From Here

Grey morning mist 
A damp coolness covering
Everything outside

The last of these days
The beginning of many others

Paths and roads
Feeding one another

Love is a shadow

Simple Joys

I held my niece in my arms this morning
while she drank her milk through a straw
She held the cup in both of her hands
as she drank and drank until there was no more
She is big now but not as big as she will be
I remember her infancy and the mornings
I would care for her and feed her
Cradling her in my arms
Holding the bottle of formula
As her small hands touched
Either side of the bottle
It is simple and joyous
To see her grow and change
And gradually become
The person she will one day be
For now I try and
Let these moments come
And enjoy them
Sweet girl
There is light enough in you
To shine in both our lives

Junk

All the junk accumulating in this world
Gathering dust in bedroom closets
Rusting away in forgotten sheds
Old photos aging invisibly
Mementos of memories
Lives lived and relegated
To obsolete ephemera
We die and the junk
Is thrown away
Or taken by someone else
To sit somewhere else until
The process is repeated
Bury or burn me
I will be another thing
That has outlived it's usefulness
That day is yet to come
Your day is yet to come
Gather the junk
Throw it away
Or let it cloud
Space

Morning 12/29/17

Living on in memory
even as these bodies
age and disappear

Flip the invisible switch within yourself
Thought and Action are the key

Doors opening and closing
Let in the light

Morning 12/28/17

To fail is to be humbled.

You begin again
Again
I have been here before
And I am here now
What has been learned
How must I move forward
To undo these mistakes
To come closer to the ideal
To move away from this
This is the moment once more
To step back
Take stock
And begin again
Again



If all your love was gone
and the wells went dry
Could you still live out
your days on this barren land?

The Drive

Alone together we go
Up the 5
Miles of emptiness
Stretching vast
Past the towns
And gas stations
Along the way
Miles and hours
Fall behind us
Town to City
To nothingness
Drive through it all
Searching for the place
We hope to find
And we'll know it
When we stop there
Small town by the sea
No stop lights to be found
Just a solitary stop sign
At the town square
Rolling hills of green
By the cemetery
Waters lapping the tiredness
Away from our eyes

Morning 12/27/17

There will be peace in the valley

There will be peace in your heart

There will be peace in the valley

even if everything falls apart

There is light coming through

the cracks in the wall

There is light

There is light

There is light

within

Contemplation / Morning 12/26/17

I woke up thinking

about wanting to free myself

from my bodily desires

To free myself from my bad habits

of drink and food

To move more

To feel the wind and sky more

To explore more

To slowly move from my room

to this outer world once more

I want to be more

I want to feel more

But only I can bring this dawn

This remains in my hands alone

This is my choice

This is what I must remember

This is how I must act

What was good enough can no

longer be acceptable

I must let myself be more fully

present in the present

This - the eternal now

Always

Always here

Discipline

Control

Growth

I must master myself

to foster these

To receive love

To give love

To receive love

To give love

To receive love

To give love

Dying days of a dying year

We look towards the sun

towards the moon

towards the stars in the heavens

Looking for an answer

Looking for reassurance

to get us through the days ahead

Winter  at our feet

Dreams of Spring 

just further ahead

God is within

What does this mean?

Have you considered

that you are the expression

of universal consciousness

that you are in fact 

an incarnation of God

We are all God

in this fashion

Flawed and finite

as part of an infinite

timeline stretching 

far behind and ahead of us

plucking of strings

drops of rain

resonance

sound bleeding into air

lungs breathing 

I am the steward of this body

My spirit

My body 

This place I call my own

Here
We are free
Together

A Christmas Message

As I have grown older I have had to define what my relationship
to the holiday season is. My mother said 'Christmas is for the
children." In a certain sense she is absolutely right. We generally
skew the Christmas holiday towards giving presents to children
and young ones. This material expression of love is a benign thing
if kept in check. As time has gone on I have grown fully disinterested
in the material aspect of the holidays. That is not to say that I do not
still desire material things, I do, but I prefer to get for myself that
which I want instead of placing expectation on others. The sentiment
I carry this season is the idea of spending time with those you love.
Those family and friends whose presence in your life is truly the gift.
The importance of creating experiences and memories is something
that we can always carry with us through the changes in this sea.
We are now in Winter, the season of cold, the season of a barren
land. In earlier times there was much to fear in this time. In our age
it feels more a stark reminder that we should always prepare for
lean times before Spring brings the new dawn. I suppose this has
been a wordy, roundabout way of saying Merry Christmas and
Happy Holidays, no matter what you do or don't believe, or who
you're spending it with. Chances are I'm grateful for your continued
presence in my life and the chats and things we have yet to do
together. You are the gift, today and always. Take care, Everyone.
Love you.

When the Earth was young 

and we were old. 

Hear and Understand

What is the value of speech
if no one can hear?

What is the value of hearing
if we cannot understand?

How can we rise above
our differences?

Are we still capable of
seeing beyond that
which divides?

We have to believe this
is still possible.

We have to believe there
is still hope.

Morning 12/23/17

Snowfall
Silence of morning
Warmth of your body
This is the world
Nothing exists
Nothing matters
Only this

This is home
This is beginning and end
Close your eyes
Morning is burning bright through winter


In the summer of my life
I worry
I fret
I am alive
Healthy
Breathing
This  brief window
To feel everything I can
To exist

Creation and Healing

The power to create change is always within our grasp.
We do not always see or feel this power within ourselves
but it is there. One does not have to remake the world
to feel this power. It is present when we wish to take
small steps to bettering our lives, whether physically
or spiritually.

If you are looking for healing
Start now
Look within yourself
From here all emerges

Beautiful Gina

You're about to leave the bar
when she sidles up next to you
in the empty stool
She looks at you
She's beautiful
As beautiful as every time
you've seen her
Her eyes brim with wet sadness
She pulls you close
She doesn't ask your name
because she knows your name
because you've seen each other here
before on late nights after many drinks
She tells you that there are choices
she has to make
She pulls you close
all of a sudden
Her lips touch yours
You are kissing
You feel her sadness
That need
as simple as it is
to be comforted
in time of conflict
and confusion
You let her kiss you
a second time
You look into her beautiful
brown eyes brimming
with the burden of choice
You tell her you have to leave
She kisses you again
You let it happen
The night is over for you
Yet her night will grow
and change and shift
as dawn beckons
and words will
be exchanged
and choices
will be
made

Morning 12/21/17

"To decipher does not always mean to understand." 
- Luigi Serafini
https://birdinflight.com/media/luigi-serafini-on-how-and-why-he-created-an-encyclopedia-of-an-imaginary-world.html


We are still alive in one another.

Salvation by any other name.

Read a language you do not know
and cannot hope to understand.

Illustrations from a strange universe.

The impossible is never impossible.

Imagination is the proof of all possibility.

What life did we know before our birth?
What life will we know after it ends?

Keep breathing
Keep living
Breathe in
Breathe out
Inhabit the moment

morning 12/20/17

There is peace within
You are striving towards it
It is within your grasp
Reach out
Take it
Hold it
Never let it go


There is sound
There is resonance
within me
It's vibrations spread
through flesh and mind
I become the sound
I am the sound

"Our journey's end is our journey home,
Our journey home is our journey's end."

that which feeds

Your ego is hungry
Feed it
It's belly growls
It is becoming impatient
It doesn't care where you are
It wants
It craves
It needs attention
It needs affection

                             /

                                You're beautiful
                                You're amazing
                                You're creative
                                You're one of a kind
                                Everyone wants to know you
                                Everyone wants to be around you
                                Have you always been so amazing

Will love become the dawn?

We must learn to do what is right by doing what is wrong.

To learn in this way is not foolish so long as the lesson is learned.

words

the words

the words

the words

the words

are you letting them come

are you letting them go

the words

the words

the words

you worry so much about them

are you listening to yourself

the words 

the words

the words

they are within you

are you bothering to listen

the words 

the words

the words

are always here

are always within reach

the words

the words 

the words 

become the mantra on your lips

become the reason

Ocean

I am the ocean 

I am the water 

I am the reefs

I am the whales

I am the sunken wrecks

I am the placid waters

I am the schools of fish

I am the kelp washing ashore

I am the deepest reaches of the dark

I am the sharks swimming near shore

I am the crabs and the lobsters

I am the salt in my waters

I am the seven seas

I am peaceful 

I am the tempest

I am foaming tides

I am friend

I am enemy

I am unconquerable

I am the ocean

Questions

How can one measure the growth of the soul?
Why must we let our insecurities be part of us?
How can we define the yearning in our hearts?
If I ask you a question can you answer honestly?
Is lost love carried with us endlessly in our lives?
Can happiness be more than fleeting moments?
Why do we desire that which is only temporary?
Can we break the wheel of our harmful vices?
Will our hearts grow beyond what we can see?

beach dream

I walked down the hill to the beach
The sand was warm to my feet
As I came closer I did not break stride
Embraced by the warmth of summer
I began to swim past the pier
further and further out
to the eastern edge of the horizon
How beautiful it felt at the edge of the world
boundless and free
Finally I woke up

Vessel

I am the vessel for the infinite divine
I exist in this moment
I feel the needs of the body
I feel the lusts
I feel the anxieties
I feel the insecurities
I feel the bodily pleasures
I feel the loneliness of a cold bed
I feel my finite humanity
I am all too human
I feel more within
I am more than this
I know this
I see myself in you
I see all of us in your eyes

The Expected

A sunrise is never sudden
nor unexpected.
Early morning Sunday
driving through abandoned
freeways and streets
with unusual ease.
Night began to fade
into darkest blue.
Darkest blue began to
lighten even further
until at last the sky was a
saturated soft blue
blanketing everything.
For a few moments
there was peace
everywhere in this place
I have always called
my home.

Morning 12/16/17

They have taken root
and their fingers are extending unseen
through the ground around them
Their grasp firms and tightens
as they grow taller and stronger
beneathe the nourishing sun
and water pouring at their trunk

Untethered
Free
Is that it?
Is that what we
have always wanted?

Caught between Salvation and Habit.

Give me a chance and I'll take away your loneliness

Your name becomes the ghost in my memory
A presence turned to absence
A face once loved obscured by rain falling onto glass

Morning 12/15/17

And time moves on
And we are still here gazing at the sky
And time moves on

Dreams and dreaming
Innocence forgot and remembered
Flowers in the garden
Bees leaving the hive
Walking up the steps to the house
What is memory saying
Listening for a voice
Has it been yours all along

Wind and Sand

Cast the words from your mouth
I've got nothing to say
I've heard what you meant
Cast a wall of steel and concrete
Division and separation
This is what you want
All promises are wind and sand
Don't say anything more
I've heard it
I've heard it
I've heard it before
And the past hasn't changed
And neither have you

Prophet

And God spoke
And She said



And I waited to hear
but could not hear
Her lips moved
but I was deafened
by divine voice

I wait now
for revelation
for enlightenment

I wait for another chance
to hear the words

pendulum

I am waiting for the right time
I always believe it to be near
then find something to dissuade me
Back and forth
Back and forth
A pendulum swinging in my mind
So I watch and wait
for the right time
Is this pure folly
Some might say
to wait for the right time
is to wait forever
Where will action
take me
Far from here
or so I think
or so I think

morning 12/13/17

Time and memory
Specificity
Image drawn in wet concrete
Names turned stone
Outline of a heart
Feet walking upon this
Sun and rain
Night and Day
We are reaching
for the sun

Morning 12/12/17 / 35th Anniversary

This moment is the gift.

Born into this life
Present in this moment
Incarnate

To be aware is to be aware
of the vast interconnectedness
of all of us

Is each day a past life?

I am the rain
I am the river
I am the lake
I am the ocean

Along the wave
Riding from sea to shore
I breathe
I exist
I am
To be
I am
To be

To walk the path is to live the path.

Unseen Landscape

Cheryl was lonely

She sat by herself at the diner

Her usual french toast breakfast

was as good as any other day

She finished and walked out 

to the parking lot to her white

Chrysler missing one hubcap

from the front drivers side

She drove home to her 

apartment and set down 

her bag She took off her shoes

and sat down on the comfy

overstuffed couch

She liked the way her body

would comfortably ease

into the cushions

She turned on the TV

and let it speak

It didn't matter what 

was on it all came

and went through her mind

Oftentimes she would 

begin to remember 

memories and dreams 

from younger days

and all the possibility

that was once ahead

Now so much of it 

could only be seen with

a backwards glance 

She closed her eyes

and began to breathe steadily

The sounds from the TV faded

into nothingness

She could see everything now

all at once 

Vastness was no before her

How lovely it was 

Try Again

What must be understood is that
control is always within the self.
To exercise willpower requires
a consistent inner strength that
will be tested over and over.
It is always possible to try again.
So try. Again. And if you fail
try again. Do not let yourself
be discouraged. Try and trust
in yourself.

This Moment Is Now

The present is the present Do not forget this
This now is the moment you have always
waited for What happens now is up to you
Create the life you want but be patient and
put in the work to make it so Do not let your
self be blinded by habit and by your own
bad habits To change them is to find the new
way forward Forward is always right in front
of us We must be bold Boldness can often be
the smallest of actions and changes that can
frighten us into inaction If all else fails take a
moment to breathe In Out In Out Close your
eyes Steady your heart and mind Let yourself
become the now These moments are eternal
This present is always now See through the
trappings we have accepted blindly and move
past them Shed the unnecessary Let light into
the dark places of the soul This is not easy
This is uncomfortable Feel the warmth of the
sun Feel the wind on your skin and through
your hair Let life touch your body Let it send
a shiver up your back and onto the back of
your head Open your eyes and breathe in the
air It is here It is now The future is always
coming The past is unchanging This day
is what matters What matters is this day and
what we do with it and ourselves

The Name the Wind Calls Itself

I incarnate
This place
This time
Through these eyes
With these hands
In this body
I speak to you
Hear this
In my voice
Every syllable
Pronounced clearly
In your mind
This is now
Now is forever
The moment
Has passed
The moment
Is forever
The moment
Is now

Morning 12/9/17

Creating Light

a dream of better days
hope that this shall pass
that we will till the soil
and reap what has been
sown over a lifetime

What can heal us?
What can heal the wounds we bear
invisibly within us?

The first sound of this world
The first sound of existence
Calling forth from them to now
On our lips and from our throats
It emerges whole
Calling to the universe

I wake and I dream

It is early yet
From my bed I rise
Look through my window
The sky has begun to lighten
and turn shades of blue
How many of these
mornings do I have
How many of these
have I seen
The gift is
now
Do you realize
Do you understand

moment

A dog barking outside
Midday warmth
Sitting with nothing in mind
nowhere to be other than
here
now
Is it enough
It is
It always will

Caught Thinking

You get caught thinking about
your weight
money
how much of it you have
how much of it you need
You get caught thinking about
time
and how it is passing
and how it worries you
and how helpless you are
to impede it
You don't want to think about it all
so you drink
so you keep busy
trying to stave off the inevitable
so you keep working
and try to not look up
You get caught up
wanting to be happy and
worrying about it
yet never feeling closer
to the feeling you've been longing for
You get caught up thinking about love
and how much you have to give and
how much more you wish you had
yet that isn't the whole story and
even you know that but that
doesn't keep you from
worrying so you
worry anyway
and isn't
that
fruitless?
In the middle of the night
you wake up in worry
and for once
you learn
to stop
and
go back
to sleep

That Which Longs to Be Born

Within the self
How deeply have you searched
Vast continents and lakes
lay unexplored and
waiting to be found
Close your eyes
Begin

Morning 12/5/17

So many lives within this one
Eyes are mirrors
we gaze through and into

Does the flower know
how it blooms?

Creatures of a fragile world
We live here together

The Symmetry of Water

We are struggling to gain collective peace
both within and without

I want peace and love for you for everyone
This life is too short to want more than this

Rivers of thought in endless waters
Shimmering in their motion
This journey through us

Life is the gift
Now is the present

Return to the place of peace within.

Morning 12/4/17

The lives we want are still out there.

Caught between choices of our making
We wonder before we can decide
of where we will go

Everything we leave unspoken

Digging through the years of our lives
Seeking a place of peace within

There is time for us still
in our cottage by the beach
at a peaceful place in our lives

To become so fully oneself
as to become utterly whole

The words find themselves and
come together
When they do you know
what they mean
what they have always
wanted to say

Looking through old pictures of us
Remembering
Remember
Remember

Everything will pass away
Until then
Light

Morning 12/3/17

Song of morning
Life here
Within you
Within me
Within us

This gravity is holding me down to the ground
I want to join you again in the heavens above

Keep searching for peace and stillness
The path is everlasting

The ocean kisses your feet on the shore
I hold your hand as we feel coolness surrounding warmth

The Invisible World 

Beautiful Sky

Clear blue glass overhead.

If a crack appeared in the sky 

Would you worry?

Would you worry 

if you saw the crack

break further and spider out?

What would you do

when you saw a piece

loose free and crack 

upon the ground?

Two Halves

The days and nights continue to fall away from us
the way leaves fall away from branches in autumn
Winter will come and in the season of hibernation
we will dream hidden from the world of all that is
and live within the possibilities of what could be

Who are you who found me in my dream last night
You are a memory of a woman whose name I have
long forgotten yet the image of her lingered long
enough to reappear Where we were I could not say
but that is insignificant We met and we kissed and
it felt sweet and warm and kind as all loving kisses
should I can see your face and body yet i know the
dream will remain only such You linger in memory

I woke up with the melody in mind
and the words were already singing through me
Beautiful words still hold me warm
These cold nights thinking of other days

Morning 11/29/17

Patterns speak in silent voices
and urge us to listen

caught in this body
living through it
learning strength
learning weakness
mind and tension
for relief
for release
this body
held inside
looking out
the windows
moving through
this world

Hidden Images of the Real World

Comfort in Ritual

search for fire
search for comfort
the real world
the imagined world
this world
what other world

in memory the past is always present

our warm bed
an evening
a morning
quiet
gentleness

Not as young as we once were
Not as old as we'll one day be
Caught here between lives
Wistful thoughts of long gone days
Memory the reminder
Of all things we'd thought forgotten
Touch of our hands on each other
Kisses in afternoon light
Lying in the grass
And the light shines on
Whether we are here or gone

Your happiness is out there
and you are living it
For that I am glad

Characters and Settings

The story starts and it does not end
It does not end when you or I do
It continues long past us
In fact the story had begun
long before us
In this brief window of years
we bloom under the sun
and bask in the warmth of life
We ask ourselves if there is more
beyond this life
There are many different ideas
about this but they must
be taken on faith
This works for many
but not everyone
I have a hunch of what I believe
but it probably wouldn't work
for everyone
I am living this story as I write it
and hoping I get it right
on the first try
There are no second drafts
Every day we carry on
even on days we have believed
to be impossible
Every breath is an unspoken prayer
Every day is a promise made and kept
This story
Our story
This life
Our lives

Conflict

I'm tired of wearing this uniform
and fighting these wars with myself
What is there to be won
with this constant conflict
There isn't anything worth it
Yet I return again and again
as though it matters
as though this is something
that can save me
that can heal me
It isn't and it won't
I'm smart enough to realize it
It isn't easy living in this body
Dealing with a mind ready to
surrender to any form of relief
no matter how it may turn out
This life is a gauntlet of
experiences to be fought through
There is no harder fight
than the one within

Morning 11/26/17

How do we balance the desire for inner peace
and bodily desire? That tension is the tension
of being human. It is the base question we must
all address within ourselves. There is no one
answer. All answers are possible.

Everyone is living and suffering
Don't think you're alone
We're all in there with you
This place this home
Is our home too
It's broken us all it's not just you

We fall in love with the image of desire.

Mother, I Am Awake Within You

What is the way and how shall we know it?

Are we doing anything except wandering?

How large are the circles of our journey?

Can you see my face through the glass?

Slowly everything unravels and what

Is unraveled is then revealed.

I do not wish to hide yet

Even part of ourselves

Remains hidden from

Conscious memory.

I have wandered endlessly in circles of

Mine own making. The path is worn well

Into the dirt. What discovery is to be made

From this place of known steps? How deeply

Must I look into the beatings of my heart? The

Home of my life and the life of my body all reside

Within this place. I am pleased and disappointed in how

All of this has come to be. How am I to deal with the ache

I feel at what has not been achieved? How much farther must

I push? What is there to push still at this point? What dawn have

We been waiting for?

Morning 11/25/17

What can we say
Que puedemos decir
About all this
De todo esto

If this is waking
What is dreaming
Is this dreaming
everything it could be

The center is always found within.

Waves in constant motion as they touch shore

Locket

Worn around the neck of memory
Kept safe in an enclosed space
Times and actions known only to us
Memories shared and a hidden life lived
In fits and starts over stolen time
The gap widens with each season
As leaves appear and wither and fall
What lives do we lead now?
Could it have been better
In another way?
Could it have been possible
To live the impossible?
A cottage on the beach
A quiet place
Is still there somewhere
Beyond any place we can see

The Past and Where the Idea Breaks

Photo booth picture strip

hidden in the back 

of an old notebook

A typewritten note

and a hand drawn ghost

keep it company

Four photos of us

Here the text breaks
The rest of the words
were lost
               and the idea
could not be saved
So now I muse
on us and then
Everything has changed
and we have stayed
the same
               Such a lie
Everything has changed
and so have we
                          Only
those moments remain
frozen in their perfection

Morning 11/21/17

Listening to morning
to life
Stillness
Calmness
Breath
Where are we now

Peace and where to find it

Simple needs to be fulfilled

Cosmic Peace

Create the better self through slow and gradual action.

returning to shore

Bury me in the water
off the coast of my favorite beach
Spread my ashes
Let me float
Carried on the the swells
I'll swim back to shore
I'll find the new life
I was always hoping for

te recuerdo

tus ojos

tus manos

tus palabras

como te extrano

te recuerdo 

no te olvido

querida

From These Windows I Watch

What will I hear if I listen 
to the silence within myself

Early morning in stillness
No voices Only breathing

Temporary home Peering 
through the windows

Watching each other come 
and go through these days

No Message

Call when there's no one home

Call when I'm not here

Call and leave a message

I'm not here

I'm never coming back

Won't bother with the truth again

Calling you and you're not there

Not leaving a message

I'm just leaving 

Leaving town today

Leaving you 

Leaving 

Letting the leaves

come between us

Waiting

He was leaning against the wall out in
front of the building waiting for every
one else to arrive. That's what happens
when you make it a point of getting
twenty minutes early to every meeting.
The cigarette was almost down to the
filter. He took a final drag and felt the
fire press close to his skin. The butt
flew into the street like so many bodies
forgotten at the morgue. Out of the
corner of his eye he could see a woman
approaching from his right side. She
was carrying what appeared to be small
pieces of luggage in each hand. Each
of her steps felt hurried. She got close
to him and stopped. She set the cases
down and and wiped the sweat from
her brow with her left hand. "Excuse
me" she said, "Do you know where
1421 is?" "This is 1460 where we're
at right now. Maybe if you walk down
the block that way you'll hit it. It can't
be too far from here."he said. "I'm
running late to do make-up for a
video shoot and can't seem to find
the place." "Yeah, I haven't seen any
one else that looks like they're part of
some shoot. It's been pretty quiet
here since I've been waiting." he said.
"Would you happen to have a
cigarette?" she asked. He reached into
his coat pocket and pulled out the
pack. She looked inside and asked
"Are you sure? It's your last one?"
"Of course it is. Go ahead, take it."
She took his last cigarette and pulled
out a neon green lighter from her
right pants pocket. It quickly caught
the spark as she took a long drag.
"I know I'm already late but at this
point I sorta don't care. I got a flat
tire on my way over and now I can't
find the damn place. But thanks for
the smoke." she said. She seemed
to be around his age, young enough
but older than some. "Of course."
he said. "My name is Rand. I'm just
waiting for some friends. They'll be
here in a few minutes unless they're
running late." She was finishing the
cigarette and flicked it out into the
street. "My name is Cathy but you
can call me Cat." She reached into
her pocket and pulled out a card.
"Look me up sometime. If you ever
need a make-up artist or know
someone who does just let me
know. I swear I'll be more punctual
than this gig." "Thanks. I'll look
you up sometime." he said. " I should
get going. Don't want to be later
than I already am." she said. "Well,
good luck finding the place, Cat."
he said. "Thanks. See you around."
She grabbed her two cases and kept
walking down the street. Around
the corner he could swear that Brian's
car had just turned onto the street.
Now it was time to get down to
business.

If this is waking
what is dreaming?

Morning 11/17/17

The things we say and do
in private
in sole company
how much would surprise everyone
how much of it wouldn't

Being alive is such a strange and natural thing.

What will be done with this day?
What will change.
What will remain.

The better angels of ourselves are calling us 

to a place where we can heal and rebuild.

What are we striving to be closer to?

What well are we drawing water from?

What nourishment do we seek?

Kindness.

Only kindness.

Is it so difficult 

to live in accordance

with a simple idea?

Kindness.

Spread only this

to all our sisters 

and brothers.

To treat all

in this way.

Can we?

Will we?

What will

be lost if

we do not?

Waking There

Am I really dreaming if
I find myself thinking of waking
in my grandparents house
Waking to quiet sounds
Rising from my hammock
Letting my feet touch tiled floors
In the near distance I hear
the town hall bell ring
I walk outside and let
the morning wash over me
I find my aunts milling about
Opening the store as school
children make their way to class
I find a place to sit and I
pull out one of my books and
begin to read and start my day

Kacie and Death

She's hanging out with Death 

and they get on just fine

Sitting on her stoop drinking 

forties and smoking cigarettes

Evening wind blowing between

them 

He's got to get back to work

he says 

             I don't mind just do your

job and don't be long 

                                  she says 

He takes up to leave and looks 

at her and wishes he didn't have

to go He takes a long pull off

the forty bottle 

                        She gives him

a hug and he dissipates into 

evening

             The embers of her

cigarette burning still

flow

Given enough time
flowing water
will carve a path
through any rock

crossings

Leaves tremble and shake
in early morning wind
Nearby a bird chirps
sitting on a branch
People waking
one by one
from their
beds

This
is morning
yet how much
more this is as well
Time is a distance we
are crossing together as
best we can while we can
in this life of passing lights

An Age of Miracles and Worry.

Blue were the color of her lips
Red was the color of my heart

The Drive

The beaming Pacific Ocean flanked the driver's side of
his car. He had been driving for a few hours now. He
was heading north but it wasn't to anywhere in particular.
He hadn't told anyone where he was going either. He
just left. There had been a restlessness in him in recent
days that he could not explain away. A fidgety unease
that had attached itself to his life. His work had ceased
being fulfilling some time ago. His friendships were
all good and pleasant. He didn't worry much about
money unlike many people he knew. He was in a
fortunate position but an untenable one. This unease
had crept into everything. The more he thought about
it the less of an answer he had. Do I abandon everything?
Do I keep everything? What must be changed? What
could still be gained? The frustration was there staring
at him with unbroken eyes. Even now on such a day
these thoughts held on. He eventually pulled off the
highway to gas up. It was one of those small gas stations
that existed in the seemingly endless stretches of
emptiness that dotted the landscape. After he was done,
instead of getting back onto the freeway he headed
west down a road, hoping to hit the beach. The occasional
house dotted the land in between vast fields. He could
smell the scent of salted air grow stronger the further
he went. At last the road opened up and faced the vast
ocean. He slowed and pulled over on the shoulder.
He got out of the car and began to walk towards the
sand. The only other person he could see was a woman
walking a dog. It had been a very long time he had
this much space to himself at a beach. The beaches
back home were usually filled with people most of the
year. Plus there would be bars, restaurants, and all
the other trappings of consumerist culture nearby.
Not here. Here was still as pure as it could be. He took
off his shoes and socks and let his feet touch the warm
sand. It felt as though his body had just lit up. He got
closer and closer to the water until at last he stood on
wet sand. The tide came in gently and washed over
his feet sending a chill through his nerves and giving
him gooseflesh. It didn't take long for his feet to get
used to the water. Once it did he could feel it's warmth.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus his breathing.
He began to feel more whole. His body began to relax.
Soon enough time faded. The waves were the only
thing left in the world that mattered. Soon enough
he himself disappeared into what he sought.  

Earthbound

We awake from our daily death with morning
greeting us once again. What is there to fear?
Sleep is a comfort for us earth bound creatures.

To dream and be awake. Bittersweet emotion.
A flood of memory. An imagined life. Paths
and possibility. Morning in bed with you.
Warmth that is missed. Why the feeling of
being cheated? Our lives bound to the wheel
of time and money. Years slipping by when
all we want is happiness and love. To love
and be loved. To be free to be wholly one
self. Time passes. Days pass. Nights pass.
What of this life? How much remains. Will
I ever see you again? Will I ever hold you
in my arms again? Will we ever share a
peaceful silence in each others company
once more? Paths yet to be taken remain
before us.What are we to do with ourselves?

Give All The Love That Is Yours To Give (Freewrite)

Nothing comes and yet everything does if you
allow it to be Steady hands to guide you along
the path but whose hands and what path There
are questions without answers and answers no
on ever suspected Here you are in the present
yet how much of a gift is this moment Ask this
of yourself Days are time and this life is yours
to do with as you like Sight and Consciousness
Are we pushing ourselves towards something
unseen that defies easy categorization Suppose
this to be so Color gray shading everything by
its mere presence Memories emerge from the
years gone by and to where do they return at
the end of our lives Be happy for those you
have cause to be happy for Take all the joy
that you can from this life Every drop taken
to feed a thirst that cannot be fully slaked

only present

river waters rushing past
origin and destination lie out of view
only now 

The Fear

Too much
Not enough
Not good enough
Too little money
Too much insecurity
Too young
Too old
Foolish hope
Hardened experience
Lingering thoughts
Seeds buried
Rotten fruits
from gnarled limbs
Cursing existence
Contributing what
No love
Alone and lonely
Too much love to give
to no one at all
Wash away
these fears
It all goes away

I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun
I have been waiting for the sun

Morning 11/10/17

Rested and awake yet

what do you think of?

What concerns you in

the earliest hours of day?

We can't escape the past recurring in our minds

from time to time. Failure and success, it haunts

us all the same. Old relationships and friendships,

intimate moments, public embarrassments, the 

specter of our own past lives. Speaking for my-

self, I'll get lost in thought as my mind wanders

through these times. At times I am overjoyed and

other times I am left in grief at what has come to

pass. The even hand of this life gives us all our

share of grief and joy. 

The silence between the notes is where the heart

of all music is. 

The inner journey will always find a way to express

itself outwardly. 

To awaken and feel gratitude

To feel the presence of a thousand small miracles

that make possible every moment

In a restless world 

find peace and stillness within

 

Power of Light / Power of Life

Power of Life / Power of Light 

morning 11/9/17

How fearful must our ancestors have been
each time the sun departed
as the world fell into darkness

Is waking a miracle we often forget
Spoiled because of our comfort
As we have become masters of this world

Warmth and light return in tandem
Sunlight
Sunlight
Life itself

_________

Breath is repetition
Life is heartbeat
Heartbeat is rhythm
Rhythm is repetition
Inhale Exhale
Unconscious repetition

sand

Storing sand in a glass
Adding grains in
bit by bit from
the beach

Slowly
filling it up
Until one day
it can hold no more

Names of Beauty

All the words that speak for beauty
are your names
In dreams you live
In lives you deem fit
you appear
You graced me once
Changed forever
Memory is where I find you
I see your face
I hear your voice
In memory still living
I see your face
I hear your voice
In memory

Lines and Freewrite 11/7/17

Fantasy or Leisure?
Love or Pleasure?

A Life More Ordinary.

Light flowing unobstructed from the sun
And even when there are obstacles in place
it seeps through every crack it can find.
How many mornings of your life have you
woken and been greeted by the light flowing
down upon you More often than not I would
suppose I do not wish to be hidden from the
sun I want to bask in its warmth and find the
places I have always wanted to see They are
out there waiting for me Wake and rise and
see Wake an rise and see This life is now
and it will always be We are always subject
to change without notice Impermanence is
all we can ever rely on Change is change is
change is change Are you awake now Are
you still in bed at home Is there a dog curled
up at your feet I once touched your skin and
hair and fed from the warm smile you would
give Miles apart Separated by time Willful
and needed or will and unnecessary Making
the best of this is all we could do Does the
body have dreams apart from the mind Is
there memory dormant in its bones ligaments
and muscles that the mind has never known
Another morning Another time to consider
everything Nothing could be more than this
Everything is everything now Deeper into
Fall Winter is approaching with each passing
day Chilly wind washes through the branches
of the trees And in the heart of Winter we
will be conserving heat and counting the days
and nights waiting for the first blooms
waiting for life to renew its promise waiting
for Spring waiting to open windows and
let walk through the front door and see
how the world has changed and what beauty
must still remain

morning 11/6/17

What will this day demand?
What is it to demand anything of us?

__________

Dreaming dreaming
Draeming draeming
Awake awake
Eyes open
Gazing upon
such a visage
of beauty
Closing my eyes
Open again
Where has it all gone

On Happiness

Does my happiness exist in the company of others?
Does my happiness exist in my solitude?
It does and it doesn't.
It exists and it comes and goes as it pleases.
There are times of endless tedium
when it skirts along the edges of my life.
My happiness exists and for that I am glad.
Does your happiness keep you company
on nights uncertainty?
Does your happiness show itself to you
in little bits at random times?
Human, oh so human.
If truth be told
I worry about my happiness
from time to time.
Yet for all my worry
I have never believed that my happiness
would leave and never return to me.
It is my companion through
the undulating waves of this life.
It has it's own moods
but I don't begrudge it that.
I do not expect my happiness
to solve the problems of my life.
I work on it the problems as much
as I can. I try to let my happiness grow
in small ways that enrich my soul.
I wish my life and yours
to be filled with as much happiness
as we can reasonably embrace.

morning 11/4/17

Rise from darkness
Clouds of uncertain gray
Wash it all away
Calling to you
Life reaching out
Ready your voice
Take steps
Commence walking
Everything under the sky
Living here with you

Second Hand Ghosts

Morning 11/3/17

How much of this life is dreaming
How much of this life is waking
Which is truly which?

Invisible thread
piercing my heart
Still
the beat continues
Behold beauty
Yet unable to do more
Merely in awe
of such a being

Imperceptible Sunrise

I want to tell you how I feel
I want to say how much
I admire your strength
Being a mother twice over
Your love to your children
Your love to your loved ones
I see your beaming smile
and can only long to be the cause
of such an expression in you
I want to ask you to join me
sometime to talk to share space
Yet I am fearful if I am honest
I wonder what it would be like
to hold your hand to kiss you
to hold each other in silence

Morning 11/2/17

We were born wolves
and then became bears.

Tomorrow will be today.

Seasons turning from one to another
Day to night to day
to night again

Faith calling out your name
Again and again
Singing into ecstasy
Rhythm seeping into marrow
The universe found

Dia de los Muertos

Nunca nos olvidamos
Cada dia
Cada noche
Estan aca con
nosotros
Nos recordamos
de las vidas
de nuestros queridos
Como es possible
olvidarnos de ustedes
No se puede
Recordamos
Recordamos
Hoy y siempre

On Mornings

A season of impending Winter
Brooding mornings
Waiting for sunlight
How long must we wait
beneathe the ashen sky

Your naked body covered
by thin sheets
I hear you breathe quietly
in perfect stillness of morning
I cannot sleep again
So I sit and listen
rather than wake you

An empty nest in the branches
of the tree No fluttering wings
back and forth to this former home
Mother and chicks since departed

Another day
Another night
How easy it is
How difficult it is
to face it all once again

Eternal Shores

The salty beach air was a familiar comfort.
Sitting on the sand was just as peaceful as
it had ever been. It was late afternoon yet
he sun had scarcely shown it's face. Grey
shrouded this day.

I have to sit still and close my eyes to listen.
I listen as intently as I can. I try to listen with
the whole of my body. I try to let vibrations
fill me and resonate. I try to see past vision.
Sound fills and consumes. Is this the first
vibration? The sound of creation? The first
sound and the last sound of this existence?
I open my mouth and let my throat create
a response. Primitive sound, first sound.
It merges with what has filled me. Now
we resonate in key. I slow my breathing
to match the unseen waves. It is here and
it is I as well. Created from this and to this
we will return. Time is the illusion. This
is forever. A present without end. Only
here. Only now. Only forever and ever.

first calling

Rising with the light
I let go of passing dreams
and wipe the sleep
from my eyes
What do I seek
on this day
What will be
revealed
What will be
hidden still
Faint light
grows stronger
Call of the first
bird of morning
drifts through
looking for
one willing
to listen

Current Forms

Blooming flower at the edge of Winter
Your face basks in the chill of dawn
We gaze upon each other 
Many lives
Many forms ago
Yet we are unchanged
in our flowered essence 

even summer flees

warm mornings give way to grey

the turning of seasons

We wish to protect the innocent
as long as we can because this life
will do everything it can to take it away.
_____________

Cream Scene Boogie Machine

rise

to live
to rise
to breathe
to witness
to accept
to change
to be
to be
closer to
whole

morning 10/24/17

Fill the page with something

It doesn't have to be anything important

Let the words come out as easily or as 

awkwardly as they like it makes no difference

Let thoughts be the steady stream feeding

into the roaring river 

Every song you sing is a prayer

Morning 10/23/17

Sitting here and waiting
for nothing and no one
What more is there
There is more
Waiting just beyond
Where our vision lies

I speak of hauntings
Yet it is only memory
of which I speak
To accept the past
and let it go
How hard is this
lesson to learn?
We carry this truth
with us until we are
ready to accept it

Endlessly walking through
doors and hallways
Spectator and participant
to mine own life

History written by both
winner and loser
yet is it not possible
we both lost?

I am still searching for
completion
This task is endless
Perhaps actualization
has occurred
Perhaps it is all past

We move and live
We gain and lose
We continue until
we no longer can

Why escape from myself
when I will always be there?
To become more myself
To become more present
To become more whole

What could make us happy
could undo the lives we've made
so we keep these lives
and let the heart keep it's secrets
alive within us

The Old Shack

He had just woken up from an overly long nap
and saw that it was almost 11p.m. That was
pretty much an entire Saturday evening gone.
Normally, he would just go to the bar down the
street for a few rounds to pass the time and talk
to the regulars but he was more broke than usual
this night. He put on shoes and a hoodie and got
in his car. He drove through the neighborhood
and started hitting the major streets. He inched
closer and closer to the beach. Next thing he
knew he was driving along the black coast.
The sound of unseen waves steady as a heart
beat on the sand. He loved this stretch of beach
late at night. Hardly anyone around to disturb
him. Just the steady pace of the car moving home
across the distances. Finally, the shore disappeared
from view as the road began to slope downward
towards a stoplight. He came to a stop and sat there
waiting for the light to turn. He passed a small beach
bar that looked modestly busy. It was called 'The
Beach Shack'. He passed it and continued on through
the neighborhood. He slowed down and parked his car
in front of an old bungalow. He looked at it for a moment
and began to think of all the times he had spent there
with Annie. All the times he had woken up next to her.
The hours spent in the living room and bedroom. The smells
of dinner wafting through the house. The soft padding of
their cat Candy back when she was still alive.
That was all gone. She was gone. Only he remained.
He decided he would drop by the shack tonight after all.

Eventually. everything is about death.

Surely, we must let the rains fall
as we must let the sun shine.

Stay focused on the small tasks
in order to slowly achieve the large ones.

Routine

I felt her get out of bed and the sudden absence
of her body next to mine. I saw her at the foot
of the bed, skin bare in the slight chill of morning.
She gathered her towel and things to take a shower.
I let my mind wander as the sound of falling water
came steady from the bathroom. I gazed at the ceiling
as though I could divine the future from it. How much
of this life has been a dream? How much of it have
I actually lived to its potential? How much time yet
remained? I heard the falling water stop and the glass
door slide open. I could imagine the contours of her
being dried off. I thought of all the small touches we
had given other, touches of hands, fingers gently
grazing the nape of the neck, hands stroking the full
length of our backs. This comfortable intimacy.
She walked back into the room wearing her favorite
robe with her hair pulled up into a towel. She smiled
at me in the way that has always left me hopelessly
in love with her. "Are you going to take a shower?"
she asked. "I'll take one in a minute. Not in a big
rush right now." I said. "I'm going to have some
breakfast. Do you want me to fix you anything?"
she asked. "I'll probably just have some milk and
cereal." I said. She walked over and leaned down
to kiss me on the lips. That natural sweetness of
heart and body. How many years had I lived
without it in my life? She stepped out of our room
towards the kitchen. The residual warmth of her
shower was calling. I closed my eyes and found
myself so near and so far away.

Abstract and Concrete

How can I define my goals and ambitions?
How can I expand my heart and mind?
How can I foster my connection to the universe?
How can I become more compassionate?
How can I become a more creative and intuitive person?

These are some of the things I wonder
as I try to move closer to some of my goals.
Some have proven concrete ways to be achieved.
Others are more abstract in their realization
but nonetheless are part of this physical world.

Have you awaken
I think of you even now
My former lover

a path to better

I'm trying to take better care of myself these days
and I hope that you are too.
I've been sleeping much better than I have
in many months
Most of that is probably due to my complete
lack of drinking
I'm ok with that change
I'm fine saying no to a drink
I just feel better about myself
I've even begun to lost some weight
I've been playing more music and
I've been writing more
I wake up feeling rested
instead of half dead
Why had I been doing to myself
what I had been doing to myself
for so long?
No good answer
but that isn't where I am now
For that I can be glad

Morning 10/17/17

Were things always easier in the past or is that
just a collective delusion created by our nostalgia?
The passing interval between the years of our
lives makes it easier to believe the past as a golden
time we must get back to. More often than not
this is a falsehood we grow to believe.

__________________________________

Voices in unison
Fervency of heart
Turn the ecstatic
into actuality

__________________________________

As though as fragile peace has taken hold
within me, now I must do my best to maintain
that balance.

__________________________________

Waking up sober and clear-headed, no worries
from a night free of my favorite vice.

Crucible in a Death Hand

Will you accept the ugliness of this life?

The Way to Where?

If the answer is there
What will you take it to mean
Will you take it at all
Unspool my ego from my soul
What good has it done me
Unbind my heart
Let it beat freely
These days of learning
Hard lessons must be lived
Hard lessons yet to come

Morning 10/16/17

Must we be willing to accept horror as though
nothing can be done about it?
__________________________________

Go to bed early and you will wake up early.
If you wake up early you might see the sky
just before the full measure of dawn. You
will hear the stillness of morning, the birds
waking and speaking, and the quiet of a
silent home. The day arrives unspoken and
lets itself in.
__________________________________

There is a dream of peace
There is a dream of freedom
Yet can these dreams become flesh?
How much unkindness we foster
against one another
And for what reason?
And for what possible good?
Creatures of such potential
yet how do we spend on our time here?
I rest and rise and repeat this
over and over again hoping
that we get closer to an ideal
worth striving towards
worth becoming living reality
__________________________________

Let your heart break a piece at a time
Remember those who must bear
the experiences and live with
the memory of trespasses against them

___________________________________

What good are your senses if
you do not respond to them?
___________________________________

Echoes of Wind

cool morning
dry wind passing through
season of burning
air heavy with ash
fire has consumed

Past & Memory

We create the history we wish to believe.

A wise man was once reputed to have said that.
I don't know if I should believe it because many
fools have attributed such statements to unnamed
wise men in order to give credence to their own
words. I ask myself if it is true, however. How
many of the events of this world do we take on
the word of others? Most, I would imagine. It is
foolish to think we could verify all things in this
world but some we can at least take on the account
of those who were there. On a smaller level we
do this in our lives. How much of our lives do we
truly remember? Think of that for a moment.
Multiply that by countless humans living and dead
and you can begin to see the problem. I wonder
how much of my own life I cannot recall. My own
birth, for one. But who would expect that or want
to in any case? As we live and move forward in
this life we create gilded coverings for our memories.
The past becomes an amalgam of truth and fiction.
We are the authors and audience of this. As time
passes these thoughts become codified in our minds
as gospel. Is it possible to live without this occurring?
I imagine that it might be possible but I cannot say
definitively that it can. We sit and think of these
things and cannot give ourselves an answer.
If there were an answer would it be one that we
could trust? Do you trust yourself to tell your
own story as honestly and truthfully as possible?

How long must this eternity be?

Wolves & Daggers 

Young Days, Old Memories

Awake
Arise
Air of life
Breath of dawn
Coolness on skin
Dawn of the new
Dawn of the same
Everyone must rise
For this and every day

And

And once there was nothing
And then there was
And then there was everything
And then there were beasts
And then there was man
And then man was spread
throughout the world
And then man forgot
And then man kept trying
to remember
And then man remembered
And then some men
wondered if it was too late

Oh, Honey

I know the struggle
for peace of mind
Yet it doesn't get easier
How do we live
with ourselves
I ask myself
all the time
We do
for the most part
Peace and joy
and happiness
still live
still exist
even when we
have to dig deeper
to find them in
this life
How much pain
will you suffer
How many tears
will you shed
I cannot say
It hasn't been enough
There will be more
Always more
This life will never lack
for these
I will be there
suffering with you
We all must suffer
We must take our pain
and create a way
towards the light
This is the task
we must see through
but we are never alone

How many years gone?
How many remain?

Calling life by name
What words escape your lips
Or will they remain
caught on your tongue?

Sparrow couldn't get you to listen
so Sparrow kept speaking as much
as he could in the vain hopes that
maybe something would stir with in
you to help bring about understanding
This was not to be unfortunately

Places to Go, Parts to Play

I heard a voice begin to sing
from a distant place
I could hear the voice
clearly in my mind
Everywhere I went
the voice followed
singing it's songs
and melodies
I started walking and
decided to walk
until I could find the voice
So I walked and walked
and occasionally slept
then walked and walked
and slept some more
How many days passed
in this manner
I do not know
I kept listening
and walking
and at times I felt closer
At night I would watch the stars
and feel the coolness on my skin
the voice still singing
though a bit more quietly
and now singing lullabies
One night I fell asleep
and when I woke
I could no longer hear the voice
singing nor it's beautiful melodies
I looked towards the blinding sun
and decided to walk home
Every so often I remember
that voice and cry
and wonder if
such beauty could
exist again

Empties

Empty liquor bottles gather dust
sitting on the floor.
Soldiers without purpose
Life's blood drained and gone
So why do they remain
A silent testament
to night's of half-bred thoughts
and delusions
to cauterize the weight
of each day that had passed
Buried above ground
until they are tossed into
a heap and their bodies
shatter into shards

There are people staring
There are people who always say something
There are people who always do nothing
Don't mind them
Don't listen to them
Let me them be nothing

incarnation of this life
existing in this time
for how many years
for how many more lives

lay down your words

Color / Birth / Rhythm

Color of morning
Color of waking
Warmth amongst the slight chill
of sunlight fading into being

Remember the place
from before you were born
Return to this endless home
From birth to life
to where we return
Remember the place
from before you were born

Listen to the heartbeat
Calm and measured
Rhythm of life
Simple

Unconditional Kindness

There have always been
            will always be
those who prey
on kindness
as a sign of weakness
How sick
does one have to be
to see the full measure
of open heartedness
as weakness

True-

weakness does exist
in us but only as
brutish strength
that believes
itself entitled
to everything

Sleep

I'm sleeping better these days
It's a small thing in a vast world
but it's a big thing in a small life
The pain
The suffering
that afflicts many
is still there
It is not far from my mind
but I am better
for being able to deal
with myself
so I can deal
with everything else

Looking for peace in a world torn apart by madness.

Wild Forest Blood - Music for Incidents

Waking and breathing
Normal gift
given over and over
Are you grateful still?

Present and Afterwards

What will be remembered 
once all memory has been exhausted
Will it be anything worth holding on to

Grow up and be a better man
Leave the bitterness in the past
Free yourself

Morning 9/29/17

Where does the world begin
If you can find the point
at which it starts
will you learn more
than you expected


Comfortable within moving patterns
of recognition
Shapes
sights and
behaviors
we have seen before
What is there to be learned
within the familiar
All we know is not known to us
There lies more beyond
the surface
How much further
How much deeper
It is there
It is there
waiting to be seen

Morning 9/28/17

Should I be afraid to call you beautiful
I think of you but leave these thoughts
quiet inside

Shall I always be myself
in this body

Living with imperfection
though trying for betterment

To indulge or abstain
to purify or taint

In memory I hold you close
as memory can allow
Younger days and fallen tears
Our lives grown separate
through passing years
Recalling a night of final parting
holding you close by the light
of the quiet harbor
Neither of us wanted to part
but we did
To choose freely
To inflict a hurt on ourselves
Though love
an affection
still lingers on
in past life memory

i had to stop pretending to be
everything i've never been
everything gets old and outdated
even me even you

Morning 9/27/17

sunrise in my heart
dawn is birthed behind my eyes
alive once again


Before day is done
what truth do you wish to know
In your heart you seek answers
you've already been given

Pray for a good life
Make your life a good life
Pray for health
Pray for healing
Live well

Morning 9/26/17

fragile peace but peace none the less

The normal and mundane
You settle for what you have
Do you ever desire for more than this
This life flows through you
What will you do with it
While it yet still moves?

Together yet so far apart
Is this really what it seems
Heartache and suffering by so many
Can we be so oblivious to our kin

All divisions are artificial
Blinded by shortsightedness
We are better than this
Toss insecurity aside
Open your heart

Querida de mi corazon
Te extrano con cada dia que pasa

What are you listening for?
What do you need most?

Become the waters from which life emerged.

A self greater than mere body.

Spring and Summer will always pass.
Fall and Winter will always pass.

Men of No Country

We have no choice into what nation we are born,
what time in history we come into, and who our parents
are. We have no choice if we are born into a time of
peace or war. We have no choice if we are born with
many material advantages or none. We are not responsible
for the past glories of our nation of origin. We are only
responsible for our actions towards ourselves and to others.
There have always been and will always be leaders who
do not speak for the people but rather, speak out in ways
that harm many of those whom they allegedly protect.
Human history is littered with tiny men who have desired
to be loved and acclaimed by the rightness of their vision
but whose vision was always fundamentally flawed.
Better people than me have summed things up in this way:
"All origins are accidental." - Fugazi

Ashram

Calling out in prayer
the names of God
Rhythm and repetition
Voices become one
Exalting that which
is present and unseen

Emerge from the shadows of delusion
Step into the light which reveals truth

These sounds bring peace and stillness
to the beating heart of the waking day

Colossus of Rhodes

Standing guard over the entry to the harbor
a beacon of civilization and art
it too fell to the forces of nature as
all things do as all things must
Memory stains the story of history
as it lives on through the tales
of what had once long ago been

Listening In

The gaze must turn inward
The path winds through our life
and mind and we must
follow that which leads us through
To be alive and mindful
of that which courses through us
that which propels us forward
To be more than the body
which holds us to this world
Seeking that which transcends
the self and gives life
to the unseen soul of us
I profess to be nothing more
than a student watching and
interacting with this life
I desire to be more compassionate
and understanding of others
I know this time is fleeting
and wish to nurture that
which matters most
To wake from sleep and
to fall into it is merely to
travel between worlds
I close my eyes and listen to
mother's voice as she heals me
Together in this place
We must grow together
Creation is life

The Author

With each passing moment
we are writing word after word
sentence after sentence
and page after page
into the book of our lives

Small actions
Big thoughts
Hopes
Aspirations
Failures
Pure and
impure thoughts
Kindness and
cruelty
That which
builds and
diminishes

All thoughts and actions
accruing into a story
we are aware of

Hoping for change
we must write it
we must live it

Do not let the pages
cut the skin of your fingers

Bleed when necessary
Create always
Create all ways

what speaks through us

to create balance within
the mind and soul
to create balance within
the body and heart
this pursuit is never ending
how could it be so
age has taught me of the
shortcomings of my past
i am a student of this life
and still seek enlightenment
in each passing day
i listen to the wind
i listen to the waves
i listen to the rustling branches
of the trees all around me
i listen to the stillness
within mine own heart
this life moves the blood
through my body
gives rise to the thoughts
and words in my mind
let me grow in greater compassion
let me grow in greater understanding
let me grow in greater forgiveness
i wish to be more human and humane

Morning 9/21/17

Memories I do not wish to forget
though the days stretch longer behind us
Quiet moments in private places
acting as two people together do alone

What happens when the thoughts are unleashed
and the mind lets itself flow freely through
unencumbered fingers Is it possible to truly let
thought emerge with no block To emerge as
whole as possible I do not know but I am trying
to see if it is Childhood and adulthood are colors
melting into the same canvas creating new shades
of what had once been Where do old habits begin
Change is difficult when we attempt to enact it
ourselves and it is also difficult when it is thrust
upon us

You're hidden in my skin You wear it well
The words are all wrong when you speak
It rains slowly and softly You don't bother
with an umbrella Let it fall Let it fall

Morning 9/20/17

I'd try to be someone else
but I'd just lose myself
and that'd be no good for me

Walking into morning light
I see you coming down
the other end of the street
I see you wave and I wave
back to you

All paths circle and wind
back together again
Walk far enough and we'll
be here once more
I can't forget that which
we've suffered through

Morning 9/19/17

The Melancholy of Summer Passing

If Summer were our youth
we would mourn it's passing all the same

We fall in love and lust
with the image of the body
yet rarely in those moments
of base desire consider the
power of the unseen lives
within that give life to the
corporeal visage we see

To Listen

Begin by listening
What should I listen for
Listen to the stillness within
How can I do that
Find a time and place to be
alone and quiet
Once you are there
be quiet
close your eyes
and it will come
What if it doesn't
It will
even if you don't
realize it
Then what
That's for you
and only you
to know
and decide
Trust in yourself
and listen
and when the time
is right
act

Another Awakening

You wake up and you realize
you are dying
It doesn't bother you
as much as you would think
You are not dying from illness
or accident at the moment
merely the accretion of days
behind you but dying
is dying nonetheless
You wait for the sun
to peer through the gray
hazy morning but it has
been unable to do so
You put on a sweater
for a little extra warmth
You sit and listen
to nothing at all
to everything at all

First Song

He's pacing the stage as the band finishes setting up
behind him. His thin black sports coat fits well with
his faded black dress pants. Both have survived many
nights that have started like this. The bass player is
looking at him while the drummer is impatiently
rapping his fingers on his snare drum. The guitarist looks
up to let them know he's almost done tuning. The sound
guy lets them know he's ready whenever they are. Drake
stops pacing for a moment to give him the thumbs up.
The guitar player nods at him. He glances over at his
keyboard player set up next to his backing vocalist Nancy.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. We're Mutual Fools."
Four clicks on the hi-hat and the music began. The wash
of color from the stage lights might as well have been
the barometer for their souls. The room swelled and filled
with the sound of a band roaring to life. Drake moved
side to side across the stage with the microphone grasped
firmly in hand. Each gesture of his hands and body
accented the music in a way no punctuation could alter
the words on a page. They moved in perfect time as
the music moved from verse to chorus, to verse to chorus
to bridge and chorus. Nancy looked as glamorous as
an old time movie starlet with her sequined dress hugging
her body tight as she sang and played the tambourine.
As the final beat of the song approached Drake turned
his back to the audience and threw the mic straight into
the air. Without looking he reached for it in air and caught
it as the final beat landed with the power of pure conviction.  

Fusion

Wake up when you wake up
when you wake up
wake up

Consciousness has been here
even when you weren't

Images take on life in abstract
palette tones

Memory fuses with unconscious
desire

An imagined life lived in unseen
places

Say the word 'sky' and purple
colored horizon emerges

over a land of kaleidoscope
colors

begging to exist but too beautiful
for this world

Gray hazy morn greets your
open eyes

Imagined memories will not
leave you

Yet was it truly imagined

if memory remains

by morning

grief

when we speak of loss
what is it we are actually speaking of
the dead can no longer be bothered
by our grief or indifference
once they have joined
the endless stream of matter
when we speak of loss
we speak of our grief
and the lack of what once was
we speak of the desire
to live in the memory of life
our grief is a duality
of acceptance and longing
for what can no longer be
grief will come again
and it will be so in our lives
until we ourselves
are the subject of another's grief

Everyone is Broken and Suffering.

Will i just be a footnote in the tragedy of your life?

movement

moving slowly
as if trapped in honey
rhythm seeps into
bone and flesh
soon enough
you don't resist
and move and
move and move
to the universe
finding itself
within you

Don't Believe It

I told her I don't believe in love
She loved me anyway
Just to prove a point
And I'm just a fool
To hold on to my beliefs
And not know when
I've been proven wrong
I told her I loved her
And she said I don't believe you
I said it doesn't matter
I don't believe in love anyway
We agreed and loved
 Each other anyway

Convergence

Heat of summer nights

Daylight trapped within walls

All plans laid undone

Dark waves rolling in 

Still shores at rest

Breathing quietly

Where does the darkness

of sky and ocean converge

Unified into a point

far beyond the horizon

Looking and looking

Finding no answer

Those Who Watch

The angels are watching and listening
You don't think
You don't worry about
much because of this
You wonder what they think
as they look upon us
and see what we do
and how we treat one another
Do they judge us harshly
for our inhumanity
to one another
or do they leave
the judging
to another divine being
They do not speak to us
but they are watching
or so some would
have us believe
I'll not worry
about any of this
I have a life to lead
and so does
everyone

Reality Not Myth

You wake up sober
because you haven't been drinking
and you begin to feel bad
for all the writers and artists
over time immemorial
who have fallen to the false
promise of drink
and built their myths
on the power
of this escapism
Fuck forever
Fuck immortality
Give me a good nights sleep
and feeling alive
at the hour of my waking
each day

morning 9/12/17

Children of the summer

returning back to school

mothers happy and anxious

children curious and unsure

What happened to the life I had seen

or was promised

How much must we make 

to live and survive

The years are aging me and

I don't know how many are left

I try to be the good man

as often as I can

Time is passing

and leaving me behind

This life will not

look back if we are left 

in the rearview mirror

Every So Often

Every morning
I ask myself if
I am a reincarnation
of a past self
come once more
into this living world
This opportunity
to exist
comes only so often
Who could turn
this chance at
life and beauty

Bear & Wolf

The Bear & The Wolf

I don't need feathers to fly
or wings to flap

Modern Boredom
numbing me asleep

Lover whom I will never forget

Conscious thoughts given birth through
nailed digits This life of growth and decay
Your childhood left you stranded in this
strange place where all sights are familiar
and unrecognizable The path is revealed
and concealed at every step Let the mind
unfurl itself through an unclouded body

elemental cosciousness

unsteady weariness from within
and without
i live yet i rot
returning to essential elements
no need to be buried
i'll turn to dust
     scatter in the wind
consciousness expands
                       as I
join / dissolve
into everything
I had hoped
to be

Morning 9/9/17

With each sunrise I must remember my personal
capacity to change. It becomes hard for me to
remember this sometimes after ages of living in
a fairly set routine.

Could I have ever given you the life you deserved?

Exert the control and willpower you have proven
yourself capable of through the years.

Remembering love that once blossomed.

What is broken can still be
                         healed
                                    forgiven

Finding the light of a spiritual practice.
Defining that which gives me hope and
allows me to aspire to a greater manner
of existing.

Drinking? Why?

Foolish capacity for perpetuating bad habits

I woke up in much the same way I do most mornings.
Is this right? Is this boring? Am I sick of feeling this
way? I am no fool, though, I do foolish things. Absent
the love I seek I fill myself with foolish waters to live
my days and nights. I am better than this. Too often I
have felt need for it when it was unnecessary. There is
a cycle of depression, drinking, and dependency I have
let take too large a grasp on me. They feed off of each
other and keep me in this locked cycle as long as I
choose to keep perpetuating it. It is easy to tell myself
to stop these bad habits, it's only words, it is so much
more difficult to wean the body and mind of the
foolish comforts we have grown accustomed to.
To change this habit of drinking is to begin to change
the other habits and insecurities that plague my life.
Each action, each decision is one tied to another.
No action exists in a vacuum. All my choices live
with one another. How to be the better person in
mind, body, and spirit, that I have always seen my
self to be? By choices made once and followed
upon in order to create new patterns of choice and
health. I have noticed my habit has moved into the
realm where the pleasure of it feels dwarfed by my
need to maintain it. It is growing boring but I have
continued to perpetuate it to my own detriment.
Change the choices you make, change your life.
You are afraid. Deep inside it worries you. Remind
yourself of the strength of which you are capable of.
Try to always live and act as honestly to yourself as
you are capable of.

states

Time is
Time was
Time present
Time past
Time future
Too much or
Not enough
Never enough
Present now
Uncertain future
Present now
Here and
Now and
Here and

Morning 9/7/17

Does morning rise within you?

Morning 9/6/17

What Thoughts Are Possible
When One Truly Opens The Mind?

The door swings open but I am unsure
if I am ready to walk through.

Morning 9/5/17

When I began to float away I felt fine.
I became used to it fairly quickly.
And so I existed floating through this
world and watching it from above.
As time went on I began to miss being
on the ground. I missed walking and
running and the simple things of our
lives. I began to search for gravity
but it was not as easy as one would
hope.

Suffer the disease
Heal yourself
You have always
had the cure

it is far too easy to maintain
a life just comfortable enough
to survive but not enough to
grow and blossom fully

Grief will haunt you as long as necessary.

I needed that conversation.
I need you to talk to about life
and the last week or so.
Did I need as many drinks,
probably not.

Only I can create the change within myself
that I truly desire. No one can give it to me.

Phantom heart.

This world is our mirror.

This world is flame and ash.
New soil will grow new life.
Everything burns until
the flame is spent.

NOW is both declarative and imperative.

Mourning After.

The desire to close all windows and doors
to the outside world and only come out once
the tempest has passed.

Many Lives Remembered

I remember all my past lives when I wish
though I do not wish it often. Echoes of
previous lives dot my days, a familiar
smell, a particular flower coming into
view, that sometimes I find it hardly
believable that I am able to accomplish
anything. Births, deaths, all come in and
out of view along with faded heartache
that is dull to the touch. Born again for
how many times now? I have forgotten
how many times I have come and gone
but I will continue on until at last I have
been unchained from the wheel of life.
What comes then? Freedom? Wisdom?
Enlightenment? Omniscience? I suppose
it doesn't really matter. To move beyond
and into that which is unknowable.

The Final Dream

Everything was on fire and the mountains were
shrouded by clouds of ash. People could not stand
the heat but had nowhere to go. People sweated
through their clothes and even the waters at the
beaches provided no relief. The sky was ashen
gray and the sun struggled to pierce the veil.
Daylight began to mimic night and people and
animals began to sleep fitfully. Time seemed as
though it was beginning to unspool but where
was it unspooling from? Minutes and hours
began to feel indistinct from one another. So
it seemed that everything was feeling apart.
Nothing could hold. The heat began to drive
people mad but everyone understood why.
Violence and crime began to infect every
where all at once as if it were a virus. Blood
shed on the streets and in homes. No place
was immune from this furious season. Yet
the tides at the beaches continues to come in
and out. The moon would occasionally peer
through from the sky and grow horrified at
what she could see. The sun grew indifferent
at what it had to witness. Some said it was
the end of times, that Jesus was about to
return but He never did. God gave no
booming proclamation from heaven to His
children. In fact, some people said He had
forgotten us, that was why everything was
happening, to punish us for our sins. It did
not stop the sinning. The people howled for
relief, for salvation, but none would ever
come. Weeks and months went by in this
fashion until at last years began to pass.
Our population thinned but the madness
and violence only continued. The gray days
taunted us with the possibility of pure
sunlight but it never came. What few
children were born into this time, many
were sickly and died. Few lived but those
that did were hardened in a way their
parents could never be. I began to wonder
if things would ever change, if we would
ever return to the life we all led before.
I realized I was a fool for thinking we
could ever return to such a state. And if we
ever did it would be many lifetimes removed
from my own. I survived, we survived
as best we could, as long as we could.
And when the day came I could no longer
bear the weight of being I found the standing
body of a dead tree, it's branches stripped
of leaves, sat down on the ground, leaned
my back into its trunk and closed my eyes.
I began to dream until I dreamt no more.