Category: political

Lost Sun Wolf

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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.

Messages of Life

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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.

Coffee Grinds

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Please dont put so much
Water on my coffee grinds
It just ain’t right to be doing
Such nasty things to me
Please dont put so much
Water on my coffee grinds
What did I do to your story
To deserve this business from you
Please dont put so much
Water on my coffee grinds
This here ain’t the first time
I’ve wrastled with your jelly bean
Please dont put so much
Water on my coffee grinds
I can’t handle no more
Of your stealing time of mine
Please dont put so much
Water on my coffee grinds
I’ve got a long way
To be headin’ along today
Please dont put so much
Water on my coffee grinds
So I need your backdoor business
To leave it alone
Please dont put so much
Water on my coffee grinds
Or I wont be headed back again

I’m Gone

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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

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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.

Golden Dreams

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I cannot remember my golden dreams of yesterday.
Will my words be understood tomorrow?

Each of these laid with patience
Upon flat laid twenty pound unlined and rounded corners
Shall surely carry dust until curiosity reveals,
But the binary figures carried on electricity
Floating lazily upon some unknown bandwidth
In a region East of the Alps
Well, those messages remain vague.

Those messages may die without a subscription fee paid,
And the backups may need debugging or rerouting,
Ciphers and codecs may no longer be backwards compatible.

Our graceful new line of important thinkers
Good looking important thinkers
Looking good getting there
Are too busy to see through the mirror.
What has been forgotten (by them)
Is no longer opened.
All expecting return on investments.
The new band copies the old band
But the old band wont fight back,
The old band has been to that rock show
And lost a tooth there.

Youth are changing
Renaming, rewriting, shaming,
And forgetting
At too quick a rate
To remember yesterday’s golden dreams.
The books aren’t borrowed anymore,
Libraries replaced by computer zones.
Just an endless scrolling in dark mode
So the blue light wont effect
Brain’s melatonin tonight
Because now we know too much
And what we know is unimportant
Logos lost our gravitas.

Faint Echo

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Transmission loss is inevitable
With such broad spectrum distortion
Carrying a candle through darkness
Is a miner for gold
Or coal
Or anything that matters
To the lords of the underground.
But when I yell
It echoes back to me
Around the field
From the trees
From the hill
Between the buildings and back,
Which gives me motivation
To try again
Though my understanding is faint
As I watch a blowing bag
Floating in the wind.
Today it is not dusty,
Though a slight breeze comes on,
It is muggy and heavy
An extra 30 pounds to a person
That sweats through a shirt
With the mere though of lifting
An arm in toil.
So where do I sit
In such heavy silence?
At the crossroads
With a miner on my shoulder
Torn down ligaments
Effortlessly gazing
But with sharp eyes watching
Everything being lost.

My Suffering

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I am not a descendant
Neither an ancestor
I walk only
Upon land un-owned
I hear voices
That I may not know
And recognize patterns
Inside my zone
That don’t jive
With my dreams and goals.

So then shall I be reborn?
Shall I find within me
The God I shall be?
Listening and believing
Actions and ideals
In perfect synchronicity?

My barefeet stumble,
My pattern outlayed.
But I still step softly
In spite the growing
Disillusionment
Bearing down upon my
Alighted brow
So that this God in me
Is the God that you see
And my suffering
Is not the God that shall be
In you.

Alone, Within

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I believed in you more as an Oracle
Tongue tied and misery
A vision of perfection
I could not attain alone.

What does it mean to be alone?

I have clouds that tell me history’s greatest moments,
And flowers that share with me great healing.
I have sheep that teach me what patience is,
And goats who are with my to play,
Dogs who speak as they are my best friends,
And cats who are my ancestors.

Alone is a construct
Just as freedom and atomic are.
Just as balance and beauty claim to be.
I am not alone if I keep my eyes open,
My heart open, my ears open.
I am not alone if I am welcoming
And I am not alone if I am one.

What does it mean to be alone
Within one’s self?
Did you find it in full Lotus,
Or Tadasana?

Don’t ask if you can sit with me
For you have sat down here long ago.
I believed in you more as an Oracle
Than a maiden who has lived clear through it all,
Answering all questions with wisdom
I’ve read in ancient books,
As if your born again Nirvana
Is leading me on your path to my own.

I’m unruly,
And this is my own.
I smear my own self along pages
Just long enough
To clear blot my way to
Unsensible un-reasoning,
So that all I need is an Oracle:
A busy sign post with one flashing light.
But all I’ve got is a schoolbus,
Flashing lights of warning,
Danger signals of distance,
Red signs to Stop,
And a safety seat with a seat belt
That doesnt bump too much
As wheels turn
And this bus driver
Takes me further within.