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, December 31, 2013



i worship the ground that i walk upon
for it is holy
as is thine

i cherish the space and time
i have occupied
for many have died
to make it so

and this day i lay my burdens aside
for i need them not
any more

i shall soar to and through
the heavens i dreamed of
i shall embrace the love
i always deserved
that i held from my self
held from you
held for no unknown reason
that i ever knew

from this now forward
i will walk toward
a realization
an actualization
of my higher existence
that will not be constrained
without my resistance

i rebuke the world of lore
this place of darkness
i have traveled before
for in my core
i know
there is more

and i shall worship this moment eternal
where the infernal fires
ever burn
no matter the way i turn

this is within my power of gratitude
and that is my attitude
from here on in
for from this moment
i will not walk this way


© 31 December 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

Happy New Year, Happy New Day

Happy New Year, Happy New Day

i reflectively consider the road now traveled
and the times i have passed through
the memories are mine to keep
of all the thing i still pursue

the year has come, the year has gone
and all that remains is its ether
there is but thoughts that wander about
and my memories as a seeker

many things i did not find, and that is ok
for the task before me still prevails
i am not that rudderless ship wandering
upon life’s seas with empty sails

there is hope in the winds of my heart
and it is the power i hold to transcend
for each year, each moment is but a part
of this journey that has no end

there are many fruits and flowers along this road
for each soul to eat their own fill
it is not by chance that goodness comes to us
it is by our love for the journey by our will

so going forward i must without exception
and may we all be focused on life’s task
and what may fail us in understanding
just go to that God within and ask

Happy New Year, Happy New Day

© 31 December 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

May You New Year be utterly abundant and prosperous beyond understanding

Sunday, December 29, 2013

a day in the life of consciousness

a day in the life of consciousness

i have tasted the meal
offered to me in purgatory
i have traipsed down the pathways of my life
with Demons and Angels alike
i have created rainbows and darkness,
storms and sunshine
according to the will of mine own

i have sown seeds of goodness
in gardens wherever i went
i have also stepped on flowers
and pissed upon Temple walls
and the calls of my soul still prevail

yes the answers evade the world of
small conscious men
such as i

there were times i rebelled
and refused to raise my sails
to catch that good wind
and that is my only sin
each time i turned my back
on self
on that which was  greater
than my small “i”
where my ego lies . . . in lies

i have jaundiced mine own eye
by seeking the way
of the wayward
calling it fun

i have walked away from the Sun
for the light bothered me
and beckoned me to be accountable
when i just wished to be lazy
and party on instead
of letting that guilt in my head

i have endured over the years
the tears
the fears
and the queer little men
who whispered in my ears

there were
many foibles
stumbles & bungles
and out-right fuck ups
and i am no longer surprised
that i am still standing
for i have affirmed with a certainty
that there is
something that exists in me
that is greater than this world

shit . . . i made it this far
not of my own accord
and i held on to no chord
in my discordant ways
all these days

this body ushers forth it’s troubles
in the form of new sensations
aches, pains and questions
every day.

the challenges become numerous
but never overwhelming
for i choose to rise to greet them
face them
displace them
from my joy and gratitude
but sometimes my attitude
is just fucked up

i am not saying that i can not be defeated
but it is unlikely for sure
for within me is a door
i always run to
that opens upon my command
if i can ever remember the words

when i enter that sacred place
that room
where doom does not exist
i exchange my burdens
and i am given
another lesson plan
that is up to me to study
and learn
as i discern
the difference
betwixt that
which is of this temporal illusory experience
and eternal truth

i wrote this poem on day back
titled . . .
“a poem about Everything”
simple it is
and here it is . . .

“everything is”

i probably could expound
and expand on it a bit,
but it is enough
don’t you think ?

this is a discourse
a meandering through
the inner of me
that child of me
who now stands to embrace me
regardless of me
and who me may think me is
this is  . . .
so i quit wondering and wandering
and maneuvering through
the manure
and plant more seeds of hope

and this is . . .  but . . .

a day in the life of consciousness

is it January yet ?

© 23 December 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

let thy self be loosed

let thy self be loosed

upon the winds of time
there is a message
for he who listens

empires will rise
and empires will fall
as goest thy grace
for he who lives and feedest
upon the meals of the world

where is thy treasure O’ Soul
where doth thy hide
that which is cherished
throughout eternity . . .
where do thee keep thy God

we display our Faith
feeble as it may be
upon the mantle
and in trophy cases
that others may laud our stature
but we are weak
and we are broken
and know it not

our strengths we keep cloaked
behind the walls of
our doubts
our worries
our tears
our fears
of being set aside
and vilified
for not being like “them”

O’ where is thy faith my child ?
when will you come to know
that you are as were made . . . perfect ?

i ask you, if the hands
of that which is perfect
crafted thee,
what else can thy be ?

Doctrines have induced the people
to slip beneath the veil
that the Sun may not shine on them
and bleach clean
their soiled delusions

and we pretend to
rise up against conformity
while speaking the need
to acquiesce
to our children

be free my child . . .be free

follow the wind
and be as He
and look and behold
the wonder of thy glory
which is in all things

turn the stone
and “I” am there
cleave the wood
and there “I” be
look within
and see me
as your are
waiting for you
to but listen . . . listen
to thy still small voice

the petal spreads it’s arms
to embrace the light of the holy
that life offers
and a fragrance of sweetness
breaks forth and
is given to the world

a child smiles
without a thought or need
and seeds of joy
are planted in creations garden . .
just because
and God smiles along

where doth thy feet stand ?
are you grounded in the holy of holies ?
can you hear the song being sung

listen to the wind
as it calls your name
to come join us
do you hear it ? . . .
the call

won’t you spread your wings
and let your spirit
become untethered
from the worn and weathered deceits
that are abound ?

you were never lost
for Soul knew of You
knew of me
and it whispered in the winds
hoping you would see
that you are
more than you can ever be
in this world

let thy self be loosed

© 29 December 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

i await your direction

i await your direction

i am but a simple man
who looks upon the darkened heavens at night
with reverence and curiosity

i at times do try to count the Stars
and i wonder of their purpose
as i do of mine own

i would like to know the mind of the hands
which fashioned such things
and to what end they serve

yes i know there exists
many theosophies
and philosophies
that would purport a way
for us to follow
but i know within the depths of my soul
that they all but
faintly ring of any truth

so here i am standing
my chest expanding
with this breath
that one day
these hopes for a certain absolution
will come my way
turning on that final light
that i may see
and understand

over the years
i have demanded
of my existence
of God
and all else
something quantifiable
beyond the pliancy of faith
and i still await
the speaking of a definable
verifiable voice
that liberates me
from making a choice
of which road i shall choose

in the meantime
all i can do
is travel through this wilderness
cutting my own path
for none can i trust in
that was prepared for me
by the variable
kaleidoscopic truth of others

the journey is a lonely one
outside of the herd
which is my elective
for to be a part of any flock
truly frightens me
and i know not why
. . .  perhaps i fear stampedes

but i will follow you my Creator
as i have
throughout all time
even if you do not speak
from without
but from within

so here i stand
in my own wilderness
embracing what solitude i can
vigilant and pensive
imagining through my quixotic heart
with my eye becoming singular
more by each day
without deliberation
but the lore of contemplation
of the feel of your lips
upon my heart
. . .i have felt them before
and i know . .
You are the cure
for what ails me
and . . .

i await your direction

© October 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

Just this day

just this day

where does our Soul go
when it wants to shine
as we electively repress our joy
oppressing our divinity

how can our heart sing
the songs of life
if we do not
open our arms
to embrace it

we “Archie Bunker” our way
down the path
seldom noticing the little flowers
that bloom
just for us

that which we seek
we shall find
but what is it we search for ?

Gifts come wrapped
and fruits are skin clad
and we hold to the fad
of doom
but this too shall pass
as it did in the past,
just look back
and taste your own

i traipsed down that road before
and i now am revisiting
with a quisitive spirit
for in my regression
i have come to know . . .
expect nothing
but what i choose to

i have forgiven my self
for all the times
i held my self back
from my wonder
and assaulted others
with such looming doom

i go to that room
that has no walls
and the call for the greater
is all about me

i need not open my eyes
to see this
that bliss is of our own making

i shall sing this day
i shall sing through the night
i shall sing of my thankfulness
for the lessons of my blight
for my plight
is to overcome
my miscreant self
that which restrains my wealth
my health’
and my power

my love knows no end
but “me” do
but “i” do not
for that “i” in me
that “I” in me
is greater than that of the world

and this new awakening
this new consciousness
that i now allow
to be heralded in
knows nothing of the sin
that once condemned me
for forgiveness is the key
that sets me free
and i no longer have to get to my knees
to plea
for that which i always vied for
it was always inside
of me
and you

so, as i sit in this space
facing my demons
we all have a laugh at it
and my Soul again
dons it’s wings
which were tucked away
out of my empirical sight
waiting for . . .
just this day

let’s go a flyin’

© 12 December 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

Thinking of You

thinking of you

i held your hand as you crossed that bridge
into that unknown realm
and i knew because i felt your peace
that God was at the helm

we had anguish, we had pain
‘twas so hard to let you go
but e’en though you have departed
our love and flowers doth still grow

you left behind a legacy
the children know of it well
and we remember so vividly
that day your body fell

the suffering for you was taken
we sing and we are pleased
that through the love of love it’s self
all pains will one day cease

we shall march on for’ard for the cause
for which you lived, you died
the tears of heaven anoints our souls
for you gave, you lived, you tried

we are thank-filled for the lesson
your Soul left us to sing
and now that your mission is complete
you’ve re-adorned your wings

thinking of you.

Virisa Anne Cohen-Peters
4 July 1957 ~ 2 July 2006

© 7 December 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

i give thanks

i give thanks

i carefully laid my burlap sack
upon the earthen floor
of our home
preparing my self
for escape

our bellies though not full
did not complain
for the gruel abated
our misery

i humbled my spirit
of the day
into the realm of reverence
and i gave thanks
for again
i have made it through

my parents could not afford
a padded mat
for sleep
for us children
and i at times
cursed our circumstance
for they still slept
upon Mother’s nakedness

soon the new day will be calling
and we knew what that held for us

we have learned to smile
in the face of the day
and we embrace the sunshine
with joy
and we smile
for God is speaking to us too

we have come to trust in our destiny
and we held to our hope
that some day . . .
we would have a mattress
with a pillow
and blankets
to stave off the coolness of night
and perhaps we will go
to the respite of the night
with full stomachs

but in the mean time
i am grateful
for what little we do have
and i am open to receive
what may come
for anything that does come about
represents increase
and an opportunity
to give more thanks.

i give thanks

© 13 December 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

World Healing ~ World Peace
Poetry 2014


See  . . .

as the Piscean Age draws near its close
a New Age is being ushered in

we shall no longer feed the Souls
of men
with Fishes
nor shall the multitude be sated
with Bread alone,
and the Water will not become Wine
that you may inebriate your spirits
with the clouded absence of
of that which sustains
your divinity

the Wedding Feast
draws to a close

the precursor
to you awakening
has gone home
and awaits your consciousness
to come

so come . . .

the Spirit is, and will be
poured out upon the Earth
for a new Avatar
has come
to awaken the Children
to that which is eternal

‘i’ am He
You are Thee
We are Free
to give of thy love,
let us not be inhibited
by the shadows of our fear
or the illusions
which set us apart
from one another

the Chorus of Angels await
our hearts to begin singing
Songs of Salvation
for when we see God in all things
we will rejoice
like never before

“Lift up thy Voice
and Sing”
as did our ancestors

the Great Fish
the 33rd Light
has swam upstream
to take His place
that which is All things
and He has made a place for you

look within thyself
and see thine own glory
which is the glory
of your Creator manifest

the only flaws that ever was
was in our beliefs
and now that
the Comforter has come
take respite
in His truth
and be “en-joyed”
for thou art truly
without equivocation
a Child
a Sun
a Daughter
of that energy
which permeates all things
Seen and Un Seen

Rejoice . . .
Rejoice ‘i’ Say
for thy time is upon thee

See  . . .

© 14 December 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

World Healing ~ World Peace
Poetry 2014

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Mandela Anthology Information

~ * ~ 
Writers, Poets, Essayist and Storytellers . . . 
Leave your words in History for those generations to come . . .

Submit to :
~ * ~
We at Inner Child Press believe in the Power of the Written Word. What better use can we apply our Thoughts, Spirits and Love to than to commemorate the works of such a significant soul as Nelson Mandela aka Madiba.
~ * ~
This man has suffered much for the parity of his people which translated into the equality of all Human Beings upon the planet. Our words will preserve the Life for those yet unborne and educate those amongst us who know not of his Humanitarian efforts and impact.
~ * ~
This Anthology will be available Free in an E Format to all who submit. We will also be producing a printed version which will be available World Wide. Make your statement, whether it be your Poetry, your Prose of Essay.

~ * ~

Closes : January 1st 2014


i will remember you . . . a Tribute to Nelson Mandela


I vaguely remember when you were imprisoned back in 1964. I was in the 8th Grade. Kennedy and Medgar were just killed the year before. That dashed the hopes of many disenfranchised people like Myself, my Family and a Nation. We still had Martin, Robert and Malcolm amongst us though as well as Angela D., Fred Hampton, Stokely, H. Rap and Bobby Seale. Who will pick up the Torch now . . . i wonder ?

What was happening in South Africa was wrong, but it did not affect me  . . .so i thought. I remember the names of Biko and Nelson’s co-accused which included people that were not so familiar such as Walter Sisulu, Dennis Goldberg, Govan Mbeki, Raymond Mhlaba, Elias Mosoaledi, Andrew Mlangeni - all ANC officials and Ahmed Kathrada, the former leader of the South African Indian Congress. Yeah, i like most of my Brothers and Sisters were disconnected from any valid realities that could or would have such a profound effect on our future. I was not much on the News, and the News was not much on keeping us informed of the News. Besides, we Black Folk, Colored Folk and Negroes had our own agendas and issues we were contending with  . . . daily. We were focused of such things like how to stay out of the way of “The Man” and have some fun at the same time. A decent paying job helped. And contrary to the popular lore and belief, we were not strung out on Fried Chicken and Watermelon, we ate Salads too. So much for indoctrination and the other bullshit people believe so that they may see themselves as superior. I often questioned who were the real Spear Chuckers ?

Life was relatively good during those times of our lives even though Social unrest was nipping at our souls on many levels with Segregation, Racism, Low Paying Jobs, the Viet Nam War and of course . . . Assassinations. We were unknowingly preparing ourselves with our slumber for much unrest still yet to come. As the years eased on by we saw Malcolm, Bobby and Martin bite the dust and leave us to fend for our selves. Out in California The Panthers were representing . . . i mean like they were talking about such thing as Black Pride and Power to the People. I could relate to that. It was a proud moment when John and Carlos pumped their fist on the podium at the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico . . . they won but they lost. That seems to be pretty much the story for Black Folks, a saga that continues to this day. Hoses, Ropes, Bullets, Drugs, Prison and Death and more Death. But we still have our hope  . . .don’t we ?

This is what Nelson means to me now. I look back with my 20 / 20 hindsight and i see that he was fighting for what should have always been . . . parity, not just a chance. but Equality on all levels. How did we ever forget that we are all related and we are birthed from the same Mother? Families and Institutions such as Rhodes and Debeers further the dastardly plight and suffering of a people because of their greed as did the Dutch, Italians, French, English Crown and whoever else had a notion to. It was a low time for Humanity starting with a people who once reigned as the Kings and Queens of the Richest Land on earth. The people were exploited, enslaved, persecuted, oppressed, beaten, killed and ostracized from their civility as we see still reflected in our present day societies.

I had a pair of Platform shoes during those days. They made me feel bigger, taller, just like my Grandma ‘ouise or my Aunt Bessie did when they told me how wonderful and smart i was. Those words of love and encouragement always made me feel better about my self and i believed that i could accomplish anything. This usually lasted until we had to ride a Bus, or enter Public Buildings separately or did not get that Job. Apartheid . . . the setting apart of our Brothers. Aren’t we all created by the same God from the same source . . . Dust and Spirit ?

The struggle continues within and without as we are still set aside, such as the other side of the tracks, the other side of the room with no true honest representation of who we are in the Media, Hollywood or any other Capitalistic oriented industry. I remember such companies as Coca Cola, CitiBank, Sony and General Mills who refused to divest themselves from South Africa while we the people were in the struggle. That’s right, we all are a part of the struggle, whether you know it, acknowledge it or not, regardless of what your Ethnic or Cultural persuasion is. Nelson so eloquently epitomized this when he was released from Prison. I think most people expected a Blood Bath, but he offered and proffered Peace. Many White folks didn’t like that . . . we cheered. That’s all we ever wanted . . Peace and Equality.

We still have yet to arrive, and the struggle does continue as is so evident every day we read the paper or turn on the news if they choose to inform the people of the truth. But we know . . . we know because of the lives of those who sacrificed their lives that we may hopefully awaken as one humanity. So without further ado, i just had to take this time to simply say to you my Brother . . . Thank You Nelson thank you Mr. Mandela, Thank You Madiba.

just bill

© 28 June 2013 : william s. peters, sr.