So Long Ago

What is the hardest thing?
A glowing orb at an unending tunnel
Flashing lights in otherwise darkness
Moments of stillness broken by reality
A whisper one still remembers
Sun so long ago
And a night that must end.

But how soft it can often hit
Like haze on a full moons glow
Orbs opening
And a bead of sweat upon thy lip.

Pain can remain
And lost within thy brow
A handful often mistaken rashly
Just as this lingering upper back kink.

Lonely

Lonely
Like this ghost
I whisper my secret stories
Unwilling to chill
My nervous twitch.
My veins have begun to bulge,
My forecast is for rain,
My tulips are still
A long cold wait away.
So this whisper caresses
My ghostly remains
Turning effortlessly
Against swirling wind,
And painting my brightness
Gray, weathered and stained.

Dried Pen

My anger soaks me;
Leaflets floating to ground
With script precisely writ.
Daggars fly;
Pen dries and is again dipped
To lay out my pulsing veins
That have taken hold
Each cumbersome breath,
Each suffocating exhale,
And filled my hand with poison.

I dare not touch again.
Yet yearn I do so much
For even a deadly touch
So soaked in yearning’s pulse
That I feel
Faint throbbing at my neck
To gasp at last
A breath so soft
Anger’s taken leave
My life.

Faint Echo

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

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.

Slave’s Still Fight

I am immense
And stuck
And broken in my battle;
Giants tearing trees
And Titans throwing boulders.

How do I convey my meanings
When I am unreasonable
Living inside a dream
Of everyone’s meaning well.

Does my habit become your habit?
Do I lose myself into you?
Does my soil sprout many plants?
Can I hope to grow with you?

For my beast of rage
Within my deep breaths
Is evermore, everclear,
And hoping for more tomorrow
For my heart fights back
My heart fights for freedom
In a change
That cannot grow faithfully
To the slave of a great wrong.

Alone, Within

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.

Not Spoken

I’m not spoken anymore
Dried in a bottom of dust
Let my soul sing
With fire sparks tonight
Can’t I get along alone
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.

Forget every song
I’ve written all wrong
Glory and frail,
Perfect and undone
Startling morning sun
My breath: heavy hung
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.

Empty this bucket
Lost in a sea
Between footsteps
Greeting me
And it’s dark
Close my eyes
To forget
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.

I’m Interested

I’m interested, like the moon is interested in a ruksack.

Take me home, take me there, I want to see where you were made. And I’ll bring my spare tire so I don’t get stuck along the way, because I know a Legend of Boulders that weigh the most upon the road.

But after twilight, after my omnipotent vision among Cassiopeia disperses with Sun’s warmth and glow, I’ll still be looking to the sky, watching for each bomb to blow, each shifting sliver of this silver moon as it orbits slight off of thirty one.

I’m interested. I want to hear the whistle, for without the whistle, I know not who treads there though I’ve heard the Legend told here.

Stoic Beast

I’m not the beast of a nothing place
I’m rich in earth
And stoic like pine of a thousand years.
I don’t look you in the eye,
I devour your hormone
And wax upon each death of your breath.
In death, I spy;
In wind, I vanish;
In grace I am all fingertips
Touching sensitive spots
That have found their way
Into my eyes of a blank canvas.
And this is not the answer in you,
It is only the place I once knew.