The Shining Lands- Poem posted to Craigslist- Feb 1st, 2013

In Life as in all things
nothing,
gives rise to everything
Space cradles Earth


Earth cradles you
And within the humblest corner inside
resides your greatest strength
expecting nothing, saying nothing
Like a solid green prow
waving above emerald seas of trees

Go West and see
A gigantic land awaits beyond
setting sun and autobahn
waves of quantum and mores of possibility
Go West
where space awaits for rivers run of people
in country-sides green and gold
eager for exploring sights.

My eye, spies another time
where lives were simple,
where rights like my 10 amendments
which scintillate as fire in hearts.
Still, yet, learning to be free.
You, me, our feet-
which follow suns retreat, Go West
to where rest awaits for Sun's embrace
and learn- Nature's secret,
that time has geography,
and life has a face!

It's Been a Long Time

My wanderlust
mimics occupation.
Seemingly a dream
of new days coming.
For my soul's body
makes apparent
some of Life is genetic
in my understanding.

mimicking occupation
are children
learning by observing
practicing by play
until big enough for pay

Seemingly a dream
life is a beach
I crawled up on
from catastrophe at sea
onto isolated island
with mostly beasts
for company
with nothing to mimick
in occupation
except animals I perceive.

New days come,
in agony I weep
from silent peace,
gray days and black nights
haunted by figments
of light and shadow
playing across imaginations
as I listen
from the room with a view
to wide seas breaking
upon my shore
and rain pelting my roof
in my narrow harbor

My soul's body
is defective
but its all I got
and so I clothe it
in privacy to protect
and jealously guard chapt skin
This I must make last
for a lifetime
like the quart jars
swaddled in macrame
I refill each rain.

Apparently,
I could leave
anytime I want
but lacking RFID chip
under palm skin
grocery doors won't open,
tills won't ring.
Some people with ocular bionics
can't even see me
I have most of what I need, here
except people
And anyway,
I can't run away
from myself in any case
except by mini-vacation.
Me, always seems to catch up
whether or not I look back.
And the beer isn't completely shit

Some of Life is genetic
imparted by eons of evolution
of Man struggling with Nature
but also against Markets and Industry
as paths we trod determine survival
of both path and camper
whether or not destination
is truthful and beautiful
for our health, wealth,
ingenuity, and acceptance

Understanding this,
I sit alone
in comfort of radio
watching time lap
upon shores of wooded forest
from inside insulated box
with company of chickadee
and it's occasional calling fee-bee
as winter latches lickety-split
onto shackles of my cigarette.

It's been a long time since shipwreck,
and having learned to observe
I crawl up
on gray days and black nights
that last lifetimes, it seems,
broken only by mini-vacation
as a path I trod for survival
in shores of wooded forest.

In Language of Souls

A Lark harkens to the laughter inside
the thoughts and emotions leading to which instead.
We work and fork reality led, to peddle faster
down rolling hills laughing-


at least alive

and that laughter sharing our souls embrace
alights like starlings on branches space
There is no thing, no boson of fun
but the laughter and companionship
rolls round our head, in effusive
collaborative creation fashioned
a language of souls like trees talking to dead
a synergy, a chemistry, a synthesis of energy
in networks of language, Like English! we live

so starlings perch

though I should predicate
that navel gazing can take all day
just as one can poke fence posts in rows
for birds to arrange notes and chime tides of light
calling hours solemn or sparkled
A lark or a starling childs of morn

and poets pontificate


As ordained ministers of truth and beauty
in the houses of lords
like said masters of hawthorne
License granted by proof of effort
we marry truth and beauty
and divorce hate and war
Wishing Merry or Forlorn
to share a piece of themselves
Like said Starling in the language of souls
simply communing, simply us.

In Pantheons of Gods

In ancient days the pagans sang or praised
many Gods in Roman plays and temple place
Worshipping with many altars giving alms
until Christ the King rode over palms
and Roman Constantine made One God
the Roman Way, both axes and rods.
Subsuming roles into church and state
so too did many alters amalgamate
Or did they?
Today many visit banks,
visit church and give lip service
in lasting and meaningful places

Take Walmart or MickyDee's
or any other corporate beast
In servicing needs, we alight on piece
present offerings, hang out a while
Just like the pagans in their style
they'd visit five temples a day
when we visit 5 stores in similar ways
servicing our contentment for some money,
If you give, so shall you receive honey!

Something through this societal contract
in pagan roots, and modern contact
We worship ingenuity and wealth
as well as acceptance and of health
Isn't that the modern Pantheon?
By my eyes, It is an ancient one.
but not the original G
no that was a tree
which provided protection and food
enough for some, maybe all but fools
in search of truth and beauty too.

I wonder what kind of tree
would bring full circle
questions of God's people.

Cropping Closer to my Soul

time's abyss opens and swallows me
chewing bones into splinters
smashing grey brains to grey mush
leaving me wondering
who am I, what do I want
and how do I begin again
all cherished activity

A dream of being
a fisherman plying the stream
refreshed by rushing rivers
over my toes and into my bones
catching the occasional trout

could it be that easy,
just hop in the truck and return at sundown
my biological clock screams no
don't go it alone
ticking off needs for company
with each passing moment

finding needs replaced by wants and greed
Time's abyssal maw crops
closer to my soul's cradle

The Star Dawns

The star dawns
to glow low beyond
where people lay
sleeping
Even birds sheltering
this morn
as the dewy rose
rises silently
in the red paints bleeding
through trees and smoke
and a million atoms of
carbon dioxide
spewed out from
freedom and necessity
pumping change into ecosystems
As if we, the human race
hadn't changed enough
Or have we?
We still treat amusements
as curiosities, and little gizmo
revolutions aren't what
aren't anything preconceived
so do we ignore the levity
of good fortune

the fortune of prognostication
through oracles of science fiction
the fortune of demonstration
through summits of simple toys
the fortune of illumination
through power grids of historical poets
the fortune of leadership
through history of democracy
the fortune of peace
through work of dreams
the fortune of work
through presents of time
the fortune of time
through health of galaxies

The rise of Mankind dawned with gratitude
for connections that protected and fed
his freedom and necessities
If we worship anything, we worship this
in our daily struggles for fish and bread
let US in our daily lives
give thanks and recognition
because Life
 is all connections

Feeling Rational

When I step into the dark
I step into me
I don't know what I feel
I don't know what I'll say or do

in search of mystery
out in the dark night
I've become the biggest
mystery of all
only knowing what I've wanted
in the past's saying or doing

The darkness bleeds
from under my eyelids
and I'm left wondering
if the birds that visit my tree
have any paper or pens
so that I may compose
a few thoughts
before wanting, saying, or doing
anything
that I'd rather not
be accomplice to

There's no end to every action
whole continuums have been erased
by this Bull pine in a china shop
dropping pinecones.

and so maybe I wear a chalkboard
to say the things I DO Want to say
Do not gawk, I'm only trying to live

Penguin

The hungry penguin
searches the seas
for something interesting
a bright light
that glimmers
under the water
!dinner!

Swimming he glides
walking
and getting
to the waters edge
not so much

but the swimming
peeling past
the hungermomfs
and sleekers
is sometimes done
with the greatest of ease

and so much water
to grace the skies
and so much beach
to settle on
I can not resist
the urges to use it

Change

The mad dash past sharp sharks
draws a light withdrawn and melancholy
for thinking and dinking around productively
in the oceans seas
seems like so much work
after such a brush with finality.

Where comes impetus
to change what you do
rather than to
change circumstances
of oceans blue.

From you
must vision gleam
of detrimentality
and Your soul
guiding
towards lives
of hope & love

through intuition

to faith
    of
 dreaming hearts