Posted on by EAT

rhythms

Another shorty from the journal markings I made while out on the Lost Coast Trail last month. This is also inspired by my two nights at Jackass Creek, which is where I was inspired to jot down the drafts for “True Nature” and “Glance”.

rhythms

the world is rhythm
  waves against tall gray bluffs
wind rising falling over hilltops
  crickets somewhere in the darkness
cicadas somewhere in thick green brush
  woodpeckers atop long dead pines
and deep beyond sight the song
  of robins calling back the sun

Posted on by EAT

strange disease

I normally don’t approach topics of this sort. But hopefully I can pass this off as a sort of pen-portrait and not as any sort of political commentary. I don’t actually know or understand enough to comment on American or World politics. But, regardless, this is the undeniable impression I get when I see Bush and certain members of his administration up in front of the microphones.

strange disease

your face looks somehow
    slack

        not with age but some
    strange disease

            your tongue slithers in and out
        slicking greasy lies
                like rancid butter
    across rows of microphones

your cheeks spill out
    over insect jaws that work
            mindless as mandibles
        on flickering teleprompts

            your eyes are toxic
    squalid little pools of terror leaking
        shivers from soft busy glows
sea to noxious sea

            your ears have rotted gray
                    deaf as battleship decks
    slack as the torn and tattered flag
        silenced behind you

            your voice is the sound of gravel
    shoveled from the backs of trucks
        with dirt and lime into
long shallow graves

            your hands grope out trembling
        as if overcome by pressure
tapped from ancient soils long ago decayed
                    to putrid pools of loss

                and your head swells grotesque
    to bursting from your dark black suit
        pumped with agendas too fetid
                for the heart to endure

Posted on by EAT

“He loves me.”

As I got to know my future wife long distance, I found myself wanting to assure her that my love for and dedication to her will never change.

“He loves me.”

This poem has been published in my book an inkling hope: select poems, available in Kindle and paperback formats. Out of consideration for those who have purchased a copy, I have removed it from this post and online viewing in general.
Posted on by EAT

True Nature

This one was scribbled out as I sat atop a giant bit of driftwood watching the waves during a recent hike on the Lost Coast Trail in Northern California’s Sinkyone Wilderness State Park.

True Nature

This poem has been published in my book an inkling hope: select poems, available in Kindle and paperback formats. Out of consideration for those who have purchased a copy, I have removed it from this post and online viewing in general. However, the above player can still be used to listen to it.
Posted on by EAT

Glance

When I go backpacking, I tend to my bring my journal along, or at least a little composition book. Here I’ll record any thoughts I have, or poem fragments. I should do this more often, since it affords me an opportunity to really sit with my thoughts, undistracted. Later I’ll go through the poem fragments and see about expanding them into actual poems (though I’m told a poem fragment is usually itself a poem).

Of the five or so recorded during my recent eight day walk, this one feels the most complete.

Glance

This poem has been published in my book an inkling hope: select poems, available in Kindle and paperback formats. Out of consideration for those who have purchased a copy, I have removed it from this post and online viewing in general. However, the above player can still be used to listen to it.