“Everybody Is Welcome on Earth.” Art by Izzie with help from Micah and Rafael
“Everybody Is Welcome on Earth.” Art by Izzie with help from Micah and Rafael



The rainbow or Pride flag was designed by Gilbert Baker in 1978. The many colors represent the many kinds of people in the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender community.
Delicate, sacred, precious life.
The irreplaceable gift of life
that all of us has, once as you,
Sana, sana, colita de rana.
Si no sanas hoy,
sanarás mañana.
Heal, heal, li’l tail of an eel,
If you don’t heal today,
tomorrow you may. HEAL!
As brother Martin Luther King Jr. said:
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness,
Only light can do that!
Hate cannot drive out hate;
Only love can do that.”
Storms cannot drive out storms,
Sunset flames glow
Flute wind blows
Diamond water flows
Honey rocks, bird music
Butterflies grow.
Thank you, NATURE!
Crickets and cicadas
sing a freedom lullaby to the moon
as the stars cast rays of peace upon earth
Spirit, the human spirit full of love,
the spirit that rises up
like the sun
for what’s right!
***   ***   ***   ***   ***
by Margot Pepper’s 2nd Grade Language Lab: Clio W, Lucy C, Audrey K, Ruth K, Julian M, Izzie A, Cade V, Henry M, Max K, Kamren B, Kenzo E, Ezra Z.C, Eli R, Lulu Z, Theo B, Rowan F, Samantha L, Cash K, Sydney F, Olive P.Z, Lalima G, Viktor P, Micah K, Beck R, Hudson O, Micah S.S, Leah J, Natalie C, Jordan F, Mahal W.I, Siena L, Lawrence B.

Song for Women

by Mary Rudge

Women of every Nation
Women of every tribe
used as spoils of war —
abused — with no recourse —
women with needs denied
with childhood stolen away,
chosen for soil and plunder
with bodies ripped asunder,
without words to say
to tell the horror —
you are my sister, sister
I think of you always.
I never forget you.
Be powerful in my love.
Find healing in my love.
Live forever in my love.
Women who work for justice
women, stand side by side,
women of every tribe, and
Nation, with the same story,
truth is your weapon, and song.
Women who’ve found the music
and the words, who will be heard
leading yourselves to glory
telling of lives fulfilled,
now and tomorrow —
I think of you always.
I never forget you.
Be powerful in your love.
Find healing in your love.
Live forever through your love.
You are my sister, sister,
I think of you always.
I never forget you.
Be powerful in my love.
Find healing in my love.
Live forever in my love.


by Claire J. Baker

(in memory of Mary Rudge)
Seekers of the exotic,
riders of water and wind,
shapers of jewels and images,
builders of bridges/breakthroughs,
explorers of Mars, the psyche,
artists, students, elders, embryos
this moment conceived —
whatever we will be in an hour,
tomorrow, in a hundred years
or at the last turn of the earth
under moonlight’s incantations,
whatever comes
may we lean toward
the language of roses.

For Vietnam Veterans

by Claire J. Baker

There are wounds deeper than death.
They kill the soul, but not the breath,
battles fought when war is past,
victories that will not last.
For all the wounds that may not heal,
honorable soldiers, we humbly kneel.

The Known Soldier

by Claire J. Baker

We stand by
your fresh grave.
covers the
like a cozy
The 21-gun
is silent,

beyond war go we

by Judy Joy Jones

we are one heartbeat
no color
or religion
have we
spirit sees
only divinity
in you and me
our lives
are created
for great things
we are
precious souls
filled with the divine
hearts and minds
go we
embracing the
sacred gift of life
beyond war
beyond war
go we

Gentler Universes

by Peter Marin

Wife’s dead of cancer,
years ago. I do
whatever a man does,
construction, paint, break stones,
rake leaves — muscle and sweat,
thirty bucks a day. Hate shelters,
live in a cave, dug it myself above
the beach, on the cliffs, timbers
for shoring, candles inside,
dry as a bone even in rain,
reading sci-fi until midnight, then
dreaming, stoned, curled like a baby,
of alien planets, gentler universes,
empty skies stretched
beyond all believing.

The harmful impact of an eviction notice on the human heart. Art by Jos Sances
The harmful impact of an eviction notice on the human heart. Art by Jos Sances


Big City Blues

by George Wynn

Finally got a job
and a place to stay
never mind — everybody
in the dump — either
a blank face or
a hostile look
way past midnight
in Baghdad by the Bay
he’s listening to the little
red radio
familiar blues/country
songs: lovers split up
drift far apart
drown themselves in
the bottle to
ease their broken heart

The San Francisco Hurt

by George Wynn

They say adversity
is good for you
It makes you stronger
But how much adversity?
I see the hurt on the frowned
faces of far too many folks
who grew up in inner city
neighborhoods, parts of
them emotionally broken
by years and years of
streets and shelters
shaking their heads
saying,” I ain’t got
no job, no housing,
I need to live too!”

She Slept Under A Full Moon

(For Someone On The Streets)

by Claire J. Baker

Though warned not to sleep
directly under the moon’s
rounded light —
that it would reverse
her magnetic poles,
disrupt her karma,
not spooked by the warning
she opened her spirit
to the moon’s benediction.
In a week of sleeping out
in a peaceful plaza —
no alarming fright, she
began a fresh direction,
a diction full of light.

Dream Catchers

by Claire J. Baker

Our Indian friend
makes “dream catchers.”
A hole centered in web
lets nightmares
slip through,
stagger in darkness,
tumble into a black hole —
gone forever.
These unique webs
are perfect for saving
“keeper dreams.”
Sally tells us: each
finished dream catcher
is more genuine,
more true to life, when
left with a flaw.

Unembraced San Francisco Seniors

by George Wynn

A cold sun
just before dark
old black, brown
and white
men with packs
wandering from
the Public Library
festoon themselves
for the night
on downtown streets
unwelcome guests
weeded out
by the City
giving meaning
and sorrow
to the “Survival
of the Fittest.”

Anthem, Stanza One

by Claire J. Baker

We homeless are part of the messy day.
So, world, don’t ever judge us lost.
We’re part of and beyond the fray.
Homeless, a part of a motley day
is trying our very best to stay
out of trouble, pay the cost.
We homeless have our messy days.
So never, world, see us as lost!

you are precious to me

by Judy Joy Jones

puttin people in prisons
instead of schools
tellin everyone
guns not prayers
will keep em safe
while ignoring
people eating out
of garbage cans
all this hate
we created
comin back
haunting us
mirroring our souls
thru eternity
and concrete streets
will be where
we sleep
when will we see
we are created
to love and be loved
and rise above
violence and hate
you my friend
are precious to me
you are so very very
precious to me

Back to Saroyan Country

by George Wynn

Outside the Amtrak depot
the old literary Vet
shakes his head, “Too
much up here for me,
the circumstances
of aging move too quickly,
Can’t survive on the
street no more.”
He looks out at the Bay,
“Going back to
Saroyan Country. Got
old friends in the Valley
who’ll help me out.”
He taps my shoulder
“I’ll write you.”
“You always do
and long letters too.”
“That’s my style,”
he laughs then purses
his lips and points a
callused finger my way.
“You know friend, present
day San Francisco has
become the big devouring
the small, and damn it,
the unimaginable corporate
future is here deliberately
instilling fear beyond fear
on poor and homeless
folks suffering with
unaffordable housing
and no official declaration
of emergency!”