Part II (Unrelated)

I am the pine on the mountainside.

The shelter high, the shelter low.
To all who need, the wind will blow.
The hiker, the biker, the bug, the bee,
The deer and elk and to all who need.

I am the pine on the mountainside.

I take so small a space to do my love, my life.
I ask no favor and need no want.
I provide for all who seek.
Just ask; take a peek.

I am the mansion on the mountainside.

My place sits a space so lush, lavish.
I give to one the month of lust, wantonness.
I refuse to others the basic of needs, shut off for the rest of time.
I, the greedy bitch, suck life and deeds.

I am the mansion on them mountainside.

I sit so grand and gorgeous, don't you think?
Do not approach.
Just marvel and wish then build your own dish.
I serve one and only one of waste and wish.

I am the mountain.

I have been here long before all.
I have seen the eons go by like fireflies in the fall.
Some will come and all will go.
I will be here immovable, just so.

I am the mountain.

I am the land unknown, untamed.
Wild is my hair and freezing is my kiss.
Quiet are my thoughts.
And ancient are my ways.

I am the mountain.

Part I

See me on the other side;
Past the critic's cry;
And the friend's long sigh.

To me and free;
From self-deceived white lies;
And myth's tall tales of would-be thrills.

Do not hear what others say;
Meet me here in this shy, secret gate.

Together we shall see;
who we be, to be, forever be.

True to self and true to you;
No one else dictates;
Say who I am and who I be.

See me other the other side.

The Storm (Thoughts on Five Years)

My lover is the storm who flies fast above this drenched soul.

The billowing clouds of Love's fleshly mounds shadow the land;
promises a quenching of a lover's lost wet.

With lightening, she sees the land waiting for her;
With thunder, she call out to him.

The storm is wild and unyielding;
powerful and plenty.

The land is open and receiving;
of the love the storm brings.

Bearing life in the aftermath;
yearning for a return.

Move

Open your eyes;
World is changing at a fast pace;
Do not be the last picked with the flies;
Open your mouth, shout out, take a taste.

Sleepers do not live, only let go;
Awake, take part, be alive;
Stagnate reeks, does not flow;
Movement grows, glow afire.

Choices, lay or make;
Your inheritance, give or take;
Life is movement, moving;
Be swept away and step in to the day.

40th Psalm

Raw & Grated
Callous, Ripped & Torn
Still hanging by a patch, attached

Broken & Beaten
Smashed, Snapped & Thrown
Crawling back to the mire, liar

Cool - Moist - Thick
Seems to soothe
Harden it will and begin
Callous anew, grew

Was there - Ready to go
Move but stayed
Hardened, Hurt & Handicapped, Sapped

Untitled #2

My paradigm has shifted today.
This made me think.
It made me ponder.

Have you ever been challenged quietly on an idea you have held so close for so long?

I have.
And, now I think.
I sit and ponder.

"...the life of a creature is in the blood."

Let me think and then we will talk.

I promise.

Wrestling

Keep walking, even if you're limping.
Carry your new name and your wounds.
You are enough. Keep wrestling. Let go, hang on. Do whatever you are called to do; or do nothing.

Be still.
Celebrate.
Just keep wrestling.

(Thanks for thought Rick D. I may not agree with everything you say, but I appreciate the nudge and conversation.)

An Outcome of Writing Without Thinking

Worldwide crusaders ride and fight for the issues of the here and there. Sometimes they fight because they are needed, and sometimes they fight because they need to do so. But, who will fight for the fighters who to this foreign land and overlord their laws, morals, ethics, ideas, teachings, dress, customs, accents, and stylings? And, speaking of styles, what is the style of the States? Is it hip? Is it Hip/Hop? Is it business casual or haute couture? Is it redneck or beatnik? Is it patriotic or documentary?

“Melting Pot” is what the culture was called at the turn of the century. What is it called today? Maybe it’s the “Microwave” culture, (one-minute on a spin plate and you are nice and tasty.) But, is it just the flavor for the day or the next wave of the future only to change with the next, new iPod? Go ahead and have it all and tell everyone that you do on a bumper sticker before you rear-end the person ahead of you. How can one stand the fast-food, drive-through, big & bigger TV lifestyle that is filled with stuff but not substance?

So who will come from far away and ride his horse to the rescue of the fair maiden of Global-American culture? Who will awaken the masses out of their multi-stimuli fog of daily techno-advanced slumber? Will there be new laws, cultures, morals, ethics, and abilities? I don’t know if those asleep want to wake up and move, but I know that there are limits to the things one can acquire. There is beauty in the freedom of nothingness. There is wonder in the dark, starlit sky. There is newness in a trail leading away from civilization. Pollution (noise, water, air, food, spiritual, et cetera) is only for the worse for all. So then the pollution of consumerism will also rot the world. So where are the fighters and writers and crusaders and movers of souls who will ask for more from life and others? Are they not here or are they silenced? Maybe they are connected to the “net” or possibly stuck on the “web.” Someone needs to march and ride and shout the news. WAKE UP! This culture is as hollow as the hole in “Wonderland.” Be aware. Be awake. Be mobile. Be vocal. Do not sleep. Do not slumber. Do not go to the grave possessed by things, but possess the things that truly matter.

RIDE-FIGHT-LIVE

Light in Night

Star shine & blind in the dark night.

Tree shadows are plain to see by reflected moon light.

Dark falter flees in the night by the smallest rumor of the most distant light.

Dark souls hope in the smallest crack to see and shine in the night.

Pierced by light the mighty darkness fails.

I'm Late

I didn't show on my day of death;
I decided to be a little late.

I desired to enjoy the day;
I wanted to catch the all I could.

There was a gal to kiss,
A flower to pick,
An ice cream to eat,
And grass to touch with bare feet.

There was a dog to pet,
Some sunshine to get,
A kite to fly,
and bread to bake (I like rye).

I was not trying to be rude;
I knew I would be late and make death wait;
There was much to see and do and read and say and pray...

I didn't show up on my day of death,
'cause there was so much life.

Speak Up

Sometimes it is hard to do the right thing;
To be the bigger person;
To fight the losing battle.

It is hard to give it all;
When you know it is a lost cause.

But the fight needs to be fought;
The right thing needs to be done.

The easy way is not always the way;
The star of the show is not always seen.

Here is the chance to make your world a better place;
To leave it whole for those who come.

Fight the tide;
Swim against the flow tired but not alone.

Be not afraid for we may fight today together for a better tomorrow.

The Game of Life

It was high tight;
the pitch tonight.

Almost swung;
but ducked instead.

A high curve,
I was not expecting.

Times like these;
it is easy to see the straight and narrow but hard to step on and go.

The shot was off;
Not the net nor the rim.

Air is all it caught;
something is not right.

Rushed the play;
didn't see the help.

Times like these;
it is easy to do what I want but not what is best.

Times like these;
I need the humility.

Times like these;
I need the crowd to cheer not jeer.

Times like these;
the game of life is a close call- I got to get it right.