Walked the seas and weathered the rain
Woke up in morning’s frost
Felt snowflakes upon my nose
Hot sun upon my ears
Wind blew off my worn out hat
Dust flew in my eye
Humidity soaked me inside out
Shriveled me up like a raisen
Saw through twenty three hours of darkness
Never slept for twenty four days straight
Walked upon burning sand
Slept upon jagged rocks
Met a mosquito in a spiders web
Fell into a great bear’s den
Entangled by a caterpillar’s cocoon
Demonized by a shadow
Yet still I look for tomorrow’s bread
As today has come to an end.
Tag: bread
Rain – part V (day 2265)
(part IV)
I felt good beating away my irrational fear
That this hungry stranger was wild man
He did have some unkempt parts about him
But nothing more than your average man.
He said he’d been working on a pig farm
Just inside the Ontario border
For the last four years
A smell I had keenly detected
When I first met him.
He warmed over as he drank the tea
And soon he was calmer
As the dog stopped growling at the stranger
The fire I kept going I’m sure
Also brought up his spirits.
I fed him toasted bread, jam, and eggs
And sent him off to the barn
Before darkness set in.
Moon at Midnight – Part XXXXI (day 2015)
I know that Frank appreciated having us there
To help him chop wood
He wasn’t prepared for so much help
So we only had two splitting axes
But everybody managed to stay busy
Stacking and carrying and loading and unloading.
On the second day at their place
We could feel a great rumbling
And knew it could only be the buffalo stampeding
So we immediately made our way
Out of their valley
And in to the next
Where there was a migratory path
The buffalo would always take
We sat atop the crest of the valley
Just watching them there
Thousands, movement as far as the eye could see
What a beautiful thing to behold
Frank was happy to have sure food all winter.
We only took down two buffalo
That was all the meat that Frank needed
It wasn’t smart for us to carry on our backs
Meat from this far away to our own village
We let Tall Pine and Moon Cow pull the bow
For it was clear they mourned not being able
To have their buffalo run this year
It was beautiful to watch them ride
Frank’s stud, bareback
Into the buffalo, fearlessly.
Tall Pine got the first one
Which landed with a thud and a big pile of dust
He then hurried back to us
Jumped off and before the dust settled
Moon Cow was off with a hoot
To get the wind in his hair again
I could see him smiling even from where I sat
As he wove his way into the herd
Bow cocked and sighted:
Thud… dust.
With four of us dressing the buffalo
We had them quickly on a sled
Being pulled by the horse
And were on our way back to the house
Excited to celebrate the luck
Frank knew better then to offer us his moonshine
But he had plenty of tea
Amy made us the most delicious bread
And we had a mighty feast of it
Afterwards all of us had to undo
Our belt buckles
So we could sit comfortably around the fire
Clarinet included!
It was nice to be with such kind people
And to have helped them such.
Moon at Midnight – Part X (day 1984)
(part IX)
It was hard work
Very hard work for a traveler
Mostly used to walking for hours
I could see that Frank was used to this labour
But I could also see
How glad he was to have help
At such a labour intensive job
Both of us enjoyed a dip in the stream at noon
Frank was a silent man while working
Focused on the motion of the saw
Or the point his axe was to come down on the block
I could tell he was a precise man
By the way his axes were kept
A perfect bevel upon their edge
That split through wood
Like butter on Amy’s warm bread
I commented on this a few times
And he just kept saying
A real man must look after his tools.
Clarinet would come around
With the dogs once and a while
But Frank would tell her it was too dangerous
Around the chopping blocks so
And she would wander back to the house
Amy and her would bring sandwiches to us
Roasted beef with cucumber and
Amy’s secret sauce she wouldn’t give me the recipe for
Who was I kidding though,
I wouldn’t be making it any time soon
I think it had radishes in it.
During the evenings we would sit around the oven
I’d ask just enough questions
To keep Frank talking as he liked to,
Always with a story of childhood
Clearly fond memories for him with his brothers,
But always with his sweetheart close by
Smiling, just as I watched her these fond evenings
Clearly full of love,
I’d fall asleep smiling every night.
Water (day 1482)
This heart, this heart,
So crisp and clear,
No honesty is left unsaid,
No crevice left unfed.
Hastily moving in torrential exalt
From heavens above
To earth, far below.
And in this journey –
Over cliffs and through ponds,
Your kindness forgets no soul,
No hand left out to dry.
No creature, living nor dead,
Escapes your kind flow,
Effortlessly flowing abundantly
In a perfect example of life.
Symmetry.
And mine toes! They’re freedom!
When dipped in your stead.
No greater feeling alive,
Nor consistently fed
Then your bounty to my bread.
In This Grove (day 1390)
At times, in this grove,
Wild ducks wander by.
Waddling and posing
With tourists bustling by.
Some come for tulips
That sprout mid January,
Some come to feed ducks
Leftover crusts from their bread.
When mid-summer heat
Comes beckoning in,
Ducks make like rabbits
And scoot to cool ponds,
Where bugs and beetles
And minnows and reeds
Grow with abandon
In the glorious green.
Long sweeping willows
Tickle edges of the pond
With leftover foliage
Drifting on and again.
So summer to autumn
Leaves flowers drooping on,
Squirrels busying stores
For the onslaught of snow.
Freezing and dusting
Elements of the sky
To a mountain so high,
Silently sleeping,
Awaiting the thaw.
Long Lines with Beauty Adds (day 937)
Desire my bread that I could not slice
Weak I have become
From long lines of reckless decisions
Passing the beauty adds along
With my pants at my ankles
Brothers and Sisters (day 288)
We fight for our money
We fight for our bread
We fight for the clothes on our back
But do we fight for our brothers and sisters?
We fight for our gold
We fight for our oil
We fight for the car that we drive
But do we fight for our brothers and sisters?
We fight for our computers
We fight for our iphones
We fight for the laptop we squander
But do we fight for our brothers and sisters?
We fight for our drugs
We fight for our pension
We fight for the crimes we commit
But do we fight for our brothers and sisters?
[This poem is dedicated to the brothers and sisters who are effected every day by the terror of what is known as Kony. Please give the Invisible Children a voice.]
