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it’s easy to live multiple lives. many things happen all at once in my mind. from thing to thing day to day hour to hour, minute to minute. i do different things with different people not feeling like the same person with everyone don’t know what i’m doing don’t know what to do anyone watching…
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early bird, twice shy, let’s the cat out of the bag not bothering sleepy dogs. (they all had their day) half done, he’d begun. jumped on the bandwagon like riding a bicycle. sipping a teacup full of storms, head in cloud nine, the ball was in his court. today he’d catch a wild goose or…
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like drifts amassing during a blizzard, the pile of used kleenex is growing with the winter cold.
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what is my legacy? my art, my life, a farce and a fantasy, reflections in life’s funhouse mirror, everything real, everything truthful, what is my legacy? artifice, facts distorted, perceived as real, lies misinterpreted, nothing fact, much fantasy. mostly speculation about what might have been, often simply subjective interpretation, puzzling pieces, perhaps from different puzzles,…
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in quiet afternoon light, gentle rhythmic thrill of purring feline curled softly on lap, whiskers twitching in dreams of majestic flight. fern standing proudly aside, asparagus fronds, delicate and green, whisper secrets soft and loud, in stillness, a tranquil scene. raven caw-caw-caws from apple tree, raspy voice, deep and wise, dark sentinel of the…
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golden fingerlings massage frosted fields reddening rivulets leak toward distant peaks earlybird’s laughter floats on morning breeze grumpy elder grins at celestial gift Stafford Challenge day one.
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today i awoke in a new year feeling happy to be alive thankful for my home, family, friends and Matisse The Cat. grateful for clean water to drink, good food to eat, solar panels for energy, comfortable clothes, a garden and seeds full of potential. today i awoke in a new year feeling prophetic. like…
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Linguistic Anarchy when you’re down and troubled mischievous words elevate your spirit perform random acts of poetic graffiti © 2024
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amundsen was the last man to be the first to reach the south pole the moment i begin to share a beautiful dream, it is over. armstrong was the last man to be the first to walk on the moon is it an impossibility to share a dream without ending it?
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as he peers looking with all his might something unfamiliar appears. something beautiful, something exciting, something new amazed at the wonder of unexpected change, he realizes the power of occasionally gazing with all his might in another direction.
Desert Dweller 