"bushwhack" poems
poets often write about running
carefree
through prairies
as if it is romantic.
they don’t know the itch
the ***** of thick grass
the **** of goldenrod
the sting of thistle.
they haven’t hoisted one moist rubber-clad leg
waist-high
over the other
again and
again and
again
waterproof yet sweating
just to move ten feet.
they haven’t picked seeds from sticky skin
as the fields give way to marsh
grass to cattails
reeds to rushes.
they haven’t bobbed
and balanced
up and
down and
up
on floating mats
of dead, sewn stalks
walking on water
a minefield of bog slime.
i haven’t stopped watching my steps
since i got that job
and i think i’m due for a misstep.
i’m looking to stop scratching
to stop picking
to stop bobbing.
i’m looking for a darling weak spot
strong enough to swallow me
in this swamp.
i would bushwhack to her
through the pricking
the prodding
and the stinging
put the wrong foot forward
plunge through the mat
and let her pour over the tops of my waders
and sink me
deeper and
deeper and
too deep.
i would drown in her.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
take an F250 down a dusty bush road
& it will create
a new universe of dust.
let a bald eagle lead you
as you island hop
in an aluminum outboard.
bushwhack out to a lake in cougar country
& teach all the pike you catch about
the 4 noble truths.
Jun 13, 2011
Jun 13, 2011 at 9:54 PM UTC
it is not the tier of enmeshed leaves
nor the zither of green. none is their duty
to discover the lunar hook of moon.
— the old bamboo is the mistral
danseuse tonight.
whatever the etcetera
of it, whatever the birds demand from it.
a sling of breath is far-flung into the sky
announcing merriment before the child
beheads the tulip,
before the creature chokes the pistil,
before the light enters slow-churn
of synthesis.
hearing the giggling of bush in
the mire of wind, heaving in all kinds
of sleep, the children, the weather,
together; synapses drunk in translation
and we feel no longer the secret
of a guerrilla behind the foliage.
it is only the heraldry of the world
when the morning unclips its wing,
as monsoons continue their bushwhack
amongst petty citations.
past oceans gleaming and
away from hills dreaming — by the
river, dead of heart, riveting silence
of land, past the battered bridge in Marilao tracing deathlier waters,
all gone in recall, something
i scour to find only pining away from
scarcity of remember. it is never their
duty to bring back its image
to dance with me again.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 9:04 AM UTC
from path
to trail
to road
to highway,
the loneliest of all
is the bushwhack.
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 7:12 PM UTC
An expression.
Something I can put my mind on like
a thumb print for the world to see.
It’s a way of speaking without
having to worry about making sense,
or worrying if people understand me.
It’s completely limitless and under my--
control.
I can abuse it, address it, analyze it,
bend it, break it, bushwhack it,
create it, contort it, cultivate it,
destroy it, design it, disembowel it,
explore it, fabricate it, hijack it, hurl it,
love it, man-handle it, mold it, mutilate it,
scatter it, stretch it, strip it, synthesize it,
translate it, torture it, undress it,
and it will always ask me to come back.
It will always call to me asking for more,
telling me to express myself.
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 8:39 AM UTC
I promise things were looking up
The return was the cherry on top
No more half assed conversations
No more forced legislations
Things were finally going back to the way they were
You know the cupcake stage without the saboteur
The late night connections
The spark with no reflections
My heart's saying he's finally back
But my mind would always bushwhack
Lying in state of overthinking and assuming
But always it's reality that's consuming
Guess it's true people change
But when they change with their surroundings it's awfully strange
Back at square one
The feelings like a submachine gun
The hope is lost again
No use in making amends
It's obvious your not on his mind when he's there
Come to think of it it's not ******* fair
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC