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 Mar 2021
Traveler
A Shaman
Was a collector of relics
And little trinkets of gold
He blessed them with charms
Of wonder
As the story goes...
He collected and placed them
On candlelit shelves
Deep in the chambers
Of The Temple Of Self
Then he left and went on a journey
Hoping the gold would be there
On his retuning...

He didn’t fair as well
In his travels of the new lands
In a cavern of dirt he dug in deep
With a guide of retribution and confusion
He knew this place was incomplete.

And so here
In the silence of our prayers
Once again we become aware
......
Traveler 🧳 Tim
 Mar 2021
Verity Lane
Dear Wild Girl,
Inviting me to dance
In the light of your fire
And emerald
And sea:

Welcome to the drop
After indulgence
And enthrallment.

Welcome to the realness
Of daylight.

Until the next twilight
And escape.
When your tide.
rolls through us
In its time
Again.

Blink your eyes
As they adjust
To earth
As it is.

Solid and stable,
Boring,
Predictable,
Painful,
And true.

Welcome to the mundane
Roots and facts.

Because I know
It open-armed
welcomes you.
 Mar 2021
Caroline Shank
Move it on over little dawg.  
I jump freight trains now.  
I sleep where i want.  
And I gnaw the souls of
better men than you

are.

I don't hear you anymore.
I write my own songs
and I wave away your
charmless melodies

alone.

I hum as I hear the
music of another

lover.

Move it on over
little dawg, the
big dawg moved
right

in.


Caroline Shank
 Feb 2021
nivek
within your voice a Sun rises
silence is a red dwarf dreaming
across surreal skies of violet

I see the unfolding Universe
in the breath of a nights song
rising with the dawn chorus.
 Feb 2021
The outsider Rebel
Maze of life
Does not describe
How this reality plays

We live or die
Bonded to the destiny
Take me, beauty of soul

Another dread begins
Can you save me?

Or just a masquerade
To show me
The beauty of a rebellion
 Feb 2021
Don Bouchard
My brother is a pilot,
Not just any old pilot...
A tail dragger pilot,
Champions
Cubs,
Super Cubs.

Planes made of spars and fabric,
Held tight
By screws
And dope,
And glue.

Airframes part wood,
Part aluminum,
Part steel.

Fuel tanks sloshing in the wings
Either side above our heads,

Set the mags,
Hand crank the prop,
Turn on the fuel,
Hear her pop
And roar to life.

We strap in
Single file,
Controls fore
And aft.
And rev 'er up
To join the winds.

Once up,
He yells, "She's yours!"
And I am piloting,
Or rather gingerly sliding her
About the blue,
Skidding right or left,
Holding my breath,
Wondering how much I dare
To tip her up there in the air.

"I've got the stick!"
He yells, and I let go.
"Don't be afraid to fly it!"
"It's just a machine!"
"Make it do what you want it to do!"

And we are diving toward the ground,
Then bringing her up and tilting 'round.

"Give her fuel when you tilt to turn!"
He demonstrates, and we are standing
On the wing,
Perpendicular and looking to our left and down.


I know he's right,
That I am timid in my flight,
And he is brave with years of joy,
A pilot fearless since he was a boy.

"You want to land?"
I hear him say.

"No, that's alright!"
"Not today!"

To prove how safe it is to fly,
He touches down,
Then bounces high,
And vaults us back into the sky.

We flit across the fields,
And then,
He flies beneath the power lines,
To show how spray planes catch the ends
Of fields.

He skies the plane at either end,
Then bee lines it to the badlands' edge
Where suddenly we are swooping down
Between the canyon walls, and sinking low,
Then, rising, turning to our right,
He sails us toward sun's dying light.
My only hope is that we will land
Before the night
Erases all our sight.

And sure enough,
The air is calm.
The night is coming on.
Gusting breezes are all gone.

We gently settle once again,
Back at the ranch,
And I help wheel her, then
Into her waiting hangar pen.

Life can be lived all in a panic.
Fear fills us with a lingering dread,
But we should live our lives.

Just like my brother said.
"It's just your life, so make it do
Whatever it is you want it to!
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