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it nears dusk

One of my favorite places ever is the Montgomery Woods, a state natural reserve of old growth redwoods about 30 miles west of Ukiah, California, where I used to live. This poem was drafted during a visit as I sat deep in the woods at the easternmost edge of the reserve. Reluctant to leave this special, tranquil place that I can now only visit rarely, I walked about a mile back to my car in the dark.

it nears dusk

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.
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Cherry Drifts

There are a handful of things that I always find myself looking forward to throughout the year. One is the budding of black oaks. I’ll go on walks and drives just to look at black oaks as their leaves bud and fan out, like little purple feathers at first, and before you know it a deep green canopy.

Another thing I look forward to are cherry blossoms. I was staying at my employer’s house in the hills west of south Reno when I wrote these. A month earlier I got to watch the cherry trees bloom in and around Ukiah, California. Then I got to see them bloom again in Reno, like clouds of light, as spring came to the higher elevations. Yet on the mountain where I was staying it still snowed some.

Such surroundings are bound to inspire the occasional proper haiku.

Cherry Drifts

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.
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Trail of Prayer

In 2009 I visited Bear Butte in South Dakota with my Filipina wife. We weren’t yet married, but we were soon to be. The hike took about three and a half hours, all told. It was the day after Summer Solstice, and something unique was in the air.

There are several stories behind the trip that led us to this special place, and a few specific to our experience at the butte itself. Perhaps they’ll find their way into poem someday. For now, here’s a tribute to the butte, what it means, and what it has meant for years untold.

Trail of Prayer

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.
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morning prayer

Every morning she prays her rosary. Although I am in no way religious, being present and in some way a part of the process can bring a certain peace to the moment and even a sense of hope to the day ahead.

morning prayer

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.
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Unrealized

I think the greatest tragedy one can experience is to become ever so slightly aware of his or her creative or professional potential, only to have any chance of ever achieving it ripped away. This has been my experience as a poet, and no other pain I’ve endured comes close to comparing. For me, to develop my potential as a poet requires the time and attention of a career profession, yet I am forced to work for a living, which leaves my creative potential sheered from the light and rotting in the soil.

Unrealized

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.

I have often contemplated suicide as the only way to escape the torment of knowing I have this potential to realize while not having the freedom to pursue it—For the quarter-measures afforded by the trifling free-time left at the end of a workweek are grossly insufficient. To live as potential unrealized because it has been made unattainable by the structure of society is in many ways worse than death itself.

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Contrast

My third synthetic ode. I would like to eventually find the time and energy to write more. The first two parts are structurally isometric while the last has a structure of its own. Parts I and II focus on opposites, in this case the female (yin) and male (yang) energies, respectively. Part III explores a synthesis of the two.

Thesis, antithesis, synthesis—Using purely depictive language. All synthetic odes are done this way. It’s a time consuming process.

Contrast

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.

I will at some point get around to writing an article on the synthetic ode, since I’m the only one who can explain it. It is my creation, after all. But first I want to write more such poems, so as to become completely clear about what elements of language and prosody must be present for a poem to be called by this name.

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summer solstice at Bear Tower

A few days ago I returned from a two week long road trip with my fiance. The apex of this journey took place at the Devils Tower (Bear Tower by some accounts) national monument in Wyoming, where we camped two nights. This place is sacred ground to many. Though I don’t personally think in terms of “sacred”, the place is special to me for reasons beyond my capacity to understand or express.

I’ve always felt a connection with traditional Amerindian ways of viewing the world, and with some aspects of their cultures. Perhaps my karma is such that this couldn’t be helped. I was born here on the soils of California, nourished on foods grown from the dust of their ancestors, and nurtured with waters that welled from and washed over these same sands. Every molecule in my body—and by extension my spirit—has manifest from these lands and from those who have returned to its soils. Inheritance is not just genes and culture—it is much more.

We don’t choose our inheritance; we are manifest from it. For some reason, I have always sensed something about that from which my existence has manifested. In recent years I have begun to better understand this sense, and perhaps I’m also beginning to learn how to convey some of this understanding, using the medium I know best—Poetry.

summer solstice at Bear Tower

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.
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reality

The greatest tragedy I know is not being able to realize ones creative, academic, or professional potential after becoming aware that such potential exists. Not everyone is mentally and/or psychologically geared to survive in a cutthroat world while at the same time pursuing a creative interest. Most jobs demand a great deal of mental energy and psychological involvement to such a degree that there is no energy left at the end of the day for anything but recovery and recuperation. For such people, life ended long before the day they actually died.

reality

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.
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sunday morning

I am trying to learn what I’ve half forgotten, how to bring moments of thought—imaginary or reflective—to life through imagery in words. But with all the insights I’ve gained since before forgetting, I find now that I want to try out strange oblique angles.

sunday morning

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.

No, this isn’t about me, nor anyone I think I know. But it is about someone. It’s definitely about someone—somewhere.

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release

Type it up, give it a title, and send it off into the world—Hope it one day fares better than I have. “She” in this poem is inspiration. While she may not go into our dark places with us, she does wait for us—just outside —to realize we are already free.

release

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.
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Labor

As we got to know one another, she would sometimes tell me, “Each poem you write is like one of your children. Each one has a spirit and the potential to flourish.”

Needless to say, I married her.

Labor

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.