Month: December 2016

Work

all along

there are moments

that stop us

humans need that

the breathtaking

and the heartbreaking

these moments make you reaccess

internally

as you take it all in

where you are in life

how happy or how unhappy you might be

what you love about your life

and what you don’t

nothing jest happens

or is

without a bit of work

you’re not jest healthy ‘cause you woke up and took a breath

it takes work

your space isn’t jest clean and clear and calm jest ‘cause it is

it takes work

you don’t jest reach your goals jest ‘cause you wrote ‘em down

it takes work

you don’t jest become more than you are by standing still

it takes work

you don’t jest fall in love and stay in love

it takes work

you don’t jest plant a garden and walk away and expect it to grow

it takes work

you don’t jest up and understand how you came to be

it takes work

you don’t jest change yourself for the better

without working on yourself

every day

it takes work

TL

Layers

each year

around this time

I resolve

to simply

s i m p l i f y

and each year

I’m still sitting here

trying to resolve

maybe that’s why I love

the ocean so much

‘cause it’s wide-open

with nothing on the surface

but a passing sailboat

I love land, too

‘cause it’s wide-open

could walk for days

and days

then rest under a tree

and keep walking

but here in the real world

there are layers and layers and layers and layers

of stuff

everywhere I look

I long for a truck

and the resolution to fill it up

with all this stuff

and drive it off (a cliff)

however many times

it takes

to feel that feeling

that wide-open feeling

to be minimal

my life is far from minimal

I’d like to move

just so I could box it all up

and stand in empty rooms

like when the house was first built

and there was nothing in it

but I know you have to have a chair

to sit in

a table to put your plate on

a bed to lie down in

and an outlet to plug it all up

the television, the Internet, high-def, surround sound,

the blender, the toaster, the frig, the stove, the washer, the dryer, the lamp, the rest

gotta have my music

my books

my paintings

my pictures

my equipment

all the pretty pieces

too much beauty

and that’s just the top layer

there’s the junk layer

the sentimental layer

the wardrobe layer

the gadget layer

the bulk layer

the storage layer

the why in the world layer

the gift layer

the decoration layer

the can’t get rid of layer

BUT I CAN

I can get rid of it

I have that choice

I can methodically sift through the layers

and purge

so, why haven’t I

done that

yet

here and there I have

but you’d never know it

‘cause getting rid of layers

takes time

and energy

a toll

but more than anything else

it takes resolve

a tanker truck load

of resolve

(and a giant cliff)

TL

More Than This

there’s a fence

around the field

to keep the cattle

in place

the horse at gait

an old Oak

umbrellas the sun

slows the descent

needling down

the wind’s force

subdued

a stray dog

wanders around

sniffing for home

stacks of hay

rolled tight like twine

the bare minimum

nothing but space

like you could walk forever

and figure it out

why you’re here

a sunset in the sky

slowly closes its eyes

a black blanket

of warmth

the last of the embers

sleep is an absolution

rest without death

it doesn’t matter

in those hours

of fade

TL

Here and Now

I took

a walk

to clear

the clouds

my eyes

on the ground

I miss the morning

ray

glittering on the grass

that feeling

that life is circular

back to the beginning

the first page

the closer you get

to understanding

the further you are

from it

standing in snow

the trees are dripping

tomorrow it’ll be

slush

Monday you’ll never know

it snowed

the grass will need cutting

green tomatoes

will turn red

white flowers become

berries

grapes on the vine

apples hanging by a limb

the pits and seeds and rinds

peeling back time

am I better or worse

I can hear the train

the church bells ringing

tomorrow it’ll rain

you walked by

and didn’t know me

I sit back down

and wait

my turn

TL

Guinevere

she’s somewhere

in Tennessee

still playing with black bears

and picking lavender

from her hair

awake with the moon

pointing up at the stars

and giving them names

she pulls out her guitar

and sings

and I wonder if she’s happy

not the ha ha happy

but the I’m-living-my-little-girl-dream-happy

there in the wilderness

of winter and wildflowers

mountain streams

in mist

her footprints worn on the path

the birds are chirping

like crickets

and raindrops

and I think I heard her

humming

TL

Empty Vases

there are

petals in the river

blown there by the wind

far from the face of a flower

they kiss the water

and get swept away

by a strong current

the moon in its mood

at different phases

a sentimental star

cast the shadow down

a million miles from the garden

where once the eye would linger

perfumed in the air

a white rose took blush

in the heat of a stare

some roses fall to pieces

and get carried to the river

while others bleed on the vine

and drop like ash

a magic few

make it inside

by hand

to trim a table

or romance a room

or keep a page

or the company

of the mind

the mystery of the heart

where once a rose

did bloom

a token of youth

and all that’s lost

in June

TL

Wandering

on nights

like this

when it’s pouring

down

I think about things

certain things

like ticking clocks

that suddenly stop

moving

how boiling kettles

whistle and spit and spew

then settle

how ice cubes

melt into a drink

like a snowman in the snow

how a small child has more fun

with dirt and rocks and sticks

than plastic pieces that beep and blink

how you can have the best intentions

and be misunderstood

how nobody wants to lose

but loss is not a choice

how you can look at a picture

and it takes you back

how the land can stay the same

when everything else changes

how the body and mind can decay

but not the spirit

how you can look at the ground

and walk all over it

and never see yourself beneath it

how the poorest person can be rich

and the richest person can be poor

how it’s not the music that makes the music good

but the person listening to it

how you can take a brick and stack it

and build a castle

how the earth is full of wonder

in the smallest speck of dust

how nothing is without want

were it not for need

how against all odds

it makes it

and lives

TL

Graves

the leaves

are wet with rain

a final sip

before they fall away

leaving bones of bark

skeletal

would that a bird

give it blush

the moon its dress

the rain its jewels

TL