Storm


.
There was I time I thought of myself as “Stormchaser”. It was a label I assigned to offset the difficult times that seemed to follow me as a way of reversing the odds.

I saw myself as not only actively engaging those hard times but as pursuing them in a “if life is suffering and suffering brings enlightenment then, for fucks sack, bring it on” mentality.

I was wrong.

Man, was I wrong.

The hard times pursued like a predator on blood scent and I, tough as the wind, really was bleeding, profusely.

I’ve said before how I’m only now rubbing the sleep from my eyes, but I look back with these blurry eyes and see that young man and rather than think “whaddadouche”, my favorite quote when it comes to ignorance, I can say “good start.”

It really was.

Since then I’ve learned that Life is more often concerned with giving lessons than with leading me to them and that the path of life is much more flexible than I thought.

She is the train
I am the rail
Or more like the spike
Or the ground it’s driven into
Or maybe just a house it passes by
Sleeping

That’s my attempt at Zen poetry, which I’m okay with, in a Zen sort of way.

My point is this:

I have felt the storm.
I feel it now inside me.
I’m not sure it ever goes away.
I’m okay with that.

That, by the way, has nothing at all to do with either Zen philosophy or poetry, it’s who I am.

So right about now you’re probably asking yourself what the hell this post is about so I’ll sum it up in six words …

 

We find what we are looking for.

 

… okay, seven words.

 


 

Audio: “Stormchaser” by J M Greff

 

Something Lost

Something Lost

With one foot
Mostly
In front of the other
He shuffles
Back and forth
Left to right
Trying to follow
A boulevard
That keeps moving
Disappearing
One
Retracted
Step
At a time
His eyes
His mind
Blinded
By whatever poison
He has chosen
To end his life
I watch him a while
As he stumbles
Up the stairs
Of a nearby school
To empty his bladder
Then into traffic
Horns wailing
Cautioning
Cursing
He is seeking
Something
Something he has lost
I think
You won’t find it there
You won’t find it there
But I hope you do

—————————-

Image: “Anywhere you lay your head” by Bill S. 99

Captured

misty.veil

Arms out touching phantom limbs and ephemeral vine.
Closed eyes focused on aery chimera that plays like
faded film, enshrouding me in palpable memory like a mist.
August oaks and resurrection fern and aged buildings
replaced by towering cypress, snow wreath,
rhododendron tall as the homes lining these neglected streets
broken by root allowing the very least of natures
determination to reclaim, one minuscule stem, one straggling stalk,
one unnoticed flower at a time, its verdant refuge,
once sanctuary to boundless existence long since
consumed by distressed homes, distressed economies,
distressed people.

Not now. Not in this moment. In this moment I am alone in
ancient woods making my way along a secret trail
winding through prehistoric marsh fed by countless miles of
free flowing rivers giving life to this lush alluvium filled with
musky smells of decayed wood and stale water and something
sweetly familiar I can’t put a name to.

If you saw me there, on that canted sidewalk, you might think
I was mad or lost or wandering under the influence of
something other than my imagination. If you looked
closer you would see a smile. If you noticed me at all.

More likely you would pass by without second glance
accelerating to whatever urgent appointment or function or task you
scurry to. “Nevermind the crazy man”, mother says to
daughter, ears stopped with buds to obstruct the uninvited,
eyes adjusted to the screen of the tiny world she holds in her
hands while thumbs impulsively tap out affirmations or declarations or
insinuations with inherent indifference to a faceless complicant
selected as benefant, marginally amused at mother’s dumb
mouth, assigning words consistent with expectations in place
of those overridden by disapproved music. “Are you listening to me?”

Mother chatters voicelessly. A silent movie. A mime.
Daughter sneers. Fires a message of discontent into the void.
Co-conspirators.

You have missed far too much.
Where are you going
that you have no time to look?
To see.
What horizon are you fixed upon
that blinds you to miracles?
To live.
How can you occupy the same space
without sharing it?
To love.

I see you drive by as in a dream, intruder, trespasser to my vision.
Out of place and time. The vision is disrupted.
The winding path is replaced by
fractured concrete.
Smells of sacred land replaced by
exhaust fumes and humanity.
Rhododendron to azalea.
Snow wreath to palm.
Cypress to oak.
Marsh to asphalt.
The veil lifts.

The image remains.

Captured.


Image: “Misty Veil” by JMGreff

sb-donate-button

A kiss

With a promise
Of ecstasy
You press softly
Against my cheek
Your dewy nectar
Enchanted potion
Sweet and musky
Fills my senses
Drives me on
To higher pleasure
Fingers touch and probe
To unfold the petals of the flower
Revealed before me
A delicate treasure
Open and inviting
Whispering delight
In carnal sighs
Escaping parted lips
Honeyed tears flow
Urging me on
Demanding “More!”
Burning with desire
Our lips touch
Tiny sparks of living passion
Arc between us
To light the secret space
That only we can travel
This night is ours
You pull me tight
Then
With a shudder
You let go
The promise
But one of many
Fulfilled
The rest will follow


Picture taken at Bellingrath Gardens.

She makes notes

Annie.Spratt

 

She makes notes
To write her poems
To keep my story straight
I didn’t know I had a story
She pays attention
Wants to know it all
Shares in the gathering
She writes them in a shorthand
I can barely read
Recites them like a prayer
What I drink
Where I go
What I do
Nothing at all about who I know
Or where I’ve been
Or done
Only where and who I am now
She taps them out with her fingers
On my skin
Makes a rhythm with them
That she keeps while making love
With everything she does
In the morning she leaves them behind
They are hard to read
But their meaning is clear
I touch the pen she wrote with
The warmth of her remains
I trace the impressions in the paper
Like the lines in my palm
and find her there

 


 

Image by Annie Spratt

 

 

Fierce grace/fruitful darkness

 

I fear
one day
I will be swallowed by
the things that threaten
to annihilate
and obliterate
the man
I’ve worked so hard
not to be

that in accomplishing my
intentions
I will be left
only
with the mistakes I’ve made
along the way

that in attempting to
achieve
something I will never be
I will become
just a shell
filled with good intentions

that I will
through misdirection
mislead another
and make their life
worse
in my attempts
to make it better

that in attaining
by accident alone
all that I strive
to become
I will lose the chance
to reach higher
never becoming
all that I may ever be

and in that dark place
a place I’ve come to know
too well
I find solace
if I reach for it in faith
comfort
in the depths
a peace that envelops
with the utterance of
a single word
spoken with firm conviction
“Surrender”

I am
exactly
who I am
meant to be
exactly where
I’m supposed to be
going exactly where I need to be

I close my eyes and let go

all will be well


Video: “If I was a Warrior” by Trevor Hall

The Lovers

NightSky

We sit close in the grass
Embraced by Love
Watching the stars
Like a cosmic play
Performed by jealous gods
Impassioned goddesses
Myth and legend
Who feast on the sight
Of The Lovers below
So rare and welcome
To their ancient eyes
Our dancing fingers
Find the constellations
That bear our signs
Drawing a line between them
To see where we connect
Hands mingle and fingers tease
As you point to stars I strain to see
The warm breath of your laughter
Tickles my neck from behind
I turn to kiss
And we roll back into the wet grass
In a sweet entanglement
Of clothes and bodies
So eager to explore
To please
Yet we move with tempered passion
Heating the night air
Which joins our embrace
With welcome rain
A gift from the Divine
As we reach for Her shores
We escape our earthly form
And the stars fall away
In a swirl of light
Rearranging themselves
In a new constellation
Made in our image

 


 

Image is a quick edit I did from Stellarium