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The approach is fast,
The trickle slow.
Softly seeping down below.

A violent end.
A peace not past.
You, bending steel. Me, breaking glass.

What was dampened
Once, abruptly clears.
May fortune favour golden years.

A block of ice
Cannot endure.
At last, find footing firm and sure.

Now brilliant, shines
An endless sky.
Inspires distinction of truth from lie.

Elated! Joyful! Then dropped
A darkly veiled mask.
Ground is near, approaching fast.
This is around five years old, but still very relevant to me in so many ways. I think this is one that will never not be directly and contemporarily relevant to me. Perhaps one day the ground will stop approaching, but I’m not going to hold my breath on that.
Hard, fractal carapace
Protects

Soft underbelly

And cold blood filtered
Through a loving
Mammalian heart
pearls
are my favourite
of all my jewels.
the way they're made,
from scratching, slashing, ocean water splashing fuels
intricate transformation, done in no haste,
but time.
not one is the same,
just like my curls.
Inspired by the painting by a Dutch artist: Johannes Vermeer, novel and amovie - and of course, my pearls.
Is there anything more permanent ?
Is there anything more vain ?
For surely the word we call last
Will outlast all our attempts to change
I am wilted. I am weary.
I am weathered. I am worn.
I am stuffed with seeping sadness, and stewed in sticky, seething scorn.

I am deflated. Thoughts debunked.
And I am drowned in desperate dread.  
When I soak my roots in water, I find it dries them out instead.

I am wilted. I am weary.
I am wilted. I am worn.
This has many versions. This is the pillar.
Some days, I smile and I don’t know why,
Other days, I sit and just let time slide by.
Coffee gets cold, texts go unread,
Thoughts spinning circles inside my head.

Some days, I win little fights with my doubt,
Other days, I barely crawl out.
But I breathe, I try, I take one more stride
And that, for today, is enough on my side.
Shepherds
of echo  
sirens
that call
Masters
of legend
trapped
in the Fall

Moonlight
on ice fields
whispering
still
Voices
stay buried
destiny’s
will

Sunlight
awakens
mountains
that sigh
Hidden on
summits
new answers
there hide

But with
every Spring
a melting
ensues
Flowing
life’s message
recalled
— and renewed

(Memories Of Absaroka: May, 1997)
Don’t tell
me
what I
already know

Don’t give
me
what I
already have

Don’t take
me
where I’ve
already been

Don’t play
me
what I’ve
already heard

Dissuading
moments
when left
unbound

Preempt
the silence
a devil’s
sound

But deep
inside
satanic
winds

A Savior
whispers
beyond
— the din

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)
Be ready to say "goodbye"
When you have the guts to say "hello"
Interpolation of all the hello and goodbye poems
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