Outside in the cold dark
The first snow begins to fall,
Another sign of Winter’s mark.

Starting slowly, gathering speed
As the crescent moon rises
The dark-white storm will not recede.

Silently
Falling
Single-file
Ensuring
The descent
Is worthwhile.

Wave after cold wave
The onslaught of these sub-zero flakes
Sends warmth to the grave.

Or, rather, it is the lack of love,
That warmth, which causes snow
To fall so great from up above.

Then the gusty winds rush in
Launching the powder with a howling whine,
Cutting through coats, right to the skin.

Hours later, as the falling stops
And the wind dies down
Snow sloughs off in audible plops.

Off rooftops, trees
And fences, too,
A radiant white hue.

Woe is the day
When that fallen snow melts
Turning January into May.

For despite all the signs
Of new beginnings, my soul
Remains dark while all else shines.

And I wish, with the snow,
The memories of her would melt away
Along with
The pain she caused
So long ago.

Such a shame
Something so beautiful
Plays such a dangerous game.

It’s nothing, really, just a scratch
I’ll simply leave it be.
Oh look, it’s formed a little bump
It’s right here on my knee.

Oh crap, another, is this a rash?
It’s spreading ‘cross the skin
My hands feel like they’re cushioning
A thousand tiny pins.

And on my back there’s one to match
The large mark on my face.
How ever did I get myself
Into this painful place?

Then the bites, as one big batch
Began to turn and itch
“Enough!” I said, “I can’t stand it
These things hurt like a *****!”

Sadly, I realized there’s a catch
I cannot mess with those.
For if I do, they’ll multiply
Like sharp thorns on a rose.

I hear a buzz and I ******
A mosquito from the air.
I guess they knew in biting me
That I would really care.

Sitting in a hammock, facing the sky
Looking at the trees and watching birds fly
Wondering what I’m doing here.
But it doesn’t really help to ask why.

Fire in the day and fire at night
Getting drunk while the vervet monkeys fight.
We sit telling stories of old girlfriends
And how we were always right.

Bundled in our sweats, chilled by the cold
On these African nights with their icy hold.
Content and warm, I can’t help but shiver
From memories of old.

Breathing deeply beneath the sea
Moving around with the greatest of ease
Behold this amazing unnatural world
As natural as can be.

She laughs a sweet laugh as I turn around
Calling her name, I follow the sound.
And as my eyes land on the fire
She’s nowhere to be found.

Follow the elephants and the noise they make
As they thunder across the land we take
And when you gaze into their eyes
Your soul will snap awake.

We are just footprints in the sand
Barely an impression to the world at hand.
Where years of toil yield a half-inch of soil
In this unforgiving land.

And since the sand will wash away
There’s still an awful lot to say.
Another instant, the world moves on
Into another day.

And as I rest between these trees
Thinking of her, and home, and the seas,
Sputtering, gasping, the fire goes out
So now we all will freeze.

Once there was a circus man
Who lived with friends in Circus Land
They performed for people who’d smirk at them
Every single day.

But one day this tired circus man
Was done with living in Circus Land
Told his boss he was a **** and
Quit that very day.

And then that worn-out circus man
Became a full-fledged mountain man
Living the life he always wanted
To this very day.

See the mountains shrouded in mist,
These low lying clouds wanting to be kissed
By the unsettling beauties
Performing their duties
Trying not to be missed.

On those peaks rest blankets of snow
Covering more than clouds know
The roads must abide
On this mountainside
Like the rivers long ago.

And like a river, it splits down the way
Do I aim for the top so far away,
Or stay on the ground
With hardly a sound
Beside the trees and sway?

But of course, I’ll aim for the sky
Silky blue sheet where the heavens lie
I won’t stop and fail
Behind a hazy veil
And say I couldn’t even try.

On that winding path I follow
Finding people filled with sorrow
They had enough
When the going got tough
Wishing for a better tomorrow.

The troubled souls shed sadness to me
Despite the fact that I am free
Of dramatic woes,
Threatening foes,
And thoughts of things to be.

Trudging forward despite the pain
The mourning clouds reply with rain
But I mustn’t veer
From my goal, now so clear
For there is much to be gained.

Unable to see too far ahead
My mind fills with awe, not with dread
For life’s an adventure
And I’m in the center
Of a story yet to be read.

Every morning I hear them,
A shrieking pack of nomads
Announcing another day of searching.

They are never seen, but I know they’re close.
Like the wind, their echoing cries sway the pines and oaks
Surrounding my cabin.

Leave me be!
Every morning they cry out
Reminding me of their presence,
Something I’d rather not know
For they will likely wander forever.

Welcome to the land of golden trout

Where black bears roam and hawks still shout

In the eastern Sierras, hills of the west

Tales of the Adventurers and their first test.

Forming an alliance in Santa Cruz

They left together, unwilling to lose.

Packing up and heading down the trail

They knew as a team they would never fail.

Without a moment’s hesitation nor shred of doubt

The crew took their Tools of Tenacity out

And in less than three months flat

The Adventurers finished, exclaiming “that’s that!”


But who composes this mysterious crew?

Wait just one moment, I promise I’ll tell you.

First, there’s Nico the Noble, the leader so fearless

Who also frightens many when he’s not beardless;

Followed by Ben the Benevolent with his hearty laugh

And never without his Capitals hat;

Kahn the Courageous has his wild antics

Telling stories with Buckeye semantics;

Jamie the Just and her vegan ways

Had to eat lentils for most of her days;

See Jen the Jubilant with camera-in-hand

Shaving logs for as long as she can;

The team’s newest member, Maggie the Merciful,

Has now experienced the wilderness in full;

Tim the Wise lacks alliteration, unlike the others

But has chased many cows, some scraping their udders;

And at last there’s me, the Notable Narrator,

So our crew’s legacy can live forever.


In our quest the crew has changed slightly.

Those unable to handle the tasks lightly

Had left- like Mary, Bobby, and Stary the Skeptical

All well-admired, and mostly respectable.


Now let’s shift our story to the work completed

In the struggling meadow, its health near-depleted.

Using fallen trees that have long-since passed

We found a clearing with their numbers quite vast.

Cutting the deceased into sixteen-foot longs

And lugging them over thickets and bogs

Our team stacked them perpendicular

To the stream, or creek, in particular

And in a magician’s “ta-da!” moment

Water rose up to our new component,

Flowing over the freshly-made dam

Then briefly meeting with dirt and sand

At the bottom. Multiplied by thirty

And that was work: rigorous and *****.

But why were the Adventurers sent there,

To build check-dams and do repairs?

It was, in part, human consumption

That led to the meadow’s near-destruction:

America’s insatiable need for beef

Will not, for a long time, see any relief,

So Industry has pushed forward, sending cows to the fields

Grazing and growing to become our future meals.

But little did Industry know how devastating

Hundreds of cattle leave an ecosystem suffocating.

Trampling grass and dispersing banks underhoof

The bovine are easily guilty, there’s so much proof.

Stupid, noxious, and obnoxious creatures

Recognized by these, easily their best features.

Incessantly screaming day and night

They are more like demons by every right.

Yet the Forest Service lets ranchers send

Hundreds of cattle, seemingly without end.

And while the Golden Trout crew fixed things,

It’s not enough to ease the strain the cows will bring.


So what can we do, if anything at all

If we go veggie will Industry stall?

Can the end of beef save the earth

Is society only worried when we gain in girth?

That’s not for me to say right now

It’s up to you to answer the “how?”


But I digress, I must end the story

Of the Adventurers and their summer glories.

In the end they saved the meadow, saved the day

Held the bovine rampage at bay,

Raised water levels, erosion erased,

Then was the time to leave that place.

So the Adventurers hopped in their van,

Eight warriors mean, lean, and tan,

And took off down the mountainside

To Santa Cruz and the oceanside.

Each followed one’s own path

But only after taking many baths.

The Golden Trout legacy will live forever,

Only made possible by the best crew ever.

I’m home again.

Endless waves crash and tumble
Making my stress and worries crumble.
The ocean here has more stability
Than even the Garden of Eden’s tranquility.
I lay on the sandy shoreline
Inhaling the sweet sea scent, filled with brine.
And hear the waves crashing on the beach,
Ending their journey from a far-too distant reach.
An assembly line of crests and currents
Advance to this side by no odd occurrence.
This is their purpose on this beautiful Earth:
Results of past events create their berth.

My life rides these waves,
Affected by miracles and mistakes.
But I have yet to reach the shore;
A massive ocean still awaits.

A restless night for me once again
Every waking moment wishing for the end
Head pounding relentlessly
Craving sleep uneffortlessly
Why do you think less of me
When you see my bloodshot eyes?

What’s that I see in the distance?
Giving a second glance
Pale yellow haze peeks behind black
The sun’s first rays must surely be shy
For they’re taking their time crossing the sky
My weary body gives in quite fast
Finding Sweet repose at long last!

And when the visions come flooding in
I dream of sorrow and the darkness within.

Eye dilated, ears roaring
Senses soaring
I wake.

A restless night for me once again
Head pounding relentlessly
Craving sleep uneffortlessly.

Welcome to the Land of Upside-Down
Where sad faces smile and happy ones frown.
Place your coat on the floor and shoes on the rack,
Enter my home and don’t ever come back.
Stand up on the chair and sit on the table,
Only four legs, but it’s still unstable.
Problems arise from nothing at all
With a chance of answers being very small.
Everything is good when in fact it’s all wrong
And you hide it, pretending to be strong.
Your face tells the truth while your words deceive
Causing more pain than you’d like to believe.
Sitting on that table, your silence tells me everything
Knowing the truth makes your conveyance forever sting.
While you make sense in your confused state-of-mind
Your issues feed on my clarity and become intertwined.
So remain on that shaky table as I leave the room
This lively lying home is now your lowly loathing tomb.
As you knowingly forget your atrocious crimes
Remember in this land I see them a thousand times.
And I will remain here, snared by your ******* traps,
Even when the world passes on, here t’will never collapse.
Welcome to the Land of Upside-Down
Where hope lives in despair as wishful dreams drown.

Say one thing and mean another,
Lies and secrets start to smother.
See every angle and hear every word
Without ever being where it occurred.
Emotions soon become confused and clouded
By everyone’s views condensed and crowded.
The solution so easy yet the problem so tough
Those involved will never call the bluff.
Hearts will be broken and friendships lost
The truth is withheld, but at what cost?
So escape and be true, while you still can
To when life was clear, before the lies began.

September 1, 2009
©MDC

Months fly by, the seasons go
Springs into summer, fall leads to snow.
Dreadful hot Junes melt blizzard-filled Decembers,
While April and Autumn are hardly remember’d.

Times when trees begin to blossom,
Those with Frisbees start to toss ‘em.
When school lets out and the students cheer,
Forgetting the halfway point is here.
And when the leaves turn red and gold
Couples huddle to keep from the cold.
At last, when the first snowfall blankets the ground
We see the year has finally gone ‘round.

So the next time you have a dull moment
Do this, it will make you content:
Stop everything and look outside,
See what the world can do and provide.
And savor these moments for any reason,
Whether you’re sad, or in a different season.

A smile is such a mixed display
Of honesty and deceit.
Even the keenest are led astray
When that smile isn’t sweet.

With that smile a façade is built
Hiding one’s wants and true emotions.
A pearly white mask of fear and guilt
Outshines the truth with hollow notions.

But there lies the occasional shine,
Tearing down the walls and blockades.
Joy resounds from your soul to mine,
Hope flows from your grin in cascades.

Carry that flash of pleasantness and guile
And, to all, let it grow and accrue.
For when I bore witness to your loving smile
My heart leapt and I knew it was true.

April 19, 2009
©MDC

The forest is waking.

Pines and cedars
are greener than ever
while the oaks blossom.

Robins and blackbirds
chirp in earnest
scouring the leaf litter for hiding invertebrates.

The air’s stillness is swept away
by a gentle breeze, cooling my skin
heated by the sun.

Other than that,
there is only silence,
a good silence,
a slowly-rousing-from-winter silence.
It’s beautiful.

Those majestic immovable mountains
As mesmerizing as the prettiest fountains.
No. More so, I know so
Standing here on the highest plateau.
The sky depicts a deep dark hue of blue,
A hue that can make all stress subdue’d.
The air somehow heavier, harder to breathe,
As if God Himself forced my lungs to seethe.
The higher I climbed, the more it burned,
Til the top I reached, and rested, well-earned.
How blue the sky is! I would say,
No wonder they come here to sit and pray.
So close to Heaven, I wonder in awe
If They can see my each and every flaw.
Like a speck on a microscope slide,
I felt Eyes moving with my every stride.
I laughed; what else could I do?
Facing those mountains, refusing to move,
Making their stand, their point to prove.
Stretching far beyond my scope of sight,
These fearless peaks displayed their might.
It was me versus God, no one else there.
I was all alone in the cold thin air.
Now is the time to ask, I thought,
Of all the questions and answers I sought.
I glared at the heavens and began to vent
On why things happened, and what they meant.
And on the mysteries of life, time, and space
Why some people are good, while others disgrace.
Can there be no right in a wrong-filled world,
Where hope is dying, withered, and curled?

O why must Your will be done?
When I have fallen,
  Is that when You’ve won?
Why do You listen, and help me not?
Do You watch me in silence,
  Or have You just forgot?

Nothing.

I waited for something, an answer, a sign,
Something amazing, something divine.
My yells were turned into echoing spears
Of anger, frustration, and fading tears.
So this is my answer, I mused, understanding.
My life unto you I will be handing.
For I am to walk this earth alone
Soul ever pining for one like my own.
My greatest desire caught in the wind
Carrying my hopes, now chagrined.
But here the mountains will not tire,
They will forever rise higher and higher.
Making their point, remaining unshaken
Here their honor will not be taken.
At last, I shuffled down the gentle *****
Clinging to one last, final, hope.

A gentle breeze brushed against my cheek,
Could something this subtle be what I seek?
I thought of my family and friends who care,
The ones who have stories and memories to share:
Speeding on the highway with the windows down
Yelling with the radio from town to town.
Dancing ‘round cones on a dark-lit stage,
And making money at minimum wage.
Of awkward hawks and dynasties,
And engines failing overseas.
Discussing life, women, and the mind,
And how one so insightful can be so blind.

An epiphany occurred right then and there,
That I wasn’t alone; I shouldn’t despair.
And that ever-gentle breeze picked up once again
Aiding my trek down the gentle terrain.
The mountains continue their looming presence
But for now they don’t seem as intense.
As I set foot onto solid, flat ground
I realized I was lost, and now I’ve been found.

Stare into those large, dark eyes,
Overwhelmed with pain
And beneath this little boy’s guise
His nightmares remain.

Sitting at the lone desk, broken and ancient,
He colors a vibrant picture gray
Pausing for a moment, as if spent,
He sobs and wails while the others play.

Children laughing and running,
Their happiness spread to me.
But the poor boy was shunning
All their love, care, and glee.

But in those eyes I see hope in disarray,
  Not a child.
Piecing it together, he looked away
  When I smiled.

As I watch the storyteller tell
She twirls beside me.
Hair wrapped around her fingers so tightly.
Stops, relaxes, then weaves it again.
I doubt I’ll see this come to an end.
Does it resemble her mind,
Ensnared by troubles
As trivial or complex as they may be.
O rue the day you twirl too much, my dear,
As we listen to the old man’s stories
Or your worries will get the best of you,
Whatever it is you fear.

Cold
Unforgiving winds
Cut my face
As I gaze across the mountainside
Accompanied by multitude of stars
Despite the clouds’ attempts
To cover the magnificent.

Wondering, worrying.
Round and round they run through my head
Faster than dendrites and axons scurrying
Millions of thoughts on a single thread
Yet all the same.

Asking, analyzing.
So much to do, but with plenty of time
That it’s all wasted and forgotten.
When there was no rush, all’s in its prime
I double-check.  

Running, repeating.
Alas, the world will not stop and wait
For such a cautious one as I.
Waste a moment and it will be gone
Want a second back, it can’t be withdrawn.