In Wine There Is Wisdom

Many believe spending time alone in thought, being introverted and analytical, is not only detrimental to society, but honestly uncomfortable to tolerate in most situations. Those loners who ponder far too deeply those seemingly ambiguous or unimportant observations, the ones who will draw the unwilling party animal into a philosophical conversation on the nature of wolf domestication and the eventual terrier that resulted, and whether or not this alteration of a species raises moral questions. That odd-ball who lurks quietly for hours before erupting in impassioned tirades about anything from melting ice caps to military sonar, is the one I mean.

Those people are precious to me when I encounter them, no matter how obscure or seemingly obsessed -In fact the more insistent and incongruous the better. Tesla, Galileo, Newton, Hook, Van Gogh, Poe, Arendt,Chomsky, Spinoza, Brezsney and so many others throughout time have stepped outside the well-heeled views of common perception to question and probe the very foundations of civilization, and in so doing, revealed truths great and small, both subtle and shattering. It is for this very reason that the insubordinate insurrectionists and idiosyncratic imbeciles were not wiped from our collective gene pool millenia ago.

Those who believe this universe is neatly ordered and logical are either ignorant or delusional. The closer one looks at the complexities of life and the so called “laws” that govern reality, the more disordered, illogical, and chaotic things become. String theory is a great example of this, however even that wild idea is losing ground to an even more left field hypothesis on the nature of (as Douglas Adams would say) life, the universe, and everything, which scientists are referring to as E8. I will include a link for any fellow nerds who want to go down that rabbit hole.

My point is that sometimes those things that make you uncomfortable, challenge your world view, confront your consious, shake your earth, rattle your cage, push you outside the consiously constructed confines of catatonia are crucial to internalizing this imense intelligence intimately… A person must be brave enough to swim head long into ignorance if they truly seek to learn anything new worth writing down. It requires the willingness to miss the mark, admit wrong doing or false leads, to embrace all that is unknown with insatiable curiosity.

I respect those who color outside the lines, for they are the ones who teach us to paint wordless obscurities, or lead us off a cliff to fly or die. Wings given to us by lunatics or luminaries have uplifted humankind since the first fires were lit on the red soil of Africa. Some few things I have learned in this convoluted lifetime, and one thing I know for certain: I would rather follow the passionate yet wayward mystic into poverty, than walk the stainless steel road of a calculating and logical politician.

This world is more pliable than we are led to believe, but cannot be shaped like malleable clay, and those who try to propagate order like monocultured corn rows will poison the ground so wild things cannot flourish.

 

 

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Arise

Laying here saturated, wet with dew
As dawn lends your countenance a golden hue
In the mind’s eye glistens, a devious dream
As an animal in moonlight, they furtively gleam

Hunting, watchful, I am tasting the trail
Left by the passing of those who prevailed
Reaching for depths where others have drowned
Knowing it is in ignorance that knowledge is found

This universe is greater than one mind can hold
But I will grasp the stars if I learn to be bold
Fearlessness is for fools who don’t know of demons
Bravery is for the ones who face them with reason

My sword is a pen, my shield is a page
I will fight with love and never with rage
With a heart flayed open, eyes turned to the sky
One day my spirit will learn to fly

Rain On The Windows to My Soul

It is a long road, full of shadows and leaves glowing with golden sunlight
It is full of laughter that makes your eyes water, and tears that wet your cheeks and drown your inner voices
It is scattered with thorns and flower petals

She loves me, she loves me not…

Now the leaves of the oak tree will illustrate
How beautiful it can be to fall
From our own heights attained, we tumble
And in this way, we learn our lessons

Leaving only footprints in the groves, or ribbons in the boughs
We travel onward as a wind,
Who whispers in the meadow

Others pass us by like clouds
Bearing a welcome shade or a violent storm
We wear the marks of their passing in our blooms courted by bees
Or trampled with tempest
But always the world turns and the time will come
To risk it all in withering, sending forth our seeds
Seeking root elsewhere in those fertile soils
Of friends we have yet to meet

I Am A Rose With Many Thorns

Once, winter cut through me, despite my layers
Like a knife in my back that was undeserved
I bled on my long walk homeward, soiling the snow
Ice condensed on the toes of my boots, the ends of my long hair,
Swished and scratched across my collar
There was sorrow there, in darkness
Where I did not use my flashlight

I drank a few beers to distract from my distress, but still, that road was long and quiet
I would find myself speaking Shakespeare and Masefield into the darkness
Warding off bears and and other musk-scented demons from the shadows of my mind
With poetry…

With solace and metaphor

Yet still I was haunted with echoes, as if it were a ghost
And not the memory of those words that hounded me

My time here is limited, these lessons are sacred
Moments when Will becomes stronger than weeping

My own heartbeat, my own silence teaches more
Than any book I have ever read

HERE I am, in this moment of Aloha
I see how my path has led me to the sea
As I knew it would, for I am liquid…
Now I must learn to SEE with these new eyes
To be as open as the horizon that surrounds this island

I remember the lessons so dearly won
Never again will I give until my heart breaks with sadness
For one who enjoys being broken

The emotion that I am feels the tide, pushing me outward
Challenging the solidity of a grounded theory

I know the storm has just begun,
This blessing of rain
Must water me, even amidst the deluge
For I am the floods of Autumn, the cleansing destruction
Quenching those who thirst for that bare naked truth
Found only in the depths where sharks are swimming
This is my Power, I am a river, and sometimes it is difficult to see the current
Before it rips away your careless footing
And it’s ass over teakettle into the flow

I may talk too much but I never speak lightly
So believe me when I say;
I cannot lift you up if you won’t take my hand
I will never be your crutch or carry your weight
I am walking the path of my own making, leave your judgement at the door or don’t come in

Now go blaze your own trail into the ominous night
Search among your shadows for a glimmer of light
Make friends with the ever present fear and desire
Until you burn with your own inner wisdom and fire

For-H

Hey There Sister

Where to? I ask you
Anticipating not ever, the words were true

Yet despite circumstances, your own inner ache
Never did you attempt to be shallow or fake

To be aware of your faults makes your message hit deeply
The flavor of your words I hold close, they keep me

Remembering, to look further afield
To never forget the power I wield

In the stroke of my pen, in my moderation of thought
Such perspective our unique confluence has wrought

Aloha for being just who you are
Uniquely shining in your constellation of scars

You have given me the space to find my way
As well as the illustrative words to say

I appreciate the person you have chosen to be, And remain blessed to bask in the shade of your tree

 
To my Soul Sister
C

#me too

My response to the movement happening. I’m not on twitter or Facebook or any other media outlet other than this blog so… this is what I have to offer

Not a sob story but a reminder that woman have been fighting this quietly for a long while, and Ani just… says things honestly

So here

Backyard Reflections

IMG_0679Back yard reflections

Of a squirrel’s scolding

Or the painted crown moldings

My hands and knees black with earth

 

Wages paid in callouses

Long stretches of back road

Poetry, my heavy load

Each step a drum- beat rhythm

 

Alone, I was a mountain

Beaten by the wind

Growing thicker skin

Storm dancing, in solitude

 

Those are the moments that make you

With heart wide open, wanting

At all the world’s beauty flaunting

Leaping from your own peaks, to soar

 

A good place to learn your power

When silence begs introspection

Noting the fractal, the inflection

Teaching your ears to see and your eyes to paint

 

Yet I shall never return

To valleys of red cedar and pine

That passive state of mind

I would rather be a Tiger, than a Rose

 

 

 

*this was my view on the back porch today, and the reflections of the Lilly and the sky shimmering slightly with the wind made me… reflective.

I wrote this about my childhood in the Cascade Mountains of Washington