It's nights like these that I long for the silence and serenity of a remote mountain campsite
where the bright light of the moon is the only light to guide me through the dark of night
The quiet stillness scares some, but it is one of the few things I truly long for.
The crisp night air stings my senses with the scent of evergreens and damp pine ridden earth.
Staying up late by an ever stoked fire, never letting it cease just to continue talking and stargazing then you come to realize it's 2am
Crawl into your tent and a cool sleeping bag, nestle in
wake up early with the sun beating on the nylon home you have for the next few days
Your nose stuffed of smoke and dirt
Hair smelling of campfire smoke
but you don't dare wash it for you enjoy the smell
You want to wear it as long as possible as if it were the perfect perfume
You never notice how little sleep you've gotten because the euphoria won't allow it, there's so much to do for the day
Hiking to find the perfect vista,
Finding your way thru the lens of your camera then realizing you don't know where you are
Caring not that you've lost your way because you have wonderful photos to bring you back to that moment once your back in confines of the wood & nail home you inevitably must return to
Stumbling upon the perfect swimming hole
Jumping in knowing that the next feeling is a gut wrenching splash and a quick swim to escape the temporary torture you chose to put your body through
Always worth it, so you do it again
Cursing the days end, then quickly it turns to praising the glory of the setting sun
Then setting up next to the fire to start the cycle allover again
The trip is never long enough so as soon as you leave you dream of your return
I can't wait to smell like fire and dirt!
If you don't like it, plug your nose.
I'm going to waft it closer to mine.
Ahhh I love it!
~*Amber*~
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Spilling out and spilling out and spilling out
But holding everything in, pulling in, sucking it all in and wrapping your body
in the curtain of what mismatched mish-mash you managed
to not create but collect and assemble
until it molds to you.
You. Never changing since birth when you were
a pure soft thing
Now, living in new places, addicted to change
keeping the body fresh and mind rustled alive
tickling your skull, tapping your shoulders, slapping your forearms
begging to not let the plague of others and follies
weigh you into that bubbling, sinking despair
....
if we can drag our bodies from the slick-sludged soup
and crawl, dripping, through the clouded woods
and up the ravine, into the fog
through the lost doom of not knowing
if we can brave out the trials just long enough,
I know there will be that clarity, when we reach the peak
And look over the heavily shrouded mess
towards something in the distance..
There is freedom to be had, but we have to get away from each other
People will eat us alive along the way, condemn us as
pathetic pilgrims on a pointless journey
calling us out in plain hate, but have eaten only plain hate
and never tasted the colors of a fresh and brand new Life
They that warn us time and again,
are too trapped and weak to pull apart the jaws
of their own shackles
...
They that we love
who then betray,
I have yet to understand.
There's something inexplicable here; betrayal is the worst of human hurt.
who must do the most grievance: betrayer or betrayee?
and how long does it take? a day or a lifetime?
Here's a story:
Somewhere there was a wolf, alone
On a mountaintop he howled to the moon
Somewhere else, more wolves heard the howl and also howled
further still their howls were heard, stretched across the hills
until more wolves howled, and more wolves howled, until
in a wide-open din of musical countryside discord
the foothills erupted in a collective wolf-howling extravaganza
under long-lit trees and dark & moonlit greens
all bristled, shook, and grew a little.
---
Then slowly the howls began to fade
and whole wolf groups dropped out
until there was one last pup left howling alone at nothing..
Right then he looked up, saw the moon for the first time in his life
and went silent
But holding everything in, pulling in, sucking it all in and wrapping your body
in the curtain of what mismatched mish-mash you managed
to not create but collect and assemble
until it molds to you.
You. Never changing since birth when you were
a pure soft thing
Now, living in new places, addicted to change
keeping the body fresh and mind rustled alive
tickling your skull, tapping your shoulders, slapping your forearms
begging to not let the plague of others and follies
weigh you into that bubbling, sinking despair
....
if we can drag our bodies from the slick-sludged soup
and crawl, dripping, through the clouded woods
and up the ravine, into the fog
through the lost doom of not knowing
if we can brave out the trials just long enough,
I know there will be that clarity, when we reach the peak
And look over the heavily shrouded mess
towards something in the distance..
There is freedom to be had, but we have to get away from each other
People will eat us alive along the way, condemn us as
pathetic pilgrims on a pointless journey
calling us out in plain hate, but have eaten only plain hate
and never tasted the colors of a fresh and brand new Life
They that warn us time and again,
are too trapped and weak to pull apart the jaws
of their own shackles
...
They that we love
who then betray,
I have yet to understand.
There's something inexplicable here; betrayal is the worst of human hurt.
who must do the most grievance: betrayer or betrayee?
and how long does it take? a day or a lifetime?
Here's a story:
Somewhere there was a wolf, alone
On a mountaintop he howled to the moon
Somewhere else, more wolves heard the howl and also howled
further still their howls were heard, stretched across the hills
until more wolves howled, and more wolves howled, until
in a wide-open din of musical countryside discord
the foothills erupted in a collective wolf-howling extravaganza
under long-lit trees and dark & moonlit greens
all bristled, shook, and grew a little.
---
Then slowly the howls began to fade
and whole wolf groups dropped out
until there was one last pup left howling alone at nothing..
Right then he looked up, saw the moon for the first time in his life
and went silent
Monday, July 4, 2011
Freedom
I wonder if the only free
in all the world are these:
a wretched, homeless beggar
and a rich man doing as he pleases
If twere so
then I would make it my lifelong pursuit
to all at once be living
homelessly, with wealth to boot
because the homeless laugh it off
and shameless, beg for change
and rich men also laugh for nothing's
there they cannot gain..
I wonder, if the world would end,
and they both stand by side,
might they exchange a wink or two
acknowledging what Humans hide:
that Freedom comes without a cost
it rests in all our palms
but with our dollars, freedom falls
between the cracks and then is gone
And Freedom has no place or time
it's we that dance around
its ever-sturdy semblance
frantically seeking a stable ground
Combine the two types, rich and poor,
into a single soul
and maybe he'll wink Freely too?
(if Freedom is his goal)
in all the world are these:
a wretched, homeless beggar
and a rich man doing as he pleases
If twere so
then I would make it my lifelong pursuit
to all at once be living
homelessly, with wealth to boot
because the homeless laugh it off
and shameless, beg for change
and rich men also laugh for nothing's
there they cannot gain..
I wonder, if the world would end,
and they both stand by side,
might they exchange a wink or two
acknowledging what Humans hide:
that Freedom comes without a cost
it rests in all our palms
but with our dollars, freedom falls
between the cracks and then is gone
And Freedom has no place or time
it's we that dance around
its ever-sturdy semblance
frantically seeking a stable ground
Combine the two types, rich and poor,
into a single soul
and maybe he'll wink Freely too?
(if Freedom is his goal)
my feet smell awful
it's because I made a movie all day.
But in that making I ran around underground for hours and sweat and sweat and worked and played my butt off. It's the time of your life, to act in a movie. You should try it sometime. It leaves you with bruises on your hip, cuts on your toes, a stomach ache an an inappropriate fear of Beagles, all in a day's work.
But it doesn't mean I don't wish I were cuddled up somewhere not here, wrapped around the love of my life with the sounds of the river lulling me into a peaceful night's sleep. The white stars fresh in the black summer sky. The smell of pine and dried river weeds, wetted by my loving heart.
But I have no choice yet. There's so many plans, so much "I'm gonna" that I feel uncomfortable. I feel pregnant with unsung adventure. The summer is looming so heavily, so close to my shoulders and spine, but I have to finish my underground sweaty escapade!
But still, the mountains and meadows call my name, year round but moreso now when I'm cooped up on an early July's latenight wishing I were roaming the country shirtless and but a pack to claim my livelihood.
But, nothing. She will see, that I am actually a wanderer and not some city boy destined for anything but the greatness and last hurrahs of nature's Pure Exquisite Freedom. I love her. So I will show her that I am forever a boy with a heart tied to the winds
of these young, restless peaks
the grand, archaic spires
the rushed, sweeping canyon rivers,
the crystal lakes,
brilliant stars,
iced mountain air,
tepid sweltering vultured valley,
ebbing, flowing oceans,
nighttime foggy wondrous Life
that keeps it all for me but spills the nothingness
everywhere and leaves me breathing..
breathing.. I want to breath with her
that's who I am, a child who
wants nothing more
than someone
to eat dinner with
this rant is uneditedly pleasant
I need to do this more often.
I'm in love with a girl
who has changed my life for the best.
The End.
But in that making I ran around underground for hours and sweat and sweat and worked and played my butt off. It's the time of your life, to act in a movie. You should try it sometime. It leaves you with bruises on your hip, cuts on your toes, a stomach ache an an inappropriate fear of Beagles, all in a day's work.
But it doesn't mean I don't wish I were cuddled up somewhere not here, wrapped around the love of my life with the sounds of the river lulling me into a peaceful night's sleep. The white stars fresh in the black summer sky. The smell of pine and dried river weeds, wetted by my loving heart.
But I have no choice yet. There's so many plans, so much "I'm gonna" that I feel uncomfortable. I feel pregnant with unsung adventure. The summer is looming so heavily, so close to my shoulders and spine, but I have to finish my underground sweaty escapade!
But still, the mountains and meadows call my name, year round but moreso now when I'm cooped up on an early July's latenight wishing I were roaming the country shirtless and but a pack to claim my livelihood.
But, nothing. She will see, that I am actually a wanderer and not some city boy destined for anything but the greatness and last hurrahs of nature's Pure Exquisite Freedom. I love her. So I will show her that I am forever a boy with a heart tied to the winds
of these young, restless peaks
the grand, archaic spires
the rushed, sweeping canyon rivers,
the crystal lakes,
brilliant stars,
iced mountain air,
tepid sweltering vultured valley,
ebbing, flowing oceans,
nighttime foggy wondrous Life
that keeps it all for me but spills the nothingness
everywhere and leaves me breathing..
breathing.. I want to breath with her
that's who I am, a child who
wants nothing more
than someone
to eat dinner with
this rant is uneditedly pleasant
I need to do this more often.
I'm in love with a girl
who has changed my life for the best.
The End.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
must have been dropped on my head
My imagination is killing me.
..all the places I could be going, things I could be doing, feelings I could be having, opportunities I might be missing, projects to make possible..
And then mistakes I could make, setups with dire results, ailments inside my body and brain, what it means when I'm alone, who's where doing what and why..
It's ALL inside my head. None of it is real.
I'm an expert at imagining my own death - to the point that I'm killing myself.
If only we knew the one truth all the time, if there is even one
that we could hang onto it and ride the waves of Life free and clear
without questioning, hoping, helplessly grabbing at possibilities
for fear of losing what we've only
Imagined to be what we want.
Then you find something real that is even better than what you've imagined,
so like a doe-eyed dog you stare in disbelief,
and let your imagination, again, take it all away.
..all the places I could be going, things I could be doing, feelings I could be having, opportunities I might be missing, projects to make possible..
And then mistakes I could make, setups with dire results, ailments inside my body and brain, what it means when I'm alone, who's where doing what and why..
It's ALL inside my head. None of it is real.
I'm an expert at imagining my own death - to the point that I'm killing myself.
If only we knew the one truth all the time, if there is even one
that we could hang onto it and ride the waves of Life free and clear
without questioning, hoping, helplessly grabbing at possibilities
for fear of losing what we've only
Imagined to be what we want.
Then you find something real that is even better than what you've imagined,
so like a doe-eyed dog you stare in disbelief,
and let your imagination, again, take it all away.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sunkissing & Daydreaming
Summer sunkissing in a
Swimsuit,
Sunglasses,
Chacos,
And a hammock...
Slowly, peacefully, drifting in a daydream where I'm cuddled close to you.
Our sunsoaked skin touching, shoulders kissing,
Our chacos coupled and feet crossed the same way.
Lying in the grass,
In the sun,
In the arms of my love.
Watching birds and butterflies
dancing in the sky
Flying freely
Telling us to do the same.
Two free spirits
mirroring each of the others every move
Soaring through life at great heights,
together.
You, me, and our Chacos... Lonesome no more.
This is what I dream of, the little things are the source of the greatest joys.
Soon my dreams will come true. Until then, I'll continue to use my imagination.
Swimsuit,
Sunglasses,
Chacos,
And a hammock...
Slowly, peacefully, drifting in a daydream where I'm cuddled close to you.
Our sunsoaked skin touching, shoulders kissing,
Our chacos coupled and feet crossed the same way.
Lying in the grass,
In the sun,
In the arms of my love.
Watching birds and butterflies
dancing in the sky
Flying freely
Telling us to do the same.
Two free spirits
mirroring each of the others every move
Soaring through life at great heights,
together.
You, me, and our Chacos... Lonesome no more.
This is what I dream of, the little things are the source of the greatest joys.
Soon my dreams will come true. Until then, I'll continue to use my imagination.
Californ-i-a
I just wanted to recognize that California is the single best place to spend a summer.
The sun shines,
but late in the day there's these tall shadows
and the beautiful mountain wind
rushes under your arms and through your hair..
Some people go to work
other people play by the river and jump off bridges
There's desert exploring, rock-hopping, beach running
(you kick at the waves by day
and shout to their rolling constants by night)
There's endless city venturing, art, strangers
mountain packing, where the crystal air stings your lungs
and waters your eyes and heart with fresh vitality
There's long drives, road trips, vistas, flatland
and so many places to see:
Mt Diablo Tahoe, San Francisco, Santa Cruz,
San Luis Obispo, Nevada City, Bridgeport, Bishop,
Sutter Creek, Mariposa, Quincy, Lassen, Almanor,
Mammoth, Yosemite, Sequoia
Lost Coast, Blue Lake, Clear Lake, Eureka,
all of Marin, Boulder Creek, Sonoma, epic Gold Country,
hidden bridges, waterfalls, ghost towns, shopping centers,
Los Angeles, celebrities, skyscrapers, humanity,
Joshua Tree, Palm Springs, Encinitas, San Diego,
oceans deserts mountains
rivers lakes and waterfalls
townships, tents, giant cities,
and everything so pretty -
I'll fill my cup always with gold and blue
California summertime, I absolutely love you.
ML
The sun shines,
but late in the day there's these tall shadows
and the beautiful mountain wind
rushes under your arms and through your hair..
Some people go to work
other people play by the river and jump off bridges
There's desert exploring, rock-hopping, beach running
(you kick at the waves by day
and shout to their rolling constants by night)
There's endless city venturing, art, strangers
mountain packing, where the crystal air stings your lungs
and waters your eyes and heart with fresh vitality
There's long drives, road trips, vistas, flatland
and so many places to see:
Mt Diablo Tahoe, San Francisco, Santa Cruz,
San Luis Obispo, Nevada City, Bridgeport, Bishop,
Sutter Creek, Mariposa, Quincy, Lassen, Almanor,
Mammoth, Yosemite, Sequoia
Lost Coast, Blue Lake, Clear Lake, Eureka,
all of Marin, Boulder Creek, Sonoma, epic Gold Country,
hidden bridges, waterfalls, ghost towns, shopping centers,
Los Angeles, celebrities, skyscrapers, humanity,
Joshua Tree, Palm Springs, Encinitas, San Diego,
oceans deserts mountains
rivers lakes and waterfalls
townships, tents, giant cities,
and everything so pretty -
I'll fill my cup always with gold and blue
California summertime, I absolutely love you.
ML
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