Words

Take them
speak them
see them
churn
Syllables crawling
spinning, clawing
freely turned.
Whip them
soothe them
love to let them
linger for the burn.
Aching blessing,
listen guessing,
minds unfurl.
Use them,
consume them,
believe them,
don’t be spurned.
Light step dances,
crossing lips,
and tongue tips,
spilling hope
for which we yearn.

Heart in the Mountains

My heart is hammering in my chest and sweat is a faucet from my disheveled hair staining a shirt, and lower down, jeans that haven’t been changed in days. I feel quite certain that death is imminent on several levels, but man look at the view.

White water crashing through a mountain side so big it could just as easily be the backdrop for a movie set as be real. This trail I’m perched next to leads deep into the peaks and crosses the river in the way that a glitter strewn hike at a unique deep woods hot springs did many lifetimes ago. I have no doubt the top is beautiful–but so–right now, is the view from down here. Such as it is, even in the kaleidoscopic myriad of events in life we sometimes have to look up out of the maze instead of revel from the heights.

If I had accepted that as a mentality, I surely would have been able to enjoy the elevation up there better as well as rolled more smoothly with the valleys.

Tomorrow is another day, and for the moment, while I may have found myself here on the wings of a story that felt heartbreaking familiar, and events that leave my imagination twisted with concern and a sense of deepest confusion – I’m thankful that this is where it brought me.

I have nightmares nightly, unending tweaks with mental and emotional nudging to contend with daily it seems, all repercussions from some shitty life choices. Carving out this moment was so worth it. I mean after all what good is being an oddball if you can’t find yourself in the forest half expecting friendly woodland critters to come out and greet you with sage wisdom and adventure?

All while sober as a clam.

Today has been a much better day than I thought it would be, thank you cosmos, or Loki, or God. I’m sorry for any missteps along the way as I stumble through this life looking for footprints home while leaving some new ones of my own. I’m heartbroken all over again at my amazing capacity for ignorance and irrationally hurtful actions to those that care(d) enough to wade through the soup of a catastrophe my life has been. I have always thanked the world in glib commentary, resentment, stubborn bullheadedness, and plain ire – rarely gratitude. The stupendously complicated feelings of loss and remorse I feel over the mixed actions and emotions I’ve had of late makes it feel good to find at least one solid sensation that I can rest my hat on momentarily.

One day isn’t much to repair a lifetime of shit parades and Richter scale registering chaos…but it’s a starting point and I’m appreciative for it.

Sunshine Highway

One more time through that fucking door. It’s heavier than ever but maybe that’s because I finally know the weight of all the waste and damage left behind. The broken smiles and hearts in both directions, and only the fucking Gods know what the real goal was. It’s a slog ahead in the best of circumstances, and whether or not it means anything in the end I guess rests on something everyone has to figure out in their own time. Wish I was faster, or maybe slowed down a bit…hell, my fucking stories aren’t even what I thought they were anymore. When you’re the hand that twists the rope into a nkkse, even if someone was dangling it there with subtle suggestions that you might feel like you’re flying…still your hand that did it. So to everyone the helped and cared, thank you. For all the shit that I didn’t and still don’t get that had some kindness or humanity behind it that I ignored or didn’t see…thank you for your patience. For the mercenary fucks that twisted out the last strands of anguish or chuckle at the wounds of another, I’ve done it myself, and it’s still fucking horrible. To the ones I can’t or will never be able to speak with again, you have no idea how badly I feel about what’s gone on. To the kids I left behind in my selfish and narrow world. I will always regret my choices and love you more than you can imagine. Fuck it all…..one last time.

Night Tan Under the Supermoon

Layer a white cold blaze

in circular pool

hung

where the reflection of day

carries to the infinite

teeming void.

Shadowscape of eternity

ever beyond 

incandescent blue skies,

milky clouds,

beyond sun-blinded sight,

always sitting.

Wonderland of possibilities

bending even science

to use imagination.

Endlessly faltering

towards an unknowable end.

The Gods baubles

spin deftly

through the deepest darks

of cavernous black gone noir.

Never bound,

never stuck,

not clasped tight inside

of opulent bondage 

as we marching mortals

on our madhouse Earth.

Into that idea –

that dizzy concept which

forged new words

to try and constrain

something so terribly VAST –

where all is birthed

through cataclysm,

fiery destruction,

demises so profound

dust from their corpses span eons,

rages as a furnace

crafts awakening

in billions of new forms.

Peace is found

within mirrored 

microcosm eyes

of any

who would choose to pray,

take silent reverie

in joyful awe,

of beauty without boundaries,

and their own

immeasurable nothingness.

Rhymes with Crass

Liar.

You brittle sword blades that play at being soft,
with your fucking allure and goddamn velvet looks.
All supple and inviting,
green and enticing,
even though I know you’re full of bugs.
I’ll lay down,
Sucker for your edges on my skin.
That’s Spring,
time for lying shoots,
stubborn goofs.

Gigi

Dogs love grass.
Friends until the end.

Crazy dog on a leash nipping the beak of an Alpaca,
a little bundle of terror–so damn happy.
She’s out on four paws in the noonday shade,
fucking with a goat-kid we saved from the grave.
Throws herself carefree in the still biting grass,
rolls until she can finally hit that perfect spot in need of a scratch.
No shame in her game as those jowls go flapping,
smiling like the devil inside,
bounds off into the hills,
roaming free now,
ignoring all but her truest calling.
Glinting light off one scarred eye,
covers up the mysteries of whats come to pass,
it’s always in the past,
and we’ll know not why.

Clang

Ticking clock composite for what the future watches,
saw the spacial structuring as it was burnt and smelted.
Never know which way is up,
as gravity devolves and we drink deep from empty cups.
Supposing that the gene’s were there,
no one can know that structure favored some real logic
though they did it with spine thrust care.
Neutron bursts and radiation all colorful and full,
offspring of a larger source,
all with random misfires to cross the finish line
not programmed delinquency,
ad hoc moments of instant shock

A Tiger in a River

Chalk dusted finger tips with an adrenaline jolt, zip-lined neuroses adjudicated by the moment. Lost in torn pants with a carabiner thread, socially anxious and awkward but alone and without the dread. Gripping on with rubber soles to shaky rock faces that feel so full. Flashback moment to a Tinsel strewn river, if I could take it back I wouldn’t pause though time chases me forward and I don’t know how to abscond from it’s endless quiver. I’m still fletched after return though I know somewhere I missed a target, if wishes were fishes I would have at least saw it. Easier to murmur the words to myself, ride the curve up where it’s simpler to stare down at the gulch. I know that it’s basic to stay on a track, ask not the questions that are staring right back.

Creature comforts exchanged for a soul, I suppose that’s one lesson I never learned right when I was out in the cold. It’s wicked out there, in the beauty and grease. Amidst all the foragers of life, love and what to wear while we bleat. If the greatest of tokens was untouchable sadness with no way to atone, then here on a hillside covered in muck, I’d whisper to the shadows that flicker “thanks for giving a fuck.” Without their whistled movements to cast contrast to light, the trees would feel lifeless, faded out, make for a lackluster sight.