Lost Sun Wolf

Land is enough
So why do I hold
So close to my being
This building of plans
Future visions
Amounting to more stacks
Of unread books?

To see, to breathe,
To smells deeply
As I stand patiently
Watching grass blow
And clouds roll.

I try to explain
Why wolf culls are horrific,
Why medicating healthy
Is sponsored iotrogenics.

But the scroll keeps
Dragging attention
Through foreign landscapes
And cute puppies,
Into weddings of strangers
And good times
I’ve seen before
In beer commercials.

It’s ok
Because it’s too much
To take in
Especially all at once.

So I stand here,
Void of that voice
Realizing deeply
Just like setting sun
That I will be forgotten soon
And tomorrow
Which will always come
Will be another day
To try.

Silent Darkness

Friggart bore
Into silent darkness
Death to all
Thy left behind
Pride and stripped
Tunneling
Voiceless throats
Remain forevermore

Gathered strength
Clenching teeth
Soot and grime
Machine will grind
Until each burr
Buries itself
Into dried blood
Of all that whore

Let it remain
Of Gods who speak
Leave it forever
Of who shall sink
Whithered and lonely
Threatened and scared
Silent darkness
Unmoving hands

Incoherently Surrender

Whispering incoherently into my ear
I lost myself into reverie
A world I’d always dreamed of
Soaked in sweat of our lust
We were alone in our madness
Lazy summer breeze through
The teepee opening

Was this ever our together?
Calmness so saturated
In lazy sun streams forgetting
Each worry on our minds
Like watching honey drip
And the taste that’s next
To souls forever twixt

Wake me if I ever go there
I wouldn’t mind your soft nudges
Urging my response
A smile always for you, my amora
In twilight hours of our embrace
Along river banks and gurgling streams
Lost in a deep green forest
Of your old mans beard surrender

Patching

So maybe instead of you
I seek a me.
I fuss about my collar
And chop at my hair,
Wax off my new boots
And make sure
I’m not seen
With those patched pants on
Anymore.

Maybe I resist
By rewiring.
Maybe I divert
By running away.
Maybe I control
My impulses
By sending absolutes
To my nerve endings
So my digits
And elbows
Don’t move towards
My patch jobs.

Maybe I don’t remind myself anymore
About the things I never had,
Maybe I just lie in bed a little longer
Instead of reaching for dreams that aren’t mine.
Maybe I stop smoothing out the rough patches
For I think with better light
They might be my mountain tops,
Or maybe they’re the friction
That helps me down the road.

Messages of Life

My vision has been blotched,
My insides have been influenced
By an algorythm I didn’t want..
But accepted,
Like inflating gas prices
At the pump,
Along a journey
I didn’t plan.

The algorythm told me
What I should have known
I had to do,
It showed me beautiful photos
That directly appealed to my soul
Because I had trained it to know
What my soul was drawn to
In such a sly way
That my soul is starting to think
It has been tricked into being this way.

How do you step away?
Physically, mentally,
Spiritually.
Healthily.
How does one begin to see dots
So that a woven thread
Can be drawn between them
A threaded vine, hops,
Nestled between two calm growth lines
Of muscle and soul,
Callus and depth.

It feels like turning off the light
Walking alone in darkness
Reminding myself I live here
And can visualize the corners
To avoid bumping into.

It feels like losing a friend
Not the excitement of starting a journey
But the reverse
No more serendipitous friends
Going out for coffee at the coolest spot in town
No more hitting the peak at sunrise
No more rich street foods from India
Or Wat visits in Thailand.

It feels like a Doctors visit
Where reality cannot be escaped
Truth must be told to those who seek to help
And I must admit to myself the most
Where I wake up each morning
And what I have ahead of me to do.

I’m not a movie
No Hollywood plot,
I’ve got cuts on my hands
That didn’t get publicized
My boots didn’t get worn so
By a team of set designers
I didn’t seek funding
I am funding, myself.

So, perhaps this is my starting,
My turning away slowly at the inside
Where I re-write my reasons
And my daily check-ins
Come with meaning and fortitude.
What meaning I do give
Needs to come with a warning
That these messages of life
Are forever important.

Two Five Three Six

Letters from my ancestors
Have each spelled out ten names
Two to be used in case of emergency
Five for female spawn
Three for patriarchal ties
And six as shadows of mine own heart.

I love each one as any man can
I’ve researched each story true,
Chosen from my memory
I’ve drawn each one out, too.
I hold my head up high for them;
Each they’ve passed to me their secrets.
In my hands I see their scars
So, too, I see their years.

Through their streets I have sure walked
I’ve also gone for a ride
Sitting in the back seat
Of a stuffed full 1965 Studebaker
Heading out on summer vacation.
I’ve opened the door on Union Street
To taste homemade crabcakes and beans,
I’ve rode the long trail home
Passed Devick Lake out on the range.

So each of the names I keep at the helm
Awaiting imminent deployment,
Like roses saved in a jar
A timeless memorial stored as fondness,
An old lined sheet of blank paper
Found in the desk of y’or.

One

One
Oneness
The Way
A single heart
Forest’s path is empty
Echo is just you
Thoughts are all your own
Beyond reason.. sure
And in good nature, hopefully.

One
Sun
Moon
Earth
One

One
Has distant friends
And one multiplied by anything
Becomes anything
One has its beginning
A small seed
A drop of rain
A heart beat
A tongue

One’s voice falls silent
One’s sight grows distant
One’s touch is careful
One’s feelings are forever lost
In a sea of comfort in one’s own
So one grows tired
This single heart
So one’s thought may stop
Even just for a divine pause
To find one’s way
Again
One

I’m Gone

I’m gone
It has taken me a while
But I sit here
Gone
Watching the elongating
Aloe vera leaves
Reach
So far from the road
That once brought me here.

I’m gone
My path long overwritten
Slight smile
Of downtrodden blades
And the omnipresent moss
Setting it’s tangles
Deeper than I can ever watch.

I’m gone
Noises from the party
Barely audible
Where my anxiety levels
Scream
An inability to be present
Sits waiting in blades of grass
I walk amongst alone.

Attitude

This work ethic is work
It is not play,
Play is different.
It resides on the same plane,
But is a different vein.
Attitude relates the two;
Notions of good and well,
Interested
And seeing life
From a perspective of fun.

Work ethic is motivated
Play is motivated
Peace must also be motivated
So that we can find
Within our depths
The actions to take.

Each state of being
Has the possibility
Of infinite attitudes.
Each attitude
Can be applied
To each action.
Actions and state of beings
Are choices on the same plane,
Choices that each take motivation.
Attitude chosen for one
Can easily be the attitude
Chosen for another action.