Two poems and a picture…..

“If you can’t fly, then run.

If you can’t run, then walk.

If you can ‘t walk, then crawl

But whatever you do,

 you HAVE to keep moving forward.

                                                -Martin Luther King Jr.


   I’m getting ready to head out again. I will be traveling a lot for work, so if you wish to see me at any upcoming events, check my tab above and see where I will be when. Come say hi and introduce yourself, I’d love to meet you!

    The weather is warming, which means I get to leave this Stick and Brick jail and head out into Nature where my breath comes easier, I feel my heartbeat louder and my body relaxes.  My phone/internet connection will be sketchy, so I will not be checking in much.

This year is so much different than last year. I’m so happy. I’m so proud of myself.

 This May 5th is the two year mark when I lost Bruce Almighty, who got me through the HARDEST time of my life.  My heart still breaks when I think of him and how much I miss him.  After he died, I was bereft, and I didn’t know how to function, but for the first time in my life, I let my heart break and I let myself fall to pieces no matter where I was. I cried my eyes out in Wal-Mart, in teh parking lot, in my car, I didn’t care where. When the sadness overwhelmed me, I let it out anyone who saw, be damned. Even in his death he taught me so much.

   That time wasn’t just about Bruce and what he did to save my life, and then ultimately, what he did that took his, but it was a bookend for me on a series of tumultuous chapters in my life. I had lost a number of very dear friends and family members in an extremely short time. They were soul friends, the kind who got me, the kind whom I’d spend hours talking on the phone with.  I miss them terribly. 

After Bruce died, and after I could use my hand/arm again, I painted a picture. I didn’t know what I was doing at the time, I just knew that if I didn’t start creating art in some form, I was going to die, (a soul death) and I had a sacred one to care for, so I would obviously never leave her.

Anyway, I painted this picture (Below #1) and wrote this poem(Below #2) at the begining of everything.

Then I left and dropped of the face of the earth as far as everyone was concerned. I knew my healing would not come from a human. (It rarely does quite honestly) Only a few knew where I was. But I needed to do that. Everything I do has a purpose. I needed it because it helped heal me. I was able to re-join society stronger, and more ME than I had been since the rape.  

When I got back, I was creating art left and right, and all the pieces for the show sold right away (there ended up being no show due to scheduling issues on my end.)

One of the greatest losses from the rape for me was the firm knowlege I held beforehand about my own sacredness. But after the rape and a series of events I lost that clear ability to KNOW my sacredness.   However, that time away from society, helped. I re-planted myself and got myself straightened away.  Thusly this poem was born. (Below #3) I realized, as I discussed in my other post, that not everything was mine to take on, and once I could see what was mine and what was not mine, it cleared things up quickly.  

I will never relinquish that again.

   As I have said over and over, my life has not been easy, but it has always been worth it. And even if I have to crawl, I WILL always move forward and grow and be Mary Freaking Black Bonnet.

I am truly, forged by fire. I take that, as an honor.



NOTE: all works and words on this site are the sole property of Mary Black Bonnet. Don’t steal what’s not yours and don’t make copies of anything wihtout written permission. My words and my work are my soul children.  If you kidnap them or harm them in anyway, you WILL be prosecuted to the fullest extent.

 (Some of the photos are sideways, sorry I don’t know how not to get them to do that.) 

#1 Self-portrait May 2015

#2 The poem; written in spring of 2016


My giddy silence returns.

My voice falters,

my lungs constrict.

My feet long for the earth,

the cool, wet, soil.

My soul needs the sun, moon and trees,

the air exhaled by trees.

It’s own world,

my world.

I am alone,

but never solitary.

Born an Engima,

the sooner I embrace it, the sooner I’ll progress.

My friends have passed and my soul howls for them,

knowing it’s futile.

I’m left.


I need to dig a hole

and puke.

Drop this rock


Find someone

to come inside my precious silence.

Pull me out,

before I drown.

Balance the space between

silence and sound.


#3 Self-portrait October 2016

Poem reads:#

If you are to know me,
if you are to come inside my silence
                     at all….
You must understand something.
Never take advantage,
 or treat me badly.
I can walk away,
  and I will.
Life is much too short
  and fragile.
The world is large,
 the sky and the wind are wild,
         as am I.
Boxes and expectations
  were never meant for me


Lakota Winyan.
Cunksi’s Ina.