I am
my
own
best
bartender.
(whirr)
(whirr)
(whirr)
(whirr)

I’ve lived
my entire life
believing that
Home is building
A place where you
get creative with all
your  fancy decorations
your fancy candle chandelier lightings
A place where I can cook
all my fancy gourmet meals
While watching my big fancy television
A place with my fancy four car garages
where I can park my fancy toys
Enter , live  and lock my fancy twelve foot doors
As I spent all my fancy earnings
Then with a snap of my fingers
one morning I got wised up
I realized I was wrong the entire time
Those fancy things aren’t what
truly makes a home at all
I was wrong
I was broke wrong
Home is the space in between
your heart
Home is wherever I’m with you
Home is wherever love
resides , memories are created
like Instagram photos filling up your heart
And where laughter never ends.

There is this sacred place nearby
And few years past I acquired
A few acres from that sacred place
deep in the woods
Most would call the wilderness
but home to me
So magical of a place
my mind’s eyes disappearance...
Deep In abyss of the mountains
Peace and quiet exactly
What my soul needed
my spirit and heart at peace here
So whenever
peace tries to escape my mind
You could always
find me there, lurking there
Setting up my mind free
and just like a dream I belong
So amazing and sacred
even the greatest artist
could never captured its allure
Perfect place
for a poetic mind to dwell
The sounds of wind blowing
the birds singing
and
the wonderful
sounds of the river caressing
the Rocky Mountains
so peacefully restfully soothing
put my trouble mind at ease...
The Rocky Mountains stone
truly a sacred place to  me
nothing but love
what a place of ecstasy
strikingly when night falls
being way off the grid
In the endless darkness of night
lightning bugs Lanterns my paths
away from the restless tango
of the bright lights
city noises  
and a venue divided by loathing
Here in abyss of the mountains
I am at one with nature
enjoying all God’s creatures
Scrutinizing the wild tango and crawling in
the thickest bushy mountain
while relaxing my back
on my grass quilt
at the Same time cooling my feet
In the creek near the fire
a seeing flare
to keep my soul warm
and with no other care in mind
I allow my mind soul to roam free
In the sacred garden of ecstasy
to escape the here and now
No doubt such beauty
of a place can restore a mental calm
when my feet are on fire
faith cracks peace is no more
and nowhere else to run
Here by the red rock creek
my wilderness Momma
is where I’ll doze.

Call me mad
nevertheless
I truly believe a life  
Without poetry
Would be a poorer life
A less happy life
an artless life  
A life without color
A life without tongue
no sounds to be heard
A life empty
of any real meaning