Dungeon Boulders

Surely this is a swolen gland of memory
Cursing through my body
Pinching where I’ve been hurt before.

Should I starve you out?
Let you waste away like autumn flowers
Suffocating upon the bed you’ve made?

A cry from depths of my unconscious being
Let out like lightning bolts
Surging through my veins in callous blood clotting.

I hold the reigns, but I do not have this beast tamed,
Wild and friggart he still is
An uncouth I have yet to name.

I shall sweat you out
Heat driving mad, boiling away impurities
With a flame I have stoked ever higher
Designed to inhibit boulders
That this dungeon was built upon.

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.

Sitting Still With Pain

This sitting still is painful
I’ve lost the nerves and feeling
To do so anymore.
My urgency and anxiety
Makes an awful racket
At my closed bedroom door.

“Please wait.” I respond softly.

My body ever sore
And lacking desire to remain
Amidst stacks of laundry
And hairy dust balls.
Two fans blow at each other;
Is this a lazy wind?

Coffee cups with
Level lines equispaced
Down their insides
Invite me for another taste,
Which could be the cause
Of this shooting pain
Down my left side.

Or maybe the pain
Just comes from sitting here
Against my will
Struggling to sit
Struggling to lay
Struggling to get movement
My body so much enjoys.

As I move
Each itch of stiffness
Cries at me
Asks me if it’s ok
To be moving so.
I respond in silence,
How am I to know?

The Doctor hasn’t looked at me
Only repeats the same question.
The confusion on my face
Would tell him everything,
But a blindness from this summer sun
Must be my fever’s killer.

Yesterday

I thought I remembered you yesterday
Then I woke and you weren’t on my mind
In my fury I swallowed hard
Thinking of all the time I spent
Without your sweet smell beside myself
I wasn’t hungry like I told you so
But my trigger was a lofty chance
So I left you and your sideways glance
To find peace amongst the trees.

So and so it was again
So it came and so it went
So I heard your voice nevermore
So cold winter sprung away
So a warm wind blew my way
So I loved the place I stay
So I left you yesterday.

Secrets

Tell me your secrets today.
It’s raining outside
Like my wishes have gone.
I don’t want sadness much more
So I can sleep in the night
Without dreaming in symbols
Of the dreams I still have.

Tell me your secrets tonight
When I’ve had my dessert
I’ll sit listening intently
Awaiting heat to emanate
Through bones in my skin
Wrinkles and sin
Two ice cubes and you.

No more secrets my dear
It’s a sadness I cannot bear.
Your voice is too soft
My thoughts too far.
My cello keeps drawing lines
Upon the back of my neck.
Will you write me a new song
So I can sing out the last?
My heart keeps trembling
And my eyes keep closing.

It Hurt

Today’s coffee reminds me of the day
I ripped a six inch long
one inch deep hole into
the back of my leg.
Thirteen years old,
maybe I was fourteen
at my best friends father’s shop
he worked a lot with cement
and had a big yard
with mounds of gravel
we’d go up and down and around
on our new single track bikes.
It hurt
it hurts
and memories are always there
to bring me away
and back
to where some memories hurt
but ripping the hole
didn’t really hurt
flesh wounds are like that.

Sound/Vision

Who are you?
What is your sound/vision?
What guides your call?

Deep gulps of morning coffee
Flickering sounds
An empty wall
With little splash marks
Years of service gone by.

This pen fades
The more I write,
Like fallen leaves
Into enrichened soil
Rhythms have lost my voice
Telling me of better days.

Old Entrance Door

What is wrong with crumbling ground
Dirt building up and softening corners
As messages to my former youth.

I met a truth I should have known
Though long ago I had forgotten then
Stolen by a bass kick drum.

Trim around my old entrance door
Has worn a little more since,
Stars still there to light my heart.

Don’t let me see it
Or I’ll run away with my low E chord
When this silence is unbearable.

Cracks again begin to open up
Time can test and I’ll whistle along
Nail and hammer I’ll carry on.

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