Saturday, June 23, 2018

Writer's Block



Writer’s Block

I haven’t written

Sometimes creativity sits
Like a dark black molded growth
Against the side of a dead tree stump

But even that tumor is alive
Even that blotch of ignorance
Is living

I don’t know if I want to share such things with the world
I’m not sure we’re meant to handle the recycling
The remolding
The renewing of everything

But then again maybe we are

And though my creation might not be bright as the star
It is still a creation and holds life

Right in the midst of all this death

I have written

6/23/18

Dedicated to all caught in the midst of the struggle between life and death...

Saturday, June 2, 2018

The Guardians



The Guardians
The guardians tower above
They’ve stood here for millennia
Silence, stillness, stalwart
Awe
The oceans have smacked persistent
Never stopping, never wavering
Yet still they stand their ground
Keeping watch, their beauty abounds
Keeping watch with their peaks in the mists

I’m not quite sure I’ve known such bliss
As being in the shadows of the champions

5/28/18

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Impossibilities



Impossibilities

It is nearly impossible 
For a poet to walk by a flower
And not be captivated 
Captured by beauty
To pause for a moment 
Or for maybe almost an hour
This brevity tends to be the normal for me

Saturday, May 12, 2018

Beginning Anew



Beginning Anew

It’s frightening beginning all over again
Frightening
But necessary
Often every day
Often every few minutes
I have to start again
Humbly change course to the new
I wish that steady courses were all too true
But alas they are not

Only change is the Rorschach’s blot
That determines whether I dwell inside of sanity
That determines whether I live amongst the ashes of the past
Or the ephemeral mists of the future
Or am I present in the present?
I feel a great and growing dissent
Amongst the souls of my spirit, its armies
Are ready to rise and see what all is good
They are ready to see what all is happiness
Death has reigned for far too long
Death in the form of rules so rigid
That they snap at the slightest breath
Life always seems to erupt through the bricks
The bricks and the concrete cannot hold it back
Life is always placing roots deeper and deeper
Steeper and steeper is it’s climb toward the sun
All I know is that the pursuit of fun
Is leading me toward the meadows
I hear the rivers running toward them as well
I think it’s time to break this shell of a mask that covers my face
I dwell in lonely, in sharp disgrace
no more

5/12/18

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Questions


The Questions 
Maybe this is my refusal to leave the tent
Maybe I’m just done
Maybe I simply have no clue 
What is always going on 
Though I have nothing left
Or so it merely seems 
I still sit here amongst the place
Of all my dead and dying dreams

So what now?

What now?

What is to become of all this waiting?
What is the purpose of all this carbon dating ?
What water will I drink from these ancient wells
While the ocean that dwells within me has no wave nor swell?

The questions ripple through the waters
Yet they seem to never return 
I believe they have not struck the cliffs
The mammoth rocks I’ve heard of but I have yet to see 

The things I know are real 
Are the things I never see

Maybe it’s time to follow the questions 
They are like the homing pigeons 
Always knowing where the answers live
The place my heart simply knows as home

Time to roam

With a purpose 

I feel the call within 

To follow 

Yet where is the way?
Where did that ripple go?
That’s ok, I’ll just ask another question 
Because there’s everything that I do not know




Thursday, April 5, 2018

The Stone



I follow a blog on Word Press entitled “Walking with a Smacked Pentax.” It’s a fascinating blog written by James Elkington. He walks about the lands of Scotland, Northern England, and Wales taking photographs and telling stories of the areas he is photographing. It’s a great blog and I think I love it most because it shows me the land of my ancestors, land that I’ve never set foot on, but land where I know my DNA resides.
The other day he posted some photographs from the Scottish Highlands and I was particularly struck by one image, an image of the Praying Hands Stone. As I looked at it I had a poem come to me and I quickly wrote it down. I asked James if I could share his image with my poem and he very graciously agreed to. So today I share the photography of James Elkington along with the poem I wrote about it. Hope you enjoy!
Praying Mary's Hands Stone copy (1)
The Stone
I wonder if in all of our scientific prowess 
We have lost the things that matter most
Maybe it’s our materialism, our naturalism
They’ve led us to the answers
But the answers are not alive
They are dead and cold numbers
Mere equations and complicated formulae 
That leave our brains full
Our hearts completely empty 
A desert where no love or imagination 
Brings colors back into the scenery
I think the time has come 
For a both, and an and
A time where human beings
Become human again 
Using our discoveries for the good of us all
Leaving room for our lives full of colors
I simply know if I had my druthers 
I would let love and wisdom live side by side


James’ blog can be found at https://smackedpentax.wordpress.com. Go check it out 🙂

Sunday, March 4, 2018

Universe (Microcosm)



By California standards it has been cold and rainy for the last several days. So today, when the sun came bursting out and the mountains decided to show off their new snow clothes, I decided to get outside and make some Vitamin D. I sat down and looked at the ground to see what you see in the photo. The rest is history....


Universe (Microcosm)

There is an entire world here
A forest of vast proportions
Unlimited resource
And beauty
Just the right light
Just the right moisture
Just the right soil
Just the right place
Or everything is all erased
Into atom and nuclear nothingness
Yet there had to be a spore
There had to be a word released
Spoken in the moistened darkness
Life still only comes from life
And though there is worry, disease, and strife
The fact those three words are sad to me
Means there must be something good
And gold
Or otherwise it all would make none the difference
So here I sit above this universe of green
Wondering just what everything means

While gazing at the answer