Living life on
autopilot,

Wishing I wasn’t
Going insane.

Look around me
And everything

Stays the same.

The neuropathways
In my brain

Have the wires
Crossed and
There’s

Messages that
Always change.

I’m left to
Figure it out
On my own,

Miscommunications and
Exiled from a
Place I used to call home.

I just don’t get why,
I keep trying to change,

But life pulls me to
The other side

To a place where
the stars never
had a chance to
shine.

Chapters in dust, olden days don'ts
we done on a whim from a song I never hear, but I think
that song is one
of those lies people pretend is true.

It's the glue, I'll be there,
and love you,
until the twelfth of never and make you feel included,
like you were one of those then,
listening to the cities on the radio,

insisting we don't listen to country,
no KAAA, local gay DJ, easy rock,
no, gimme KOMA fi'ty thousand watts,

rockin' top forty across the plains,
skipped up the staked plain and looped
plumb straight down in a radio metric chaos function,

ley line like, on the most ancient trail we know,
to the navel of the world, it went from there to Chaco,

-- sing any eliyaheyliyah hai hai awatha, tonka go on
you know, it's a cricket solo, such a time, your song

in the dream, you flew, you know you did, and did not fall,
but landed lightly on your feet, not the least bit,
curios as to why now… my feet walked that extra mile,

my time stretched by about that amount, on many given days.

Stay on the trail
We say
Don’t disturb the environment
We believe
Limiting our presence
is best

But is the trail truly separate from its surroundings?

Just for a moment
                                  leave the trail behind

Step on the grass
Settle into the dirt
Sink into the water
Feel the rock
The sand
The soil

Any of it
All of it

We are not confined to the trails
Not our influence
Nor our impact

We are not separated
Kept safe and apart
By the trails, roads, structures that we make

The illusion of our disconnection
From our ecosystems
                                        is
                                              dangerous

Allowing us to only play the role of
Savior with our absence
Destroyer with our presence

Both Savior and Destroyer are outsiders
Gods that act on the world
While remaining removed
Unaffected

We are not gods

We are
               players in all ecosystems
                       entrenched in all food webs
                               affected and affecting

Only by seeing ourselves in the picture
Neither problem nor solution
But part of all processes start to finish
Can we see what conservation truly is

Conservation of balance
Conservation of community
Conservation of self
                                      as part of the whole

Static equilibrium is not the goal
Our world has always been dynamic
Ever changing
Ever evolving

Each player in an ecosystem gives as well as takes
How do we give?
Can we balance our give and take
Find reciprocity
                               in each unique facet of our world

I believe we can
We must
We will

Imperfectly but with purpose
Through setbacks and leaps ahead

And I need you to believe it too

You’re six feet tall and more feet apart
from anyone you claim to be close to.
Struggling to breathe and a defunct heart,
in denial of prophecy; inevitably it came true.

You didn’t even pretend you ever cared for me,
we both know we’re not the ones you wanted to see.
If only you could realize what was important in life,
maybe you wouldn’t face the close in strife.
If only you could realize what this was all about,
maybe your funeral wouldn’t be cardboard cut outs.
In your last breath of air,
was there regret or despair?

It’s the ones that you don’t peg for depth
that seem to never be fully understood.
I’ve watched how easily they’ve wept,
and immediately reverted back to wood.

You didn’t even pretend you ever cared for me,
couldn’t care less; we’re supposed to be family.
If only you could realize what was important in life,
then you wouldn’t have replaced your kids and wife.
If only you could look back on all those years,
maybe you’d hold your kids instead of your beers.

No invite for dining with the dead,
no faking pleasantries unpleasantly.
Breaking promises along with the bread,
and never present even presently.
No invite for dining with the dead,
ignoring a mess while eating messily.
Smelling copper while tasting lead,
feeling separated both separately.

In your last breath of air,
did you notice we weren’t there?
In your last breath of air,
did you start to care?

No invite for dining with the dead,
no faking pleasantries unpleasantly.
Ignoring last call and ignoring bed,
my mental exhaustion is kicking in mentally.
No invite for dining with the dead,
ignoring a mess while eating messily.
The scene will remain within my head,
and my refusal to be desperate has grown desperately.

Feeling lonely,
You wish for friends in your life,
Forever working,
For what else to do.
But when an opportunity
For fellowship arises,
Feeling lost,
You shy away,
And reject it.
Oh sweet child,
How will you break this pattern
Of monotony,
And disconnection,
And isolation,
If you avoid the one thing you crave?

Time slipped away in the spring, in the muddy puddles and the rain, in the sweet-smelling flowers and the rain.
It rubbed circles into the small of my back,
whispered bittersweet apologies and tacked a sticky note to my corkboard.
“Remember to call.”
I forgot.

And I sit under the blooming tree
my bare feet soft against the grass

Time left me in the summer, in the sunny skies and the rain, in the sweltering heat and the rain.
It ran somewhere unknown, far, far, far away,
while I treaded chlorinated water and prayed that the fall would come sooner.
“You can call whenever.”
I didn’t.

And I sit beside the verdant tree
my bare feet ******* the pavement

Time was gone in the fall, in the whispered breeze and the rain, in the crinkling leaves and the rain.
But I had company in a glowing screen,
And as days turned to weeks turned to months I forgot about time altogether.
“Someone is calling.”
I hung up.

And I sit far from the dying tree
my bare feet resting on the couch

Time slept in the winter, in the miserable cold and the rain, in the blustery wind and the rain.
Numbers and names disavowed,
As “today” and “tomorrow” become “now” and “later”
“What is the word called?”
I don’t know.

And I cannot see the empty tree
my bare feet asleep on the carpet

Time has returned in the spring.
It looks me in the eyes,
profuse apologies pouring out from its lips.
“But you didn’t call.”
I blink. Didn’t I?

Gliding in my thoughts
Drawing lines of no belief
Stamps of words on me
Life does not seem so linear at all

Void in my thoughts
Vehemence of the violent voices
Rolling over my softness
Sharpness in a round room of life

Silence in my thoughts
Evaporated lines of tissue and devotion
Fragmented injury allot
An isolated point in the middle of life

An edge in my thoughts
Laying out the same unvaried harshness
Crying not in my name
Non-echoing affinity bouncing off my life

Pause in my thoughts
Shadows in frequencies of low and strong
Sing in parity with
Charm and wonder in disjointed arms of life

Restoration
Rebuilding
Reshaping

Filling in the fissures that have opened up
Between us
Within us

Fissures can become canyons
Sometimes suddenly
With a great roar of sound and cloud of dust
Sometimes gradually
Worn away by a river of neglect and dismissal

Both sides carry these fissures within
Wounds that can fester

How do we close these gaps?
Between us
Within us

First both must see
Acknowledge
Desire to heal

But there are no guarantees

Rebuilding relationships
Righting wrongs
Seeking and offering forgiveness

None of this can be done alone
Without community
In a vacuum

Sometimes the fissures become scars
Calcified and brittle
Painful when poked but otherwise unnoticed

The wound may heal over
But the fissure may never
Completely
Close