nature of being.

nature of being.

do not fear the snake
if you are a snake
be aware
to bite first

notes… semi haiku, I mean in feel, I did not count the syllables and obviously this is not 3/5/3 of 5/7/5… but no one owns the rights to the form… (or at least I am not aware of such a copyright claim), and in terms of the content of this post… heck, this is almost laughable… these words popped into my mind while watching Conan the Barbarian (the original)… so art from Arnold.. yep… I was thinking of the snake scenes and symbolism (which is all woven throughout that movie)… so keep your eye out as to what inspires… thoughts?

machinery (parallels)

machinery (parallels)

I wonder of the running machinations
processing in those memory banks

that still dream in DOS
connections soldered
into the past
by their own regard

notes, I wanted the lines to have flow – but not perfect flow, like a machine that is input in / output out…

storms like tides…

storms like tides…

no, quite literally
just moments ago
or an hour, who can be sure
the skies were black with rage
and blazing flash
rain highway sideways, pelting the windows

so temporal, all this
so trapped in moments, we become

for oh sun, now shines
how light is cast against darkness

in contrast
I feel the despair leeching out of very my skin
as if being pulled out string by string
by an invisible, palpable, force of hand – yes
and quite suddenly
I am transformed
long forgotten, the storm

my island…

my island…

Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

may I stay
and sway
forever, in the lands beyond
like a frond
of a perfect palm
hand drawn

stark outline
in the setting sun,
shadow on sand
dancing,
to the gentle song
of the waves
sliding,
into the shore.

notes… if, no when, I go to sleep, for in this life, I wish to be on the shore, water is the force of life, and I want to be at that shore for all time, if I can be, or least that is my dream… I hope this work conveys that sentiment, for it is my sentiment before I become sediment for I will… all my love, all my consciousness will be transferred to that, that golden shore, of my dreams, and so will I be, for the immediate eternity, a dream along the beach, so I hope, so I dream….

the survival imperative…

the survival imperative…

Photo by Harrison Candlin on Pexels.com

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…

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

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…

we are, in the air…

we are, in the air…

on the air’e

nary a worry
bare’ing on the cloud countenance
fair recompense
for seasons spent –
in blankets
distant time
now in slumber
in the gloaming
a solid azure temple looms
testament to that coming soon
if joy had a soul and a mate
written ‘cross this beaming sky
even up on the skin of suns
doth sing, doth rejoice
hymns of the life of promise
for even death’s dark heart, is warm’d
I would not foretell a gospel of such emancipation-
the atmosphere, she is in courtship
with every breath drawn in
on the air’e –
rides sensations
eyes that have had this common pause
this common cause down unto a leaf
the beauty say keep
from within my hand
into the very ground
reflecting back, our wonders
spin-spinning faster
the sunlight slides
out across the landscape
flat shadows stretch long
they affirm my existence
for now, at least – for now.

whimsy…

whimsy…

Photo by Noelle Otto on Pexels.com

in search of rain
or perhaps some wine
promise to sing
whichever lends me the time
to dance the whirl
to let go of the world
a hop, a skip, a jump from a curb
fly for an instant
downward splash
forget all troubles
blank-in the past
ignore the future
tunnel-in-to now
take a deep sip
take a bow,
take this all in-
for this is now
soak up the time
for your time is now.
(with joyous intent)