoothed and tweaked. It was all good until they just ripped a piece of me off of me and put it back. This was done several times. I have later learned that was to become one of my new characteristics . . . yes, I have an arm . . . a handle. Beautiful don’t you think? Now I have the ability to be held, but very gently, for I was still soft inside and out. Little did I know what was to come. My Creator was pleased with me. I watched as they say and admired their Creation . . . ME! Then . . . OMG . . . they put me on a tray and put me in this HOT HOT HOT HOT place . . .OUCH! God was it Hot! I stayed there for what seemed to be an eternity! Then the light came and I was released from that torturous experience. I started to cool down and gather my senses and become aware of my surroundings. Wow, for some reason I felt different . . . I felt strong . . . I felt indestructible ! I had a new firmness about me a new resolution! My arm was no longer weak . . . I could be held with certainty . . . and I was sure of what I had become . . . for I heard my Creator call me . . . a Coffee Mug!


Now I have a defined purpose. And for my service, each day I am held gently and kissed often. I thank you for your love.
I love being a Coffee Mug.
By the way, I am also good with All Teas, Cappuccinos, Espresso, Café Latte, Water, Soda . . . for I am very versatile. I also have many Brothers and Sisters who have similar experiences.
Thank you for listening to my story.
I wish you the same blessings in your life . . .
. . . to discover your purpose !


~ story related by ~
~ Tamika . . . my Daughter ~
Project : “share the love”
~ bill ~

© 2008 : William S. Peters, Sr.