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