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"portage" poems
The sky is painted a pale orange and blue I'm just out there thinking of you No way, no how to ever break through But with a paddle in hand you know that's untrue A wannigan, a duffle, a heavy deluth An impenetrable vessel, a wood canvas canoe Unexplored nature, a spirit renewed All with friends, an unstoppable crew No need to run, no need to prove Rise with the sun, incredible views There's always a portage, skeg on the boots But who can stop walking our unfenced zoo We do what we do, there to feel, be, and move
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 2:59 PM UTC
Canoe Tripping
I am up Awake Before the sun It's arrival Heralded by Colors creeping Out against The retreating night sky Do not mistake me For a morning person I do not relish this Nor do I mourn For sleep lost It could be   found But this is necessary Not without joy Not without sacrifice Without a word It simply is A ride My Fortress of Solitude For a mind Besieged By thought At war with Itself Do not retreat Into the past A ruthless place A heckling pace That tells you You cannot Hang on Give no portage To fate For you cannot grasp What the future holds Just Keep moving Focus This ride It is the only ride That matters I wrap myself In its tight fabric It's sounds Clicking and clacking Racing thoughts Shifting Centrifugal forces Sifting As I order Myself Ride As long as I pedal I am Present
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Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 6:49 AM UTC
Dawn patrol
#***Blackwater rise up from artesian fountains Upsurge from the provenance of earthen soul Mingle unto a river of willow’s bend and sway Rooted in boulders***                                                           *scattered  within                                  milestones                                                   and*                                                                 ***riverbed Cornerstones                                                                                           Gray As though empowering sown seeds mightily strewn With intent a higher law's freshet flows For to stream from silence in a satiating tongue Rolling currents thickly bestow A  river  of  simple  truth lay  bare A stream of random kindness betides, Rivulets of unconditional love abounding    Rootstock birthplace coursing passage from whence Unbounded rivers' silent reverie manifests Rippling cadence immersing pulsing whispers Unbounded rivers rushing deep and wide Blossoming undercurrents gushing, resounding, rhythmic  ebb  and  flow Verve undulating wholly alive Genesis of soul marrow's enlightened shine ― Wellsprings arise from bedrock ancient mother earth A surmounting light leavens abidingly From imploring water's flowing river song To illuminate the beckoning pathway's bearings divergent from thither and yon                  Through  which  to  portage A way to carry back home in psalm*** h.a. rivers ... November 4th, 2017
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Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
Blackwater River
#***Blackwater rise up from artesian fountains Upsurge from the provenance of earthen soul Mingle unto a river of willow’s bend and sway Rooted in boulders***                                                           *scattered  within                                  milestones                                                   and*                                                                 ***riverbed Cornerstones                                                                                           Gray As though empowering sown seeds mightily strewn With intent a higher law's freshet flows For to stream from silence in a satiating tongue Rolling currents thickly bestow A  river  of  simple  truth lay  bare A stream of random kindness betides, Rivulets of unconditional love abounding    Rootstock birthplace coursing passage from whence Unbounded rivers' silent reverie manifests Rippling cadence immersing pulsing whispers Unbounded rivers rushing deep and wide Blossoming undercurrents gushing, resounding, rhythmic  ebb  and  flow Verve undulating wholly alive Genesis of soul marrow's enlightened shine ― Wellsprings arise from bedrock ancient mother earth A surmounting light leavens abidingly From imploring water's flowing river song To illuminate the beckoning pathway's bearings divergent from thither and yon                  Through  which  to  portage A way to carry back home in psalm*** h.a. rivers ... November 4th, 2017
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34
trolling through midnight streets braking to avert inflicted pedestrians crawling to and from pedestrian afflictions I hope become fares I am the vehicle to next destinations the portage to an evenings ravenous end Music Selection: Ides of March Vehicle 10/15/14 Oakland jbm
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC
vehicle
Silver ribbon Assiniboine a sash for a city--a Ceinture Fléchée tied into the Red just off Highway 1           You leak into the topsoil            in the place you call home           and come back up a street map           with fingerprint roads I remember the way you'd trace these out on my back with fingertip pencils--cartographer's hands-- Bird's Hill and Lag' and Portage and Corydon      laid 'em down in my veins      just under my skin Where are you tonight, in your smiling Great City? Crossing the bridge and inhaling the skyline? Or walking the river in my iced over thoughts? Maybe walking, mid-tempo, around KP mall? Those hipsters in Osborne Village           and Wolsely had nothing on us, did they?                     Cooler than Main                               on the 1st of the year I trickled away                     and I leaked into topsoil enjambed between rhymes in apology poems. An Irish Goodbye; a blip on the radar stopped flashing to fade off the map of your streets. Our voices still echo, our spectres still haunt Dollaramas and sidewalks, Tim Horton's and pubs Our hands still lace up--at least so in theory Perimeter Highway's still traced on my back.           Here's hoping our avenues           meet again soon.           Here's hoping that luck can outrun shortcomings           one more time.
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
Canadian Shield, Irish Goodbyes
Silver ribbon Assiniboine a sash for a city--a Ceinture Fléchée tied into the Red just off Highway 1           You leak into the topsoil            in the place you call home           and come back up a street map           with fingerprint roads I remember the way you'd trace these out on my back with fingertip pencils--cartographer's hands-- Bird's Hill and Lag' and Portage and Corydon      laid 'em down in my veins      just under my skin Where are you tonight, in your smiling Great City? Crossing the bridge and inhaling the skyline? Or walking the river in my iced over thoughts? Maybe walking, mid-tempo, around KP mall? Those hipsters in Osborne Village           and Wolsely had nothing on us, did they?                     Cooler than Main                               on the 1st of the year I trickled away                     and I leaked into topsoil enjambed between rhymes in apology poems. An Irish Goodbye; a blip on the radar stopped flashing to fade off the map of your streets. Our voices still echo, our spectres still haunt Dollaramas and sidewalks, Tim Horton's and pubs Our hands still lace up--at least so in theory Perimeter Highway's still traced on my back.           Here's hoping our avenues           meet again soon.           Here's hoping that luck can outrun shortcomings           one more time.
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34
Can you settle for more or less if today was your last day And what would be your retort if you were denied another chance? How life introduces sobriety and the impending inevitability The interstice and it’s ingress that encloses before your eyes The demanding pouring of importune time That soothing allaying sighs that evoke incalculable alleviation If someone were to impart as they closed their eyes As they died with a commital of happenings with not enough time As to burden you with the impression of only one chance It would seem and with the impending inevitability Of your death which would subito compromise the day A bearding contrivance plight of obligations engagement and commital no alleviation An abecedarian dossier concealed for a long time All this time the inevitable coinciding incident only for your eyes The emotional habituation was of quotidian rendition each day Of how trivial things take us on a dance with only one life one chance With your attention and awareness on the answer the inevitability Of what you are becoming with each passing second for each Thought which transpires and no alleviation Is there an epoch a replicating limn a depiction of our linear time As we perpetrate and pursue progressively for our alleviation Engaged to staying the course the day Stirring closing in on our deliberate objective determined chance Which remained for a terse duration from the inevitability In which at the atrium of this erstwhile portage of a duvet to belabor To stifle firsthand with your eyes The variant from this domicile from this residence on a day Is the vagabond to perish in yonder with no alleviation Once man was a brute dullard or a curmudgeon spinster at a time Which offers a mute disconnection ragged miscreant the inevi Naivety or absent mindedness to somnambulist and its silhouette Notwithstanding change The quagmire and it’s nightmare the ingrate delighted with coined Shunned eyes Reputation with a flagrant obscene defilement galvanizing The alleviation At the heart of this lies another chance A precocious inevitability A man who lies to die another day The annihilation in desperate want for from those argent eyes To the starving newfangled optimism which in its sheen Shines sunshine dulling the ocular orbs of time Forwithal in befuddlement remain here The time if infringement to comprehend the volatile vertigo And the inevitability The harrowing of hell Glance at the shinning suns in her eyes intention considers change After you heal and left are the cicatrix Will you plunge further for alleviation Or on the intent of regression once again From long ago to another distant day.
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 9:20 PM UTC
Destination
Can you settle for more or less if today was your last day And what would be your retort if you were denied another chance? How life introduces sobriety and the impending inevitability The interstice and it’s ingress that encloses before your eyes The demanding pouring of importune time That soothing allaying sighs that evoke incalculable alleviation If someone were to impart as they closed their eyes As they died with a commital of happenings with not enough time As to burden you with the impression of only one chance It would seem and with the impending inevitability Of your death which would subito compromise the day A bearding contrivance plight of obligations engagement and commital no alleviation An abecedarian dossier concealed for a long time All this time the inevitable coinciding incident only for your eyes The emotional habituation was of quotidian rendition each day Of how trivial things take us on a dance with only one life one chance With your attention and awareness on the answer the inevitability Of what you are becoming with each passing second for each Thought which transpires and no alleviation Is there an epoch a replicating limn a depiction of our linear time As we perpetrate and pursue progressively for our alleviation Engaged to staying the course the day Stirring closing in on our deliberate objective determined chance Which remained for a terse duration from the inevitability In which at the atrium of this erstwhile portage of a duvet to belabor To stifle firsthand with your eyes The variant from this domicile from this residence on a day Is the vagabond to perish in yonder with no alleviation Once man was a brute dullard or a curmudgeon spinster at a time Which offers a mute disconnection ragged miscreant the inevi Naivety or absent mindedness to somnambulist and its silhouette Notwithstanding change The quagmire and it’s nightmare the ingrate delighted with coined Shunned eyes Reputation with a flagrant obscene defilement galvanizing The alleviation At the heart of this lies another chance A precocious inevitability A man who lies to die another day The annihilation in desperate want for from those argent eyes To the starving newfangled optimism which in its sheen Shines sunshine dulling the ocular orbs of time Forwithal in befuddlement remain here The time if infringement to comprehend the volatile vertigo And the inevitability The harrowing of hell Glance at the shinning suns in her eyes intention considers change After you heal and left are the cicatrix Will you plunge further for alleviation Or on the intent of regression once again From long ago to another distant day.
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51
with apologies to WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE (from Henry V, spoken by King Henry) Once more to the table, dear friends, once more; Or close up our hungry mouths with supermarket staples. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of hunger blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Cut fine the sinews, simmer up the blood, Disguise cheaper meats with hard-favour'd sage; Then lend the stirring spoon a terrible aspect; Let pry through the portage of the foccacia bread Like the brass cannon; let the garlic o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled onion O'erhang and jutty his confounded  tomato base, Swill'd with a wild and wasteful Cabernet Savignon. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. Whose ragu is fet from Nonna's fail proof recipe! Nonna's that, like so many  Stephanie Alexanders, Have in these parts from morn till even, baked And brewed their sauces  and stews, for lack of argument: Dishonour not your mothers; now attest... That those whom you call'd mothers did feed you well Be copy now to men of larger appetites And teach them how to eat. And you, good yeoman, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your belt; let us swear That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; For there is none of you so hungry, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
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Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
Feast
with apologies to WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE (from Henry V, spoken by King Henry) Once more to the table, dear friends, once more; Or close up our hungry mouths with supermarket staples. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of hunger blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Cut fine the sinews, simmer up the blood, Disguise cheaper meats with hard-favour'd sage; Then lend the stirring spoon a terrible aspect; Let pry through the portage of the foccacia bread Like the brass cannon; let the garlic o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled onion O'erhang and jutty his confounded  tomato base, Swill'd with a wild and wasteful Cabernet Savignon. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. Whose ragu is fet from Nonna's fail proof recipe! Nonna's that, like so many  Stephanie Alexanders, Have in these parts from morn till even, baked And brewed their sauces  and stews, for lack of argument: Dishonour not your mothers; now attest... That those whom you call'd mothers did feed you well Be copy now to men of larger appetites And teach them how to eat. And you, good yeoman, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your belt; let us swear That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; For there is none of you so hungry, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
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37
An aged man is but a paltry thing, Bones awake groaning. Sing the body decrepit. Don't moan, Agonize! Neurons snap, crackle, plop. Locate head. Try to find shoes. Dreams dismissed. Day bleeds into sameness. Relentless boredom. Tread the doomed bog of Old with attentions. ***** traps. Each step the future. Abandon all dope. Mortality worm gnaws. Denentiasand ***** Tumorgators lurk. Snappers break hips. EDacondas slither. Limply. Lungconstrictors hide in tar. Gasp. Peer through blurry eyes. Portage cataracts. Slow streams drip. Lust peters out. Prostate yourself. Up becomes down. Flexile. Shelf life gets shorter. Discard after. Only expiration Dates. So what if life is ebbing. Reality is an unhappy meal. Ignore. Be a clueless American. Slap on a big grin. No fears! Pretend to enjoy the swamp of these Golden Years.
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Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 7:48 AM UTC
Waking to Swamp
Blades of grass Slice like swords Up the mountain towards Divinity and Portage Pass. Ripples make The water's mirror Obscured but clearer Is my mind at Gold Cord Lake. Sailing towards The deepest blue Where nature's hue Harmonizes in Kenai Fjords. The mountains wield Their crown with pride, And skies abide The reign of the Harding Ice Field. The sky is dark But a giant looms And light assumes It's silhouette in Denali Park.
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Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
My favorite places, Alaska
awaken love in me gently. fallible. spontaneous. alive. laying beneath the sense of each word is the armistice of mind versus heart of body versus stillness of sound versus silence of distance versus proximities. this long-winded gasp of breath holding on to gravitas keeping things in their designations. or this desperate hum of quietude yearning to be noticed, concealed in immense portage flowing to be bequeathed to cupped hands and touch a face callow. mild. tender. like water falling again and again in repetitions memorized - permitting desire to utter plainly rendering love's easy, breakable structures.
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Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
Awaken Love In Me