“We’ve engineered the world for comfort and ease. Most people rarely step outside of their comfort zones these days—we’re living progressively soft, sterile, temperature-controlled, overfed, under-challenged, safety-netted lives1. And it’s slowly limiting the degree to which we experience our, as the poet Mary Oliver put it, “one wild and precious life.””
Michael Easter, Substack

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five months have expired
from when this notion
1st caught my notice
but fallow lay,
unattended, unremarked
unforgiving

of my ignorance and inattention

but it freshly, rightly,
core challenges me

guilty of the underbelly softness
so well described,
I
choose to scribe,
wrestle with angel and devil,
two~on~one human,
and yet, still a
fair fight

"wild and precious!"

how rarely we employ these
adjectives,
that conjure the edginess of an
existence

lest you think,
that we are here to implore, urge,
skydiving, remote wilderness trekking, or other physical states
that set adrenaline on fire,
I am not
afterthat for them

oh, my
wild and precious
is far more treacherous and enthralling

what I beg you to embrace is
no farther than
nubs, knobs and stubbled nibs of your fingers,
the taste buds flowering invisible
on the wily, twisty tongue,
the  tiny-vibrating little hairs of your nostril,
two extra large  eggy pupils of your two eyes,
here lies danger,
your customized throbbing throbbing your drumming,
leadings
access to the garden of
The truly wild and precious,

the poems you will scribe,
from the safety of your captains chair,,
Throwing caution to the wind compose and depose yourself with bitter questioning,
For which the answered answers must be truly be
wild and precious

  cyan sighs,
oaken cries,
furious colorless invasive tears,
steely stabbing personal truths,

yes those wild ones,
in your. chest close held,
spill them like cold coffee,
surrender the precious, and
inward confess your
shame, gains  and the relit
that you are not merely
wild and precious
but a sea borne sailor,
a navy voyaging to
to where
danger enthralls
enlivens!

Constantly
chasing
a
high
that
no
longer
feels
good

Do you want to see the sunrise over the sky
Like tangerine orange splashed against a sea of peach and lilac?
Well I know a place where we can watch the moon flirt with the daylight
Just take my hand, and I’ll guide you through a wonderland

Where we can see the stars,
Bloom from the verdant stems
Pink and white spread wide,
And we can touch the petals of its points
Feel the dew drops hydrate your fingertips
Once we go through the thick of this

Watch the peonies open their bloom
Fluffy maroon and white beds for bees
As they sit so beautifully,
Ants resting on the eaves of leaves
Pleased by their workmanship to please
Eager eyes in your gasping maw
So surprised, to see this in awe
Well I surmise, you’ll love the way that the colors gleam.

Here where dahlias dance
To the very brisk of a morning breeze
Perfect symmetry blossomed in telemetry
We can count the layers, lost in a labyrinth
Amazed by the scent carried by a zephyr
Ticking the senses, and yet there’s more to the journey
As hydrangeas in blue and pink flourish,
Bush cover for arboreal critters,
Grasping seed and nuts to scurry off into the umbra.

But nothing brings me clarity
Nothing screams sincerity
Quite like the tea leaf rarity,
Of the conclave of peach colors swirling
Timeless in a capsule of a lover’s first gift
A painted, watercolor masterpiece,
Pink layers over yellow, and white,
Shades of coral and purple highlight the light
It’s in this decadence I could eat the petals
And in recompense maybe I’ll bloom as pretty too
As we end our morning glory
Under the thorn-capped bushel
Of roses, ala peach swirls.

It took a beard
Of bees,
To bring me
On my knees

Many stings,
To hear the
Bells ring

The honey of love
To soothe
The pain.

arresting
imprisoning
releasing

repeat cycle and rinse
convince yourself
everything will be
as everything should be,
then
lock yourself in
sit on it
and spin.

someone told me I can't be broken because we were never we.
you were never mine,
I was never yours.

I payed so much attention to what we could be
over what we were,
and now we're nothing.

its like we never laughed together
played together
sang together
or just simply sat together.

we had a together but we were never together.
we had something but now we're nothing.
we were never we.

I hurt.
not because the pain of your absence,
but the pain of what could have been.

The matter said to the math,
I change,
and so do you.

As the ego said to the spirit,
My will shapes your tint,
I control,
You obey.

Anatman?
No self?

No,
Self,
Is supreme.

Nix,
The demon buddha,
Of Naraka.

When the Assura,
Ascended over virtue,
By virtue,
Of existing.

Reality is not light and transcendent,
It is vile ugly truth,
I am I?

Well,
Certainly not me.

Best way to think outside a box
Is to be inside it

Not a special box
Just box wiht no gaps
no windows
no light
The perfect box


Cuz the one, who is truly blind
Is the only, one who’s canvas is not blinded, from outside light

Therapy never works
Freeversing is cathartic
And better than screaming into the abyss
If someone can relate and feel less alone to what I express/write
Then I too feel less alone
More understood
Instead of misunderstood
For a change
If that makes sense

There's no love
And there's no hate
But what is left for me to feel
Is too complicated to calculate
Impossible to translate
In this present state
A mind entwined
A jumbled mess
Shrouded in a new darkness
Nights turn sleepless
As I become a man possessed
By the hopeless

©2025

The sun lingers today
Not rushing off  not in a hurry to fall behind the hills
It pauses
as if the sky is holding its breath
And we feel it too
Something still Something ancient
The light stretches longer than it should
casting soft gold on things we almost forgot to notice
the curve of a leaf
the quiet rhythm of our own pulse
a bird crossing the silence like a thought we hadnt had yet
People gather or dont
Some light fires, some sit alone.
But all of us
somewhere in the quiet
feel the turning
Not a celebration, exactly
More like a recognition
That the world moves in circles
and sometimes
were lucky enough to feel the moment it shifts!

I mapped the stars,
named each light,
built a world
from a wish too bright.

But the sky turned grey,
and time moved on,
my perfect paths
already gone.