I, Wild

The time has come to Wild once more.

Can you too hear your soul's faint cry?

A whisper, a rustle, a crack, WHOOSH!

Our stories must not be solely written in this world's empty caverns of abandoned dreams

Forward! Yield not as you swiftly pass by the desert mirages of false promises.

Let us reach as the pines reach for the starry skies of hope and inspiration 

Howl with me as the wolf howls in protest of life's responsibilities! 

Roam as the black bear roams in demonstration of our freedom!

Better to drown in wild river torrents than the gentle brook of society's daily monotony

Better to feel the weight of Yosemite's granite walls then to compress under the tonnage of normalcy.

Yes, yes, heed the call and join me this weekend in the Great Eastern Sierras.

For we, for I, Wild.

The Monster

There’s a monster inside of me

That’s growing nightly

Stirring, spilling, winding

Looking but never finding

He sends a text

So you won’t move on to the next

Only to pick a fight

And to have one more night

Forgiveness is not in his vocab

He retreats once more into his lab

Stirring, spilling, winding

Looking but never finding

Until the monster wearies

With the realization you aren’t near me

If only the monster inside me

Could see just as clearly

As me

Here w'ego

You missed the point and you lost yourself

It’s your over valued sense of self

Too bad you think money buys class

It’s just fake tits and a lifted a$$

You missed the point and you lost yourself

It’s your over valued sense of self

Busy looking at the world around

Catering to your friends, all those hounds

You missed the point and you lost yourself

It’s your over valued sense of self

To not be seen is your biggest fear

Keeps you from bringin’ anyone near

You missed the point and you lost yourself

It’s your over valued sense of self

I can’t believe all you do is moan

Yip yap this and that,  you’ll die alone

The Journey

The Journey

Have you considered that the end of a journey brings more uncertainty than the journey itself?

The beginning of a journey, fresh and full of potential, is clear as crystal.

Planning is easy, motivation isn't faked, and high spirits come easy.

The middle of the a journey brings the onset of trials, the necessity for ambition and belief in oneself.

The end of a journey requires reflection and acceptance. 

Why is it that youthful blind motivation has more vigor and positivity then the accomplished elder who has proven his worth and capacity again and again? Shouldn't it be the opposite?

Peace Abroad

There are two places I'm most at peace

When I'm singularly positioned on my parents couch

In the home that I was raised

And the other is when I'm spread across the world

In what can be described only as foreign

Foreign soil brings me peace of mind

My heightened awareness abroad

Helps to vacate the focus of life's turmoil

Wanderlust is a drug

And I can't get enough

Mortality

Tomorrow, Dad says isn't guaranteed

Why are there so many people in need?

Grandma showing signs of stroke

Is this some kind of joke?

Manager Leo with stage 4 cancer

How come there's no answer?

We've all won and we've all lost

Many nights we have tossed

Now I'm three decades passed

'n with all that I've amassed

I know that I can say

That upon the day

I'll die having lived

Having lived means having loved

'n having been loved means you've helped others live

Those fortunate to have a family

Should savor life before a tragedy

Lest we not forget what dad says

We're not guaranteed tomorrow

So put away the sorrow

Once more renew your smile 

We get to walk another mile

Remembering what dad said all the while

What we didn't say

There's an agony

Easily a tragedy

That words we express

Have limits which inhibits

Our ability to share

What's under the skin we wear

Both fair and unfair

Past experiences that we desire

To conspire but not mire

Could you walk miles in my shoes

See beyond the miles whose

Only wish is to unveil

The soul that wants to sail

Away with you

Love- a sensory quandary

Malady or melody?

Dream or delusion?

Men too often blinded by beauty sublime

Women impervious to the smell of sound body, soul, and mind

Deaf to such a ringing sound can we be?

See those who seek, find

And those who reflect, rewind

Peace is to know thyself

Love is to know another as thyself

One is two and two are one

Three is too many

Yet one can be none

Like I said, a quandary

Haiku from London

Haiku

Pitter patter wisp

Scuttle quack, trickle and flow

A day on the Heath

Inspirational Quatrain

The fight is near, the bell tow'r rings

The fight is here, the fear it stings

Expend the effort, pay the price

Once dues paid, the reward is thrice