Hurricane Rena's

local ingredients, worldly flavour

Category: Magic Words

VDay 16

I want to celebrate this Valentines day by planting a tree
that will blossom every year of our lives
feed us sweet fruits when we are older
give us bunches of flowers every spring
providing food for bees
to make into honey every year with which to sweeten our lives

I love it, becoming thoughtful
Giving flowers that are still alive
in a pot of dirt, with the potential to grow
more than those that are cut and imported
and flown around on cargo jets
making home made treats
secretly in the kitchen for one another
handled with care every step of the way
and designed with individual tastes in mind
containing something of you,
your energy, time and effort
That the sentiments of the holiday
Don’t have to be gotten from commercial sources

Its two years since the man I loved all my life
took his last breath on Earth,
casting a shadow on all the romance, hearts and candy
But the romantic glow of candlelight is always full of shadows
that deepen the brilliance of the soft light of love
and I think of him and his fearless heart
and the way he made it count
if a slight tear falls on the celebration
made more intense by whispers from the past
encouraging me to celebrate it with even more abandon,
dance wildly, love deeper, live my dreams in a life shared,
reach out and connect with a deeper passion than ever before

I’d like to celebrate by building another honey super,
maybe another hive
preparing for bees to prosper
with the sweetness of summer feed us,
with the buzz of life in the trees connect us
with brilliance of flowers on the ground and garden entice our eyes,
I missed his funeral in order to honour him in everyday life
Being fully present for the one whom I love
and creating a lasting memorey that reaches for a better future
than the one being created for us by environmental circumstance.

Year of the Moneky Business

From international trade agreements involving dozens of countries
being tricked into signing authority to over ride their sovereign laws
To the gut instinct of an 8 month old kitten
it horrifies me on how many levels
corporations try and seize control
the kitten’s been addicted
by misguided loving hands
to carbs and salts and chemicals he does not need
it would make him sick
to make him switch all at once
to a healthier choice
you’ve got to wean him off of the stuff
and I can just see those pet food CEOs
at their lab tests, cheering when the lab cats choose their manufactured food
over that which nature intended the beast to eat
and I once boycotted all their products as carefully as I could
In a human rights campaign
Because they did the same
to humans, mothers and babies in impoverished countries
receiving a gift basket for their newborns
containing cases of infant formula
in the guise of helping so the mothers milk dries up
and if the family can’t get more the baby starves and dies
insidious diabolical method of creating repeat customers through desperation
manufacturing junk food with child slave labour
food additives like vanillan ending up in the finished product
to make you want more of it as you eat it
immediate craving even as you’re getting full
then they also sell you diet pills and plans
when you can’t get a grip on it
the company’s got you covered
at all stages of addiction except for real recovery
letting the animal or the human make their own choices
with subtle chemical influence exerted behind the scenes
given a conscious choice, a person or an animal
would eat healthy food and never get fat or sick
but day to day we have to think twice
to take the fruit and not the candy every time you want something sweet
to eat the fish and not the chips at home
There’s been rat meat sold as chicken wings for Superbowl Sunday in the USA
and it might be more sustainable that way
If I could find those packages of wings processed in China
I could feed a species appropriate food to my pet
thinking I’m crazy to consider it, it was a scandal, strictly illegal
but it passed the taste test of hundreds of sports watchers
just as good fried with hot sauce for humans
and the natural prey of the cat
almost certifiably insane
when rats are abundant, making themselves a known nuisance in everyone’s yards
and this kind of a food system,
what I’d like to break free from
not subject any living creature in my care to dealing with,
is considered rational and normal.
They’ve just added a new mental illness to the big psychiatric diagnosis book
under the category of eating disorders
when people want organic and healthy food
question the source of where and how its made
make sure its not ever handled with callous disregard
and if the ugliest rodent on earth could help us break free
stop trusting in processed foods and international trade
that sends it all away
by presenting itself as a dubious source of protein
in the hands of manufacturers not yet seen as crooked as they are
on every single level imaginable
and also as a species appropriate food source
for animals nature evolved to be its predators
maybe this year of the monkey business
is actually the year of the rat
thanks to China being allowed to make us processed food
from real chicken
and choosing not to send it back
instead sending rat.

(the corporation referred to is Nestle)

Poem For Sunday

I hear your voice
Clear and cool as water
Soft as sunshine filtered through the forest
Loving life in all its chaotic splendour
Your thoughts speak to me through what you created
As a gift to yourself and the world
From within your mind
housed in your brain
encased in your head
now needing us to reach out to you
in your journey
how loved and treasured you are amoung us
how beauty and happiness hang by a thread in this world
from one day to the next
We give you love and light for your journey
we give you strength and sustinance
we give you the chance to experience the miraculous
and to know how well you are loved
and what a difference you have made.



This poem is written, and used with meditation and EFT to help someone, a beautiful, warm and caring person who is also a brilliant singer, recently diagnosed with brain cancer. This is for the community around the person to use directing the benifits towards the person.

Notice how the poem focuses on the person in health and happiness, not so much on the illness, aknlowdge it, but do not give it power.

In Memory of Crusty John

In Memory of Crusty John

(what I admired most about John Proski was his outrageous sense of humor and his cheerfulness, and how hospitable and socialble he was)

In memory, in celebration of the life of Crusty, John Proski
That guy who was a friend to all in the Bay here,
Threw a party that went on for several years
Like a king on the hill watching over the neighborhood from the bunker
Hospitable and social,
Welcoming, with time to talk most of the time
Sharing some wacky ideas
Laughing often in the course of his life
Bringing home the FOS
Last one to join the fleet of the great DQ charters
Admired from above
On its own portable ways forever,
And John was my favorite water taxi driver when I first met him
Hauling us over cheaply to parties on Read
Dances at Surge
The best birthday ever was one where my friends got him to
Take me out sailing on the Silver Lining
Over to Maurelle to get Stui and his dog,
Packing on board everyone we could find.
I only knew him in his later years
When he already had so many great stories about the life he’d lived,
Friends from all over coming to see him,
Then falling madly in love and moving out
It was so sweet to travel with him and his lady
When he was all happy
On a voyage to Sontuila
And oh how it pleased him greatly to get
Back on the water with the Sonic
Where you could drag a bent pin and catch a fish, he claimed
Living on an ex troller in his later days
Taking up wharfage collecting, a government job at Minstrel
Wandering around here and there
John Proski enjoyed his time on Earth
Was loved and appreciated by those he knew,
Made proud by the kids that he raised
Of whom he spoke highly in his later days
So we come to say good bye to our good friend Crusty
John Proski, whom we will miss on the coast here a lot,
But sure that he’s finding his way in other worlds,
As cheerful as he ever was in the very early mornings of this one.

The Silence of Zoe

The Silence of Zoe
by Rena Patrick

(written in honour of Zoe Cassidy)

Picking up Zoe on the roads
Always made me smile
With outrageous humor and hope
That there’s some free spirits coming up in the younger generation
Who sees walls and fences placed in his path
As another blank canvas
With which to add a touch of color
A flair for the outrageous
An imagination of greater depth
These are just surface impressions of the man
I did not know him well
Just a few ways our paths crossed on this island
And when they happened to cross
Zoe Cassidy always brightened my day
Reminding me of the times when I saw the world
as a blank canvas with magic imagination
When steel boxes were a surface to which color and character must be added
now lost years too soon
on his way from this world,
his presence, or his absence
strikes my heart with the importance of treasuring each day
in its own special way
And not letting it all get taken away
By the things that bring us down.
The silence of Zoe speaks loudest of spotting the brilliance
In this first sunny day after weeks of rain
OF not letting the flood waters of your sadness carry you away.
But seize what you can to treasure in life
hold close the moments of each day
How the things in life that cheer our hearts
need to be honoured,
held close and treasured
How delicate the enthusiasm that keeps us alive
is such a fine line
Whispered to me in the silence of Zoe

Echoing on in Song

Echoing on in Song
(dedicated to the memory of Steve Trayler, written by Rena Patrick)

Steve I remember you best in song
the sound of your voice and guitar echoes on
Writer of some of my favorites,
fellow poet of the west coast
writing ballads of our collective history
Love of stories,
Words connected he and I
Heated debates we had, inspired the creation of Poetry Pigeonhole and
Honouring historic changes within your lifetime with
Non Timber Forest Products
and Valentino
I danced to your songs every chance I got
and made you smile
She left me for Jesus
at the Sunday afternoon jam,
Your pictures present at my very first art show
in the Fools Gallery years ago
when I wondered who you were
along the same lines as mine,
except yours were in fine lines and detail
Mine painted in colors and impressions
a contrast yet similarity in style
Honouring character and place
as it changes and as it stays the same,
With the main work of your career
dedicated to trying to help others
a compassionate man
who tried to understand
The tragic tales that befall those around us,
Driven mad caught between compassion and effectiveness
Turned to the water, and boating
For enjoyment and beauty to be the main thing
to share with others the enjoyment of our waters
without the pursuit of prey,
It was the water that took you on your way
On a quiet night,
a tragedy too soon,
but a way that others would wish to go
with no trips to hospitals or old folks homes,
no lengthy illness to make you dread your fate
That everyone shares at the end of all our days
Just a cold sparkling starlight night for your journey
and all of us here to remember you
Remember you best in song
When we hear your voice echoing on.

Memories of Martin


Memories of Martian

Just last week I was dancing with Martian the fishing guide

It turned out to be the week just before he died

The man who started looking like his prey as he aged

Eyes and teeth getting bigger

Munching away on this fine duck dinner in the restaurant in Heriot Bay

Drinking in the lounge

saying, “this does not quite sound as good to me

as the music that was being played

When I was a young man

But I got to go to the show

Enjoy as much of this as I can before I go”

Standing out in a crowd as the oldest guy up dancing

Song after song, with a big grin on

The way we all keep wishing more of the men around here would do

With beautiful girls for partners

Laughing and grinning all the way

Come to think of it he’s been at almost every one I’ve gone to this winter,

Every time I got up to play,

He’s doing the just same

Always wants to hear my latest poetry

Discuss the ideas behind the words

Or singing out on the smoking deck

“And we won’t give a damn when we drink our rum

With the girls of old Maui”

Martian knew it all, word for word,

Wearing what he refers to as his super bowl rings

Gold that he’s won in derbies

Of his own pro sport

Profession, passion in life

Last fall we were talking

By the parking lot in Heriot Bay

Got splashed by a huge chum jumping right by the beach

and he’s saying

“that fish is so horny he barely knows what he’s doing

just trying to get to the creek as fast as he can”

Splashed by a big one

and it’s “That fish just made my day”

As we go on our separate ways

with his presence in life getting ever more vivid and intense

just before he went

This is Martian, always our friend.

Memories of Mickey


Memories of Mickey

My Dad was such an inspiration

As the man I looked up to in my early childhood

As I listened with rapt attention

To his stories of how great it was riding a motorbike to the west coast

And hangin’ out on Long Beach, seeking a life of freedom

Thinking when I grow up, I’m gonna do the same

Rollin’ two wheel thunder through the rockies

To see the freedom of the open road, and standing up to the challenges

it offers, hail balls on the cliff edged highways, or camping out in the rain

Just like he presents us with here and now to honor him

Hay River in the winter time,

flights in the thousands of dollars to go on

at the end of a road seldom salted or plowed

Where they stopped sending the bus years ago because it broke down for 5 hours

When it was forty below and the people on it nearly froze

and many more would be here to honor him

The man who changed all our lives

With his soft spoken presence, his larger than life stories

Building a church on MacKay lake

Cabin turned church with stain glass windows to offer sanctuary

To contentious objectors in times of war

Later to be reffered to as

“that religious cult I was in back in the early 70s”

But I couldn’t see a difference between it

and other churches sponsering refugees,

just theirs came from the USA,

Church turned cabin where we went on so many fishing trips

Filled my younger years with adventure and fun and the pride

Of eating of what you have caught yourself

Allowing us to miss weeks of school to make the point

That “there’s no education so valuable as knowing how to feed yourself”

With both a rod and a gun

Helping to make me the great radio show host I’ve become

With a song for every occasion

Its “fearless Heart” when he’s looking for love

Or “Last thing I needed” when his first born daughter runs away

He says to me “there’s a song about people who quit school in grade six”

When I was never going back after lunch one day

And he makes me sit there and listen to Murry Macloughlin, songs from the street, Honkey Red

I had to go to Edmonton last month

and thank him in person for being my Dad

For being such an example of a decent human being

Wish I could be there myself to honor

Memoies of Mickey,


Rena Patrick | CD Baby

Here’s Rena Patrick, west coast poet, poetry set to music. Here’s where you can get her album, Saying the Magic words, which includes such hits as Ostrich Generation, the Bug Catcher, and Becoming Aware.

Rena Patrick: Saying the Magic Words

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