To Live

To Live

Today was a good day to live

No pressure

No competition

The river does all the chattering

Not burdened with hope and ambition

All is welcome, and with relief, so am I

I seek no validation,

But the trees bestow it

I feel included

As the birds sing their hymns

I’m a Buddha statue in the folage


Death urge lost today

Even if only for today

A little everyday

Take solace in nature. The one thing we can’t push away or run away from is the earth. We are connected to it, permanently. The earth is our most primal connection. Oxygen and water is where we begin.

Sometimes, connecting with other people fails. And that disconnection can feel like being lost in a celestial wasteland. But we are on the ground of our planet home, kept their by it’s invisible pull. We take it for granted.

Start there. Connect to nature first. We’ll never feel alone again.

IMAGE: Michigan Spring, Tom Haxby



The inner tornado
Started by a whisper
The formation begins
At the top of the head
Pulsates behind the eyes
And drops down through
The throat, lungs, stomach, pelvis

Some twisters
Only sweep leaves around
Maybe a plastic bag circles up
Giving a visual of the invisible
Then there are the monstrosities
An atmospheric catastrophic force of energy
Between the earth and sky
The only thing to do is to get out of the path
And let it run its course

As many as one, to multiples
Serial systems
Or at the same time
In the same area
Because that area causes
Multiple tornados to happen at once
Or multiple tornados in different areas
For different reasons
Different versions of destruction

For each era in life
Has cause for a storm
All it takes is a whisper
Sometimes something bigger
The voice of an opera singer
A crown
A cape
A groin ache
Doesn’t escape
It can only run its course

Well, these are anxious times, so comes out an anxious poem. No real form, unlike a real tornado. We are all walking tornados. A hug could help alleviate an attack, but we can’t. So the destruction continues, grows, and is more severe. Anxiety isn’t seasonal. 

One antidote that I have found to bring relief is wisdom – precious, and mostly found in dark and hard to reach places. Requires labor intensive care, and grows very slowly. But it provides night vision, foresight, and stillness. 

Breath in a counter wind to your inner twister, and be still. It will run its course. 

IMAGE:  KEANE LUØNG 🇨🇦 on Instagram: “The calm before the storm. ☈☈”


I Will Not Be Noise (Head Clutter)

I Will Not Be Noise
(Head Clutter)

I don’t want to talk about what is going on
I don’t want to hear about the desperate, the strong
Talking has all gone wrong

From mutated haters to emotional hijackers
There is too much weight on the support beams
I make room for so many that never shut the fuck up
I’m murdered by sound waves

Tell me about your self hate
Then I’ll believe you
Show me on your measuring stick of
How much you lose when someone different
Gets as comfortable as you
You’ll lie, cheat, and steal to make it true

Everyone is right
That’s the problem
Of course we’re all wrong, but we’re right
Nobody can stand being right
Which is why we try to change other people

I can be ignored
I’ve lost my substance
I am proof of redundant outcomes
I run in place while noise chases time away

I hope I give silence
I hope I give stillness
I hope I give space

I won’t try to take away pain
I won’t try to take away joy
That’s not up to me

I will not be noise
I will not be right
But I will be breath in the fight


Blood From This Stone

Blood From This Stone

You’ve squeezed blood from this stone

Nobody left here to know

I can’t take care of you and me

I perish the thought of three

Find someone with more inside

Because I am dead alive

I am dead alive

You’ve squeezed blood from this stone

Nobody left here to know

Out of the corner of your eye

You can get me to comply

I guess in my own way I will

After I have time to kill

I have time to kill

You’ve squeezed blood from this stone

Nobody here left to know

IMAGE: (I think) Santiago Caruso ?


March has frozen over

March has frozen over

The end to dreams

I put ice

In isolation

So many mistakes

Spring’s iceless cold

As my earth face turns

Away from the sun

Black ice sky

In Springtime

Spring is cold this month, and in many different ways. Not a healthy March. Everything is stopped as if snowed in. Cold enough, but snowing Cherry Blossoms. 

IMAGE: 1881 Artist ?


When I feel this way
Is how I feel today
Can’t tell the difference between blue and tired
There is no light at the end of this tunnel
There is no light at the end of this tunnel
Just gray
Present love
An easy cure
The problem now
The problem before
Is a cold entrance wound
I’m not sad
Not mad.
Just happiless

Not sad. Not mad. Just tired. Just gray.

IMAGE:  Leslie Avon Miller / December 03, 2011

Best He Can Do

Best He Can Do

His hands are dirty
The best he can do

Half a day he can get through
A half-hearted attempt
To show he cares about you
It’s all enough to him
The best he can do

Energy is something to lose
Sometimes for money it’s worth it
Intake is measured by the type of elevation
Everyone around him is irrelevant to the equation
This is the best that he can do

So strong in the way he holds himself up
On shoulders he uses as a crutch
The smartest guy in the room
If you are a guy in the room
The best he can do

The problem really is the double life
And not just the lies
They are a symptom
Fall though the trapdoor of deceit
When that’s the best he can do

Isolate or contain
Don’t spread his pain
Distruction is dominance
The best he can do

IMAGE: dum dum dum – Snailbooty

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