My Mountain in the Rain (day 1280)

My mountain has been falling down,
Leaving holes the size of crowns.
I look to learn the makers name,
But eyes, unblinking, stare through the rain.

Could this new path design the way,
A thousand years been left unpaved.
I cry with every brick to fall,
Towards my future, the Grand Ball.

In my distance I feel no pain,
I shudder lost on through the rain
Amidst clear guidelines and diplomats;
Hidden secrets swept under mat.

Up and up and up my gaze
Fights through the foggy haze,
For as my mountain falls apart
Answers dart from end to start.

Clearly, says I, to my maker, my God,
What has become, why is there blood?
Why are my knees no longer strong?
What force has left my music gone?

My Land | Chapter XII (day 1179)

I could feel John-bo getting nervous with so many wolves around so I dismounted and carried on by foot. He was a good horse and would come when I needed him.

Because of my up-wind advantage I was able to get quite close to the pack. I counted nine of them, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get more than four before they dispersed.

I could make out the two alphas I had come to know. They were restless and stood back a way as the others seemingly oblivious to anything around them lazed in the afternoon blood sun.

I noticed neither one of them had feasted. Neither had blood on them.

I knew these two.

The previous fall I had had a run-in with the two while out checking my lines. It was a cold winter day and I had my head down as I plowed snow. A fresh layer lay on my path. My snow shoes helped. The black one with the white stripe between it’s eyes had been watching me for quite some time before I realized it, I guessed. I wasn’t sure whether it was wanting to become my friend or whether it knew about as much as I did about what to do.

At any rate, there it was about 20 meters to the North along the edge of a copse of birch trees. As soon as I raised my long barrel it disappeared. No more than 15 minutes later as I was coming around a large Fir tree it was right in the middle of my path waiting for me. As we both stood there motionless in the cold winter air, our breaths floating away like our whispering spirits, I saw the white one with the black nose tracing the path the white striped one had taken.

There was no shock. No cause for alarm. They weren’t growling at me, bearing all their fangs to scare. They were just watching me, like they might do to as their cubs played in the fresh earth.

[note: to read the full epic track my land]

My Land | Chapter XI (day 1178)

XX

Our pack of lambs had started with one ram and three ewes. Tim and Casey had mentioned they were interested in starting a herd and our land was perfect for having them graze.

The only problem we anticipated were the wolves, coyotes, and natives. I had taught Tim everything I knew about a gun, and my long barrel was always oiled.

We pooled our money from a few rabbit, beaver, bear, and wild cat pelts we had trapped on our lines over the year and the following spring I brought the four sheep home from Missoula along with the seeds for the years plant.

That was three years ago now.

I remember holding the first baby lamb in my hands the following spring and realizing that this is what starting a family was like. Something I had only a glimpse of when I was married.

I thought of how timid those first three lambs were as I would accustom them to me as I watched the wolves enjoy the summer blood soaked sun.

[note: to read the full epic track my land]

Delirium (day 1067)

I do not know where the rose petals fell;
Floating from my conscience as I lost sight of all.
Leaving an impression, like tail winds trickling
Into the evanescence of my breath.

But you who art sight! What cometh of thy history,
Lost into thy pool of still waters shaking.
I fell one warm, kind day – a moon’s length away,
Into the feelings of a warm blooded kiss.

My littered floorboards of mother natures spoil
Tickled my memory while I shook out my whiskers.
I laid there and laughed for the whiskey surged my sour,
And love settled down beside me, for I was delirious.

The Last of My Soul (day 1032)

For the last of my soul
Lingered between barnacles,
To which, much to my dismay,
Spread blood amongst salty bubbles
Relocating my healthy initiative
– Re-digesting my acquired taste –
Into little bits of fish-bait.
My conscience flittered
Into spraying mist
Diving deep to discover
The last of my soul

Hemoglobin (day 1021)

Don’t purchase my love;
I want you to bleed.
I want you to lay down
And sacrifice everything,
A pure devotion
Of unrelenting desire.
A life long pursuit
Of fear and anger
And joy and jubilee
And blood.
I want you to bleed.
And for me to feed
The ever increasing need
Of hemoglobin
With my raw and carnal instinct,
So omnipresent
That you shall become me.
And I will be your lifeline.

Spells in Rouge (day 1005)

A whisper so hard it broke down my spell
It scared enigma into heaven (or hell)
It washed away dirt with sputtering rains
And bellowed my sorrow into blood diamond eyes

But shivering silently in 2nd hand bespoke
Was a crimson laughter settled in with a smoke
That footsteps sung to all evening long
Fiddlesticks and canyon guns and school yard home runs

Shed not tears into these nostalgic shakes
Be not without faith, my ruby candied cakes
Memories are to guide you forth, a long settled score
Into night’s conquest march with a battling roar (whisper)

Then lifting my eyes to tender so bare
Lightening bolt shine struck with red-velvet boud-air
I shuffled to my flagpole in a partners embrace
And broke spells in a whisper, hardly a trace

Crowd Sourcing (day 1004)

An eager atmosphere pushed the Devil to yell
He barked at the moon like he was rattling hell!
And out from the works came scuttling all
To exercise weeping; watch the blood fall

Leveraging our fathers (our mothers) with time
In a forceful toil-workers rhyme
Which consumed a brackishly concocted design
Of feathers and chicken bones and half frozen lime

We beat reason into apathetic institutions
Who spoiled magical innocence and intuitions.
We followed the Devil with dazzling premonitions
And were left alone; a severe lack of solutions

But whispers died slowly as the fog rolled away
Laughter could be heard above those who’d been slay
All in a night which reeked of delay
And the Devil returned home carrying his lay

Dropped from a Thorn (day 941)

How do you love without losing
Without spreading open hearts and tears
Like eyes closing, it’s ending in silence
And personal crushing sinks in

But I, the monster, sinking it in
Scream out like bats whipping through night air
A full moon lurks beyond vision
Unknown and omnipresent; thoughts and sight

Writing my love letters
With blood dropped from a thorn
Splattering into a vial
Collected for these poems

I do not remember or recall
Or recede into a sheltered abyss
I do not wash my skin clean
But I am purity, spread open and sheen