Sunday, November 12, 2017


Running laps around the carousel 
Blitzing at American Dream speed
No time to think of why
Just churn out numbers until I die
I run straight smack into a monolith
It suddenly appeared right in my way
So massive, so resolute 
So beautiful 
I hit so hard my mind just stopped cold
I feared for my sanity 
I lost all semblance of bold
All thoughts stopped 
The words would not come
Silence allowed me to hear
The rhythms of the entire universe 
The ringing in my ears
Still screeches from the impact 
I hear the slumber of others
Their soft snores ebbing as the oceans 
I hear the cries of witches, warlocks
Selling their impotent potions
To the most delusional highest bidder 
But most of all I realize I have never been still before
I’ve never paused to realize the meaning of the floor
I’ve never seen such clear blue sky
I’ve never sensed the rain
I think the most disconcerting thing
Is I never felt my pain
This is why I’ve been so alone
I toss aside my humming phone
Looking up to the folds of granite 
I pause, I linger, I fold, I panic
At the thought I have to scale this
Yet even though I consistently fail this
I put all I have into the ascent
Which all I have is me
The fireflies begin to flicker, burn 
They begin to light a pathway
So though there fades the light of day

I still climb, I still ascend 

Especially when I am still 

Saturday, November 11, 2017

The Hope

The Hope
Poetry shouldn’t be forced
I’m not sure anything good comes from coercion
I’m so impeded, the words won’t come
They are there in my mind, in my soul
Yet there is this dark blockade
Anger, fatigue, self-doubt, irritation, impatience
These are the bricks in the wall

I so often wait around for inspiration
Inspiration is too fleeting, too fickle
I might be sitting on this rock for ages
Moss growing all around me
Growing on my face and eyes
While waiting to be mesmerized
The sun completes all its seasons

So I search for more, I look for reasons
Why all this is the way it is for me
Instead of resting along the trees
I wander off into the bramble
Thus the reason I mumble, ramble
Along the sidewalks of the mysterious plodding way

I still don’t know quite what to say

I still don’t know quite what to pray

Or how

I must go deeper than my brow
Maybe I must go higher
My skin has tired of these annoying briers
That daily scratch my skin
I wonder if my past, the lives of my kin
Have gone these overgrown life ways?

No, I cannot go backwards, that makes no sense at all
I set my eyes for the ambers of fall
Knowing there will be a winter

Christmas is coming

Thursday, November 9, 2017

The Way

The Way
I can feel the poems within me
Growing, moving, churning
Not yet ready to see the light
Yet building the light within me greatly
Sometimes I feel volcanic, ready to burst asunder
Sometimes there’s simply quiet, undercurrent
Moving the continents
One millimeter at a time
These senses are so subtle, sublime
Yet also they can be a sudden torrent
I don’t have my container ready to catch it all
The drops disappear into the warm, rich earth
Something will grow from them later
Something that creates a vast, deep crater
Too deep to see the bottom
Too wide to know the expanse
No droning lore or circumstance
Can describe or tame it
I can feel the poems within me
They grow, they move, they delight
They torture, they tense, they torment
All at once
All in a day
This is the way

Of the poet.


Saturday, October 28, 2017


I do not like walking around my neighborhood
It reminds me of how far I have not come
I never imagined my life to be this way
I lived the life of academic success,
Hard work
Be kind to everyone

Where am I?

Not where I was told I would be

Or maybe it is the way I’m looking at things
Maybe I’m not looking at what is really there
Maybe I’m seeing what I want to see

I do not know

That should be the title of all my poems

I do not know

That in itself is a place of panicked unfamiliarity
When I was young I knew all
I learned all
Everything was scientific fact
Not a speck of mystery in any of it
Though there was great wonder and order and beauty
No, not one speck of mystery

Then the oceans rose
The rivers came rushing in
Sweeping all of that away
I look back upon that memorable day
And wonder if I should celebrate
Or curse it
There seems to be nothing that can ever reverse it
The waters are always now shifting within me
Like the winds

So here I am
Another member of lonely land, the wilderness of millions,
Wondering why I’m here
What have I done
To be so fortunate, yet to be the one
That seems to never hit the finish line of destiny
Maybe there isn’t one
Maybe it’s in the running
The walking, the crawling,
Doing whatever it takes to continue moving forward
Never still

Never still

For in the moving waters, still is always moving backwards
Or forward if one simply yields
To the rhythms of the undercurrents
That flow within my very soul

I do wonder what is the definition of whole

I wonder more what it is like to experience it

I wonder if I'll ever know

I think I will, if I will only keep moving

Wednesday, October 25, 2017



I am not your savior for the day
Nor am I an expert in anything
All of these experts
I hear the future laughing at them
“Those thoughts are ridiculous!
Everyone knows that isn’t so!”
I just don’t want to be there
I don’t want to be in that group
Known for not just it’s ignorance
But for it’s obstinate arrogance in it all

I also do not wish to be amongst the ones
Who refuse to believe anything at all
Just to not be wrong
I cannot waver between correct and not
Trying to avoid the extremes
I must take my stand
Yet so it seems
The most reliable foundation of them all
Is the foundation I cannot see or feel

Can this be so?
Can this be real?
Do I set my life on something that is so bizarre
Instead of the universal comfort in ritual?

I don’t know

I cannot think clearly with all this noise
People blabbering nothings
Phones playing videos 
The Facebook and Twitter accounts brimming
Over the edges of the known universe
The trolls and horrific tales scream the lies
So loud no one knows the truth anymore

But yet there I go on a rabbit trail
No rabbits have been along here for decades
Only wandering, mumbling schizophrenics
Looking for their next doses of medications

I look up toward the sun’s rotations
And wonder when the next wonder will be
Will I even be around to see it? To know it?
Or will I have fallen asleep in the murmurings of my questions?

It’s been a long time since I’ve use any punctuations
I think that is a great sign
A sign I’m beginning to pause
A sign I’m beginning to pause and ponder the purpose of it all

A sign that I’m ready for the borderlines of an embrace

Saturday, October 7, 2017

Autumn (Change)

An introverted poet
Often it is an inanimate life
Filled with avoidance

People seem more like interruptions
Than the gifts they truly are
I can sit all night and wish upon a star
Yet if there is no one else to share it with
What does it ever really matter?

But reaching out is so hazardous
So much energy
So much risk
So much potential for pain
So much potential for love

I’ve reached the point of my abyss
Where I must choose to take the risks
Even if it is moment by moment by moment

Lots of slips and falls
Lots of angry retribution
Lots of cursing others
Much more of cursing myself
Yet I must get up again
Looking up toward the sunlight

I must not walk along the river
But through it
In it
Going along until it runs over my head
I pick up my feet and let it carry me instead
Of constantly fighting to keep my balance

Every step is a choice
Every choice is a step
I’m not sure why I’ve even chosen this direction
Other than deep within me my being cries out for me to

There must be something worthwhile at the end of this
Or maybe the treasure is scattered all along the route
With this thought my heart has a quiet shout
That is the first I’ve felt since my childhood

I must pursue the beauty, I must pursue the good
All while the good pursues me

I see the changing tree


Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Petting Pixie

Petting Pixie
When one can write about everything
It can be hard to write about anything
I could write about penguins and naps
I could talk about brie cheese or traps
There could be all sorts of adventuresome meanderings
Or I could simply sit here and pet the dachshund
Otherwise she would go on one of her infamous barking rampages
Looking up and around at only God-knows-what
I assume she sees the world that lies beyond
For otherwise there is nothing there I can see
I do know that living in this simplicity
Enjoying the moment with her head against my calf
Rubbing her ears as I pet her gently
Makes me wonder why we make such a bother
About things that 20 minutes from now won’t matter
So instead of trying to solve the world’s greatest mysteries
With what I have of my brain and what I have of my pen
Instead of bypassing the joy of this brief moment of Zen
I will pet the dog, look out the window at the mountains
Being thankful I am fully alive

Sunday, August 27, 2017

The Day After the Best Day

The Day After the Best Day
It’s funny how I want certain days to linger
Almost drowning in all of the goodness
Exhausted from the fun
Yet, a night of sleeping later
I awake to a sense that all of that is now a memory
There is stillness in the now
Unknowing in the future
I reach back to see what’s left from yesterday
And find much treasure there
Yet I know I cannot dwell there
Missing the treasure of today
The hope of tomorrow
I find that gratefulness keeps the memories whole
Fresh amongst the newly blooming flowers
Gratefulness keeps me right where I need to be
In the center of all of God’s goodness
So I take this moment in the right here and right now
I thank You for bringing me here
Everything has turned out for good
Just like You said it would

I am so thankful

Sunday, August 20, 2017

The Throne

The Throne
You know
I could drone on like the typical sad poet
But then I thought, “today
I don’t have to do that at all”
Yes there is darkness, evil, and ugliness
But there is also light, good, and beauty

I get to choose which one to focus on

Even in the midst of the chaos
I can settle right into the midst of the order
Even in the midst of death
I can choose to continue to live
And love

For that might just be the key

To love in the midst of everything
Might just be the source of all freedom
The source of all light, all good, all beauty

So I want to rest there
I want to run there
I want to sleep there
I want to dwell there

The place where I choose love over all other things

Might just be the most powerful place in the universe

Saturday, August 19, 2017


T=mg + ma
These paradoxes are killing this Western man
I’m told that giving up is the way to life
Then giving up is the way to shame
I’m told that rest brings me to peaceful healing
Yet I rest and become more lame
I’m not saying the truth is a lie
But what I am saying is that life seems immutably impossible
And I’m not really sure what I should do
The scientists attribute the darkness to biology
The preachers attribute the biology to darkness
In a culture of “I must know everything”
I think we know nothing, nothing at all
Suddenly I find this earth I’ve been anchored to
Is floating aimlessly in space
Possibly not aimlessly
Possibly toward a great destruction
Possibly toward miraculous life
I am told that this is my greatest decision
Is it really the electrons traversing the axons
That determines the universe’s fate?
Is it true we’re just a micron of a meaningless speck?
Like I said, the tension betwixt these two is so great
I feel I’m being torn in two
The dangers of that are none too few
Yet neither are the abundance of the treasures

Image by La Boheme, Google Images

Sunday, August 13, 2017


Im glad to hear children playing outside
Their laughter permeating all walls and barriers
Breaking through the barricades
Tearing down the bleak tirades
Of shortening days and greater distances
Greater distances that must be spanned
With great tenacity, greater veracity
All contained within the sounds of children laughing

I place my head on pillows soft
Gazing through windows, mineral-flaked, aloft
The power lines cutting through the gray skies
Golden, red, and fading-green leaves
Holding on for dear life
Even though death has clearly already come
But has it really?
Doesn’t the tree still stand?
It’s roots gone deeply into the life-giving land
Though the visibilities show death even still
Death cannot overcome life’s greater love-will

All this I see outside the window sill
The window not covered with stained interventions
Just deposits from the lives spent and gone
I lie here in the comfort of this throne

To overcome and to span the greater distances.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017


Too many choices now
I could spend the rest of my days
Searching for everything that is nothing
Toys, games, vacations, wares
Clothes, phones, mutual fund shares
I don’t even have to get up from the couch
I can sit here like a leather slouch
Consuming all that comes into my orbits
Yet there is always this stirring
There is always this stirring deep within
No rhyme, no reason, no cry, no whim
Seems to meet it or explain it
I think we all are made for something more
I think we all go beyond the meandering bore
Of the retail mall circuit
Not that any of the things we need are bad
Not that any of the things we want are ugly
But they do not define the who we are
They do not fulfill the rising star
That is continuously rising within our chests
I look for answers, I look for rest
It seems like it is only where the stillness resides
It seems it is where the mystery hides
It seems to go beyond all the reason
No shape, no circle, no time, no season
Seems to contain it at all

I look forward to the cool of fall
As I choose to go walk up the mountain


Sunday, August 6, 2017


I cannot tell if it is evil
I cannot tell if it is good
It might even be both
Just being tossed heels over head
Is this life or is this death?
Who can tell in these deep, cold waters?
Or maybe all of this tumult
Is a sign I am almost to the shore
But is that really where I want to be?
Didn’t I cry out for the deep?
Didn’t I ask to be here?
Yes I did.
So I have nothing to fear
I simply relax

Enjoying the swimming

Sunday, July 30, 2017

The Battle

The Battle
Sometimes I just sit and ponder
and wonder
At the great, great beauty of the world,
Versus the great, great evil
At first I thought all the evil was found
where people were 
I was right
However, then I realized
Some of the greatest beauty was found 
Where people were, where the people are
So people aren’t the problem
It points to a deeper source
A source hidden and dark and slithering
The tension of it all
Beautiful wonder there to cause me to erupt in wondrous joy
While at the same time the heartbreak of darkness leads me to put a gun to my head
Pulling the trigger
Scattering all those visions of grisly horror and tumult away
That wouldn’t do a damn thing
The evil would still exist
And there would be one less soldier to fight it
I fight a battle that is part of a great war
The war has been won already
Yet there are up-risers on the loose
I stray away from the meaning of this day
To see the extremes of great beauty and great horror
All existing on this same planet
Which one will overcome?
Isn’t it amazing…

It is up to you and to me to decide

*Image is not mine, but was obtained from Google Images