The Cat of Normalcy

The cat of normalcy
has got my tongue
my vision no longer free to fly
as it once did
my nebulous mind
no longer wandering amongst the stars
my poetic words
no longer flowing freshly from the void
my mind is filled with bills and worries
too mundane to spark my soul
my beautiful religion
carefully crafted
with controlled abandon
my own godhood
perhaps it was all a dream
an immature illusion
a narcissistic fantasy life
designed to mask my imperfections
perhaps it all led nowhere after all
does it matter?


Still here…

Just a short post to let my readers know that I am still here:) I have been trapped in Facebook games and daily life as of late and have not been writing. I do feel one coming on though….
I raced with the Winter King
carrying the torch of Summer
held high
I gathered in the harvest
from the gardens of the Sun
as the western sky grew red
and the cold breath of Winter began

All the while the cry rang in my head:
The King is dead!

Long live the King!

Tomorrow I drive to Santa Fe

Echoes of the ancients
unravelling amongst the vigas
digging in the ditches dug
300 years ago
my life unfolding before me
bringing itself to my undying attention
showing me where my faults lie
shedding light upon my strength
bringing me closer to that which is myself
in all my incantations and incarnations of being
today I watered my garden
tomorrow I drive to Santa Fe

Hunger and Hope

In honor of this day I am re-posting a previous poem that I feel is appropriate to the occasion. I hope that this is not a cop-out. It probably is, and I will probably write a new piece to go with the occasion, but it is 11:35PM on “Bloggers Unite For Hunger and Hope” day and I want to post something before midnight and I want it to be good. Is it because I care or because I am vain? I do not know the answer. I eat one meal a day and live on trail mix and beef jerky the rest of the time lately. I know what it is to hunger, and I know what it is to hope against all odds. I have lived from day to day not knowing where my next meal will come from. I have eaten from trash cans. I have been homeless and destitute. Still, I have never starved, nor suffered from exposure beyond my body’s ability to bear in health. So here are a few words of hope and hunger for a better, more just world.

“I will Sing You a Dream”

Archetypal images
arising in my thoughts
dancing in my dreams
From whence do they come?
To what do they speak?
These answers I know
within myself
They are my own
they speak to me
Handed down
from my ancestors
from the dawn of man
and before there was time
The dream is speaking
It has it’s own language
speaks it’s own truth
follows it’s own design

These things I know
I cannot tell you how
or why
but if you take my hand
I will show you
I will sing you a dream
I will play the heartbeat on my drum
fill the shadows with my violin
paint the sky with my voice
I will fill the void with my flute
and raise the tide with sound of digiridoo

This dream I will paint for you
I will build a bridge for you
to walk across
between the worlds
as I am carried along
the dreamer and the dream
entwined as one
I will dream a path
as the path dreams me