All posts tagged: explore

Ebb & Flow

I slink out into passageway of peace, clarity strokes my eyes before they open to greet the day, to feel the breeze on my cheeks. It’s that time of combined yellow/ blue light that the coo-coo doves and wrens beckon into morning. Trees dance along to whooping melodies, little girls freckled from the sun chase the cat through the sprinklers like little tyrant knights…. this is summertime. Still, I remain. Sitting outside in the gentle, humid Texas morning looking at my skin. One body, one mind, one being. Is it enough to live one life?  25 years into it and all I feel is the bitterness grind into dust and blow away like the flame in birthday wishes. Today I have made a promise to myself (and oh how I hope not to break it) to indulge in every waking moment in this busy, little, fragile life of mine. I haven’t been “home” physically or mentally for a while now, but am slowly regaining my grounds, squeezing a waking breath into that fictitious fable we …

On Things Forgotten

Recoiled skies pass in reckless abandon The wind blows through the windows, Prickly pear and other thorny things sprouting limbs And creeping up the walls of this old sheriff’s office Remain the only living occupants. If walls could talk, they mightn’t choose to speak… We leave things hanging on hall trees, And mounted above mantles Small reminders that there was life inside at Some point. But the bones and blood Of these buildings runs cold, Until there is nothing but the Forlorn faith of somber cries From voices long underground. Ghost towns and old railyards mark the skin of This heartland, Long bleached from the sun and Rusted away from unfair weather. It’s a wonder what this place must’ve been Before time turned executioner, Before people picked up their shadows And blew away like rain-flit flames Struggling for a life that is no longer theirs. Now the frames wilt And weather away in rural decay, Things that once housed, fed, and warmed Now sink back into deformed Earth. Laughes do not echo off the walls, The …

Natural Guise

What kind of value is in a sunset in a blank stare of ruby sky that lasts minutes and dies forever repeating until eyes cannot see it. What kind of meaning does a moon hold that wanes tighter and tighter into celestial discipline that breaks and bends and therefore spends eternity existing for no other purpose than mystery While the humans gleam short-lived lives capsuled by illness and delusions because one of them talked to snakes and bit into apples Isn’t it a wonder how nature spirals? that rocks cut in two could hold crystals In oysters, pearls I’m not asking what the purpose is but what is the purpose? I’ve lost my only way to see Malice once to the ears is now melody We’re living in a vaudeville thriving on the innocent kill and I’m admiring the sunsets look how much the earth endures Yet we hold no regrets.

An Ever-small Collection

I remember when love was young and I was young right with it. But the sun would rise and set and rise and I began (though ever-slowly) To forget it. I used to have this belief that one should never try to write, & so, I didn’t. I waited. I waited for the words to come naturally, to wash over me like a summer rain, but when they did come, they were nothing more but drips of scattered showers. I still, in my self-proclaimed Bukowski-esque mindset don’t try to write. But I am trying to give myself time. I’m getting older, my hands are becoming increasingly calloused. Greys are sprouting up at the top  of my head. I thoroughly enjoy the quiet. I seek it out & embrace it when it comes running to me. I savor the smallest moments, morning coffee, rainy day walks, my window rolled down in traffic. I used to believe that remaining stagnant and becoming satisfied only limited what one was capable of achieving. I don’t know if I believe …