on passing an old cemetery…

on passing an old cemetery…

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there- ! storm clouds a’ gathering
o’er the grave- of my brave- dead king
pray-tell, what portents, will this bring
more dead wars-
more dead kings.

notes… sometimes I don’t know from where it comes (inspiration that is), I was passing a cemetery, not as old as the country, much older than years I can know by touch… and the words just popped into my head, the idea of a surviving warrior, longing for former glory but also realizing the horror…

orphans…

orphans…

a thing I do from time to time… just snippets or things I never finished, I always intended to finish, but I am a creature of the moment usually so I do not go back, maybe I will… nah, probably not, so here is some snippets, do with them what you will.. my orphans, take care of them in your head…

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(1)
erotic patterns

curves
sultry lines drawn in sand
a back, a palm
by the hands of wind
sliding across the mounds
silently caressing grain by grain

(2)
the psalms of wind
and the homilies of wings

I really like (2)… now, I have to admit it has nothing to do with (1) except me posting them together, and in a weird way it makes sense together… but they were just scraps, but who knows? maybe this is what the universe wanted to impose, and so it is.. because it has happened, am I getting to vague ?

the survival imperative…

the survival imperative…

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in the awakening
might I tread lightly on
as the sky explodes with dreams
spread tethered out on cotton streams

a requiem for a thief,
for I am-
a consumer of all things
until I become threadbare, myself
a baron of composition
bereft of fruit
to wither into the aether
to claim my time
to cling to life
I, survive.

notes… we slide in and out of this existence to fast in cosmic time… I hope this is just a train stop in the converging line of time and dimensions…

vapor… we are or were and will be…

vapor… we are or were and will be…

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the house of lost souls

for am I faint
my words are thoughts
only whispers in drought
carry-on in the airy realm-
for my feet are not on this ground,
my body-
but a fading shroud
a lone sense
a vague sense of place

for I was attached to but a name
now my shackle is curious bound
round the round I orbit this base
just past the touch
in the realm between
of know and known
this is this place, my home

notes… we are, in many ways a beautiful culmination a molecular miracle generation, but we are also temporal, how do we as thinking beings reconcile this? I don’t know… I know religions cover this, but how can a religion formed by us in these scant few years of human existence on this one planet, in the infinity of space, cover this? wrapping our heads around impossibility or inevitability is anathema to the human mind… because we want to survive just as the simple bird does hatching eggs in spring… that thread binds all living things, is that god speaking to us? I guess I will have to wait for my end for a real answer… or none… hence the conundrum…

blue ‘phin

blue ‘phin

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in the miles of the blue
pointed eyes navigate the blur
imagine skimming
skipping along
like a trance
or a song
spinning through the air
darting among
with thrush
and a rush,
bobbing for air
when the need arise
coursing, like a vein
these are the days of pure freedom
swimming in unison
with my brethren
in these miles of the blue
stretched out in all directions

notes… I think the music fits the feel of this one… of course I am partial, I am me you know, this is my blog so…
sitting bull…

sitting bull…

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so let me sit here for awhile-
longer-
to figure out

to ponder-
how to redo the past
to undo the done
and so frozen
watching the footage
over and over
always the same ending
but expecting a new one

notes… I know I am my own worst enemy… how do I battle myself, when I know myself so well.. perhaps that is true of us all… I try, I fail… but I know, I know I can try harder… so why don’t I? I know the clock is ticking, I fear it…. I know it… our lives are so finite and short… and we never know what is around the next corner, I am near the fifty year mark but still don’t live like tomorrow is the end.. I should, I know I should, “I should”… maybe that will be on my gravestone if I opt for one.. to mark a spot,.. but why bother… who will come.

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

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are we fibers
or just strings
or links in a chain
I wonder
as I hold you closer

I imagine
we begin to combine
at the molecular level
can we now pass through each other?
or simply merge
for a moment
two spun as one
no wonder
the separation
feels
as this does

notes… lost love letters staccato style (as I call it), I am very aware of rhythm in my words and flow… maybe it is all in my head, sure, but those who get it are wired into my frequency, I do not expect that to be everyone, just you, so thanks for the time, any and all comments are appreciated

the birthing…

the birthing…

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“a postulation on the transient nature of self”

a colony
prescribed by the hand of time
ordered into the womb of god
delivered
and so you are

notes… sometimes things pop in my head, I could tell you I am not religious because I am not, but does that mean I do not believe in something higher… how can we just be dropped here right now on this little marble in the middle of supreme vastness ? sure, it could all be random, but I would rather think a hand is moving things behind the scenes, I’m probably wrong, so what… in the end it does not matter, so I choose to believe my life has meaning…

particle evolution… (probably a bad title for a post, but accurate)

particle evolution… (probably a bad title for a post, but accurate)

so then,
I am of so many leaves
when my winter makes the call
even me, a summer’s child, after all
I am so, just a grain of sand
lost in great swaths
moved by airs and seas;
I am just a lost fingerprint-
in the generations of humanity
a molecule of a mind
once mine
destined to rise again
but never to this form
myself, this again
so then,
will I travel the universe
as a particle
burst out when our sun’s end sets
to coalesce, perhaps
to exist, perhaps
once again
so then, I wish
to become
I wish to become then – a dream.

notes… I think often, and I admit I have a semi panic attack, about, you know… the end… I try to rationalize it as we all do, and all those before have, and all after will… it is a hard one to fathom, I can convince you that in some physical way we all are perpetual, but as an individual is my life some 100 year span in the countless billions a lost ship in the vastness of an ocean we can not even comprehend… ? I have hope, that this vastness provides a vessel for my existence. I can argue that I did exist.. I am… but what happens when this existence ends for me, am I gone … forever ? I did / do exist but the prospect of not having consciousness is frightening at times… the pure lack of control over, well, anything… all I can do is hope and pray there is something out there that created me and you for a purpose… what that is? I can not say for sure, I don’t know, I don’t have the answers… and I struggle with it…. but also the idea that no matter what I do the inevitable is the inevitable.. that is impossible to square at times…. but I try, I try.

rain dance…

rain dance…

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I wish the whimsical
I pray, I dance
on the drum skins of the old gods
lying forgotten in the thunderlands
I shout out, in trance
to transform this grassy prairie
into the bounty of lush forestlands
may brooks break the backs of the deep plates
and carve-cut out the roadways
for life to venture out upon
quench the sponge until overflow
from bird to bee, proliferation
all manner of life, let this be

notes… one of those that snuck into my skull, I found myself in ancient america at the foot of the grasslands, and wondered what it would have looked like if forest had extended outward coast to coast.. so this is that work…