-
Poem – The Sky is Burning
The black sky of antiquity replaced by what we do not know what we fear. In the depths of thought do we remember the ancient rituals and sacrifice at the base of each tree, at the shoreline, at our fingertips? The burning sky approaches from the south, consuming what we do not know what we…
-
Poem – Where is the Path?
The burning city settles below the horizon as evening darkens trees and empty streets. ~ Lost into haze I let go and allow instincts to guide me through each day, unaware of each step and each mile that passes, I arrive and I leave this space. ~ I see black shadows across the ceiling, in…
-
Poem – Memories
Bundled, dressed, and prepared for winter and spring, the sun is sharp and clear, the air is charged and crisp. Walking between town homes with grey steel siding and dry cement driveways, our path is thick with snow, ice, overturned grass from machinery and footprints from dogs, people, and other creatures we only see after…
-
Changes are coming
As 2013 ages and January falls into February, I’ve decided to make some changes. When this blog first started it was with no real direction or goals beside focusing on writing and nature. The name The Wasteland Here is a take on T.S. Eliot and a social jab during hard socio-econimic times. As I am…
-
Poem – Ghosts of Adak
An island named Adak served the military, a distant outpost, aging, succumbing to the wind and the sea. Inhabited by people clinging to their past or starting over they share the land with Ghosts of Adak. Photo and information below from: http://a-great-small-big-world.blogspot.com/2011/08/cities-between-175-west-175-east.html Adak is the westernmost municipality in the United States and the southernmost city in…
-
And it begins
Starting the morning with General Tsing’s chicken and a Monster, December is here, and I can’t help thinking back on the past almost year, and the experiences. What will come from these, in the coming year? Were the experiences a healthy addition to my foundation? Were some them for the moment only, and I subconsciously…
-
Poem – Family
The months slip away – winter falls into spring summer slides into winter. September lays at our feet – and we bask in the smoke and mesquite from the bbq. Glasses and bottles raised – a toast to here and now and to Kyle over there. Later afternoon becomes evening and the precious time we…
-
Poem – Time
measured paces of swift moving feet across ocean sands. years pacing back and forth what am I waiting for? what passed through here first? in the time of no time what do we measure ourselves and forward progress against? what passes between moments? do music beats sound different? the sea crashes against shipwrecked fishing vessel,…
-
Lost Time?
Another work week comes to a close, and I realize the things I have missed lately, forgotten, and things waiting quietly on the night stand. The common phrase in these instances, besides just plain being busy, is that time flies. Of course, logically time flows at the same speed, at in the directions, no matter…
-
Return to a Previous Life
Where do passions and obsessions come from? And, do they feed or lead one into the other? One day I awoke with thoughts of prairies and open fields, stretching for miles, right into the setting sun casting burning red rays across the landscape. I was not sure where this came from, and why. Over time,…