It’s been only a few days… this is probably the 4th time this year that I’ve gone more than 2 days without a cigarette.
Ah, why do we love breathing fire? Because nicotine plays nice with the brain!
I’d like the thank the Santa Fe Natural Tobacco Company for its years of faithful service.
these boxes or packets
we call transitional
just kill me
all the missed moments
of peace and of purpose
the terrible effect
of going away or toward
fills me w/ loss
from the hours spent
chained to loss
and gain
driving the body
by way
of the brain
the make more,
spend less,
get sell buy oh yes
and my baby wanted blankets
and I wanted to wander
to let
my blissful distraction
empty my pockets
clarity
limited but strong
whirling in
the universe of my senses
the street is a
wet reflection
of the sky's morning cast
no sound crosses
the chasm
that is not born of
and returning to
silence
2008
Riding into a storm of arrows and blessings choosing the posture of courage and honesty driven by love to sing loudly with an open heart or to sit quietly following my breath with eyes wide open
Yeah! Finally a post! Okay?
So I’ve just made a bunch of edits to my website. I am not exactly certain the ultimate purpose, nor can I say with certainty that such purpose will endure. However, I can say that January’s ending approaches… as does Life’s. Nothing lasts.
I’m hanging around Oakland like a ghost. Meaning constellates then disperses. Each day is a new day. Nothing changes.
i'm not sure what to say and who to say it to is it unanimous or anonymous scurrilous or spurious do i claim my "blog" own it? or mask it 'neath some clever nom de screen what revolution? what truth? personal, local, global or universal... as i type and watch her move through poses of yoga in any infinity i inhale everything & nothing
I was about to go shower...
after my morning
yoga, toast, coffee & email
but then it started
rainin' heavy
and a
sunday mornin' in borneo
sound walls and rain walls
splatters and sheets and coconut leaves
and the ceiling fan spins faster
now that the air is cool
and i sip my coffee and think of home
and of bringin' you here.
when i look down at the bricks,
yeah its a mess
a struggle maker puddling up
then i look across the field
at the depth of green waving with the storm
through the rain screen
as if the background has come forward now
a slanting, tropical reminder
that we are mostly water
