"sequoias" poems
Stomped earth with broad feet
Fastening fresh saplings into
Whole forests
Eight feet by eight feet, the grid
Through winter month's
To early spring
Line of tree planters, twenty
Sometimes less, sometimes more
On Shasta, on Lassen, on Trinity Alps
Douglas Firs and Ponderosa Pines
In Mendocino, in Eureka
Planting baby giants, Redwoods
Sequoias in Sequoia National and Klamath
Young men with hoe-dads
Knew some old ones too
Women as well, though few
If you could bear the snow, the rain
If you could bear back-breaking pain
The glory is yours
As was once mine
Reforestation
Go plant your line
To be eternally in
Mother Nature's good graces
And kinship known by campfire
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
Cal-i-fornia (verb) the state of being golden.
Can you see the way the sand sparkles on the shore?
Golden shards of glass, or broken dreams.
Who possesses the Midas touch now?
The crushed gates of Atlantis on our shores.
Aphroditic bronze goddess of the sea,
Hair blown by the breeze.
Sea air & salty &
more than anyone could need, or was used to.
Giant sequoias stand
As mighty and proud protectors
Behemoths of lifetimes past.
Explosion of seeds inside
Fireworks waiting to explode
Pinecones, little grenades of life.
Ghost towns reminiscent of the Wild West
Mining camps from the Gold rush days.
Tumbleweeds & reptiles & powder fine dust.
Some say the earth is red from the natives’ blood spilt, and sunk in,
Reality – Oxidation turns iron in the dirt to rust.
So that’s why Mars is red.
After a bad storm in San Diego
Dollars lie broken & shattered on the shore
A bankruptcy of marine proportions!
Just go see for yourself,
The sand dollar apocalypse.
We were echinoderms too.
Life gone dormant, and violent beginnings.
As if Calliope’s harp needed to be retuned,
Sun god, Apollo & Helios with his chariot in the sky
When did we become so heliocentric?
Solitary white cross on the hill.
Never did anything to harm anyone, yet they fear you so
Enough to try to remove you from our presence.
Mount Soledad, or their SOLEs-are-DeAD.
- You know San Onofre is a power plant right?
- Radiation, is that a problem?
- Only if you want to have kids or stay cancer free.
- 25 foot sea wall -- To keep the waves out, or the kraken in?
- 4,000 tons of nuclear waste, who’s gonna get rid of that?
Ghostly tendrils of death
Blown fifty miles down the coast.
They call it SONGS, how quaint.
A symphony of catastrophe.
The greatest arias of death and destruction.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
I long for myself
and for those I love
and for those I lead
to be like the
wild sequoias.
Let our reach
be high and vertical.
Let our roots
be firm and intertwined.
Let us be
strategically planted
in deep reservoirs.
Let our bark
be thick and resilient.
Let our seeds
be released
and germinated
when the fire comes.
Yes, let us be
an enduring grove,
outliving difficult
seasons and enjoying
the plentiful.
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 2:13 PM UTC
rivers of salt; saccharine silicon and
iridescent nightmares;
kids carve their names into trees
because their concept of forever is
three summers forward;
entropy demands a tithe, a
forfeiture of lives; decimate your herds
and still
no, it is not enough.
know it is not enough.
don't keep your sweet little mouth
open too long; sugar attracts flies,
and pretty soon your
teeth will be teeming
with maggots and rot,
streptococcus sanguis
cheerfully wearing down your enamel
like you wore down my inhibitions.
"it'll be fun," you said, dropping
one hundred milligrams
on your tongue, firmly grasping the back
of my neck, and applying your lips to mine.
one hundred milligrams
slide down my throat, and despite myself,
I laugh, because even when I'm scared
I want to be with you.
the Black Angel is God On Earth; she is
lonely beyond belief, and I give her a hug.
people forget that monsters have
feelings too, and
God?
God is the biggest monster of them all.
God is entropy, and she is
unimpressed by the pyramids
on your dollar bills; she will devour
the stars and the planets and newborn
babies swaddled in blankets,
and she yet hungers:
redwoods and sequoias and aloe vera,
microchips and inkjets and MacBooks.
we are crowded around the bonfire,
s'mores and cheap liquor, your hand on
my thigh; the heavens have
opened up, drenching us
in starlight: I have never felt more
beautiful. you raise my wrist to your
mouth, placing a gentle kiss on my
scaphoid and my lunate; you swipe
your tongue across supple flesh
before clamping down with your teeth;
I am seeing stars and feeling lovely
and I am so, so enamored with you and
so, so happy you are here.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
i remember you
you wore your smile the way a traveler wears a pack
it was everything
your eyes were bright with adventure
glaciers tucked into the folds of the rockies
blue
i'm blue too
i thought i lost you
four years ago today
the phone rang like funeral bells
i answered like a murderer expecting to find a detective at the door
the hospital still makes me sick
i can't forget it
all of your friends who always seemed as strong as sequoias
strewn across the floor
faces painted with snot smears and tear stains
i thought i lost you
under sagging soil and a painted headstone
there in the pines above the river valley
laughter traded for the footsteps of the saddest parade
i tried to say goodbye
but i found you
there in your sisters smile
and in the movie theater aisle
and parked in a little rusty black truck in front of my parents house
i find you everywhere
while i giggle
and sing
and tell the people i love how much i do love them
you're there
doing the chicken dance behind the arresting officer
thanks for reminding me to smile
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 12:46 PM UTC
I hear you coming with every crack of the knees
The air of your reproach stifles my breathing
And still, you are ten years past
Your ghostly presence has not abated
For I am small and inconsequential in your memorial
A toadstool among the Sequoias
I see an incomplete light through the canopy
In this dim and musty forest
Where fern and Lady Slipper does not comfort
This will be my shame
Content and complacent with this situation
Afraid to cast off his manifestations
This will be my downfall
Death isn't the end
Memories doth prevail
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC
The hunter’s bullet lodges in my side
like the pin bones of salmon wedged
in the back of my throat.
My life balances on the border
between my favorite comfort foods,
and the blade of the taxidermist.
You would make me into a trophy,
gutted and cured to become an ornament,
in your seasonal hunting cabin.
Raw honeycomb, Caribou marrow,
salmon roe stuck to my tongue,
psalms of my home made flesh,
call me back into my survival
instincts for my sleeping children.
She who outruns deer & devours
strong bucks with antlers the size of sequoias
could not outrun the champion sprinter,
American made bullets.
But when you realize your rumpus
disturbed wild things, there is no time to reload.
You brought a potluck into the den
of a slumbering mother with cubs.
My teeth are agonizingly real
And my jaws are in your belly,
rooting for the lost rib of Adam.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 1:01 PM UTC
Arms stretched to breaking point
High as they can possibly reach
Even climbed this old oak
For a better vantage point
Still I'm too small in this ever growing world
Why do I try to reach for something I cannot obtain
Dreams are fantasies filled with useless attempts
Heaven is too far to reach
So why do I continue
On this pointless adventure
Climbing trees and mountains
Then climbing trees at the top of mountains
My reach will never come closer
I'm a pebble in this mountain of boulders
The sapling in this forest of sequoias
I'm reaching for nothing
Wishing it was something
And these shooting stars
Aren't hearing my wish
No matter how loud I get
I'm starring at constellations
Hoping to become one
Stretching my limbs
As high as they can go
Then even higher
Only to be taught a lesson
Heaven will always be too far for me to reach
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
Mountains, glaciers, redwoods alike
Hiking, running, going by bike
Shiver, stumble, gracefully aware
Wind, sand, snow in our hair
Stories, laughter, sadness take hold
Seeing, learning, making our mold
Life, happiness, too vital to deny
Quails, sequoias, untouchable skies
Shades of blue, green, colors surround
The Earth, spinning, not making a sound
Quiet, serene, clouds moving slow
Strong, silent, peace we would know
Unexplainable, these scenes make a person anew
Breathing in and out, these universal truths
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
In your slumber, I find you
wandering deciduous Dreamland forests
under a harvest moon
waiting for me to arrive.
Your chocolate eyes melt
when we embrace,
bubbling forth your soul--
molten lava,
cooling in briny blue oceans
to create new earth.
Upon it,
my green eyes lay lichen and
bury the seeds
we've fertilized,
so that they may
mature into sequoias
from our
Love,
forever present.
Oh, how they'll reminisce about
the worlds we've created.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
An obscene, sickly beautiful scene
Met me with a ***** sheen
It dulled the tightness in my chest:
The butterflies when I misstep.
Like the second-guessed ache of paranoia
that left me curled at the foot of the sequoias
waiting still and tense, for your voice to fade.
Never for a moment dropping my charade
as I paraded proudly back inside declaring
my true innocence; I found you unsparing.
You swallowed my word and I found you even
Requesting repetition, so you could believe in
the obvious lies leaking my lips,
and you know what they say: loose lips sink ships.
So when you come to grips,
I’ll still be installing microchips
Inside that open wound of yours.
While you’re hugging porcelain on all fours
I won’t be sympathizing with all the ******
Who leave their lipstick napkins on your lap;
Who fall into your egocentric death trap.
I was never one of those,
To be used and then disposed…
So while you’re trying so hard to make me jealous;
I’ll just tell you your method is overzealous.
You had your chance before;
You’ll have no chances anymore.
You can finally stop trying to request the help of cupid,
I promise you I only ever loved you young and stupid.
Jan 28, 2011
Jan 28, 2011 at 6:34 PM UTC
Bodies jostle toward the heatsource,
Foot stomp, elbowed in the rib,
Muttering voices hoarse, exhale mists
That swirl like deadmen's ashes in the wind.
Pale lumina saturates the cinder skies,
Under which the aged remember
The suns of former lives,
Their memories the glowing solitary embers
Of a world we've left behind.
Ahead, a mother veils her babe with rags
From a passer-by's ravenous gaze.
A man automatously drags
A rattle-bag of assorted human remains,
Leaving trails in the dirt,
Leaving trails in the dirt.
We have splintered apart the frame
Of this landscape of hellpain,
Against smokestack sequoias and asphalt seas,
We stumble toward the crematoria.
My God, the coldness hurts!
As upon the canvas of this frozen Earth
We enact the terminus of human innovation,
The burning of every breath,
The engineered suicide of civilization.
Out, out, brief candle,
said Macbeth.
Into the cull chamber I step,
Hoping there at least I will find warmth,
In death.
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 6:33 PM UTC
So sick of seeing pictures of all the places
I want to see with my own eyes
I want to see redwood sequoias, gentle giants
Utah mountains and pink African skies
But of all the memories I swear to myself that I will make
To feed the insatiable wanderlust of my soul
I want to share all the sights with you
Adventurous lover,
And I know my heart will be whole
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 12:22 PM UTC
You say i'll never be secure
I'll always be the one jealous of her.
I think she's just who you'd prefer.
You only see skin color. I'm pale and thinner.
Maybe if I was thicker, hair was longer,
You wouldn't long for her.
Or have me thinking im mediocre and crying all October.
I was hoping our memories would hold you over.
It's my birthday, no reason to stay sober.
Try to remember me before
I made mistakes, i just wanted to explore.
I got ahead of myself, i wandered too far.
Fell from a cliff tryin to get my **** licked.
Lost my inocence, then got lost in your forest.
Wanted to climb sequoias, now all I gots a toothpick,
and kindling, but I cant keep our flame lit.
so my hearts ripped and my minds split.
Do I choose love, do I choose happiness?
Do I walk away? i wont hear the end of it
My heart knows what my mind dont admit.
I could drive myself crazy, loosing my whits.
So i walk slow follow the signals, see it from your angle, stare out my window, watch the smoke flow.
I never wanna see you go as easily as this wind blows my clouds low, away from my home.
Try to grasp it, but it slips through my hold.
Always felt like you broke the mold.
Everyone before you was placebo, you were my libido.
Turned me into a loving creature, instead of who I am now, feral with fever. ******* for leisure, smoking until I cant see clear.
Wish I could go back to who you knew last year.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 12:23 AM UTC
Sequoias in flames
Sow their best and likewise you
Reap in height and weight
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 11:29 AM UTC
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
by Wendell Berry
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
The very first time I had ever had my coffee black
was because I was just being polite.
A man wanted to brew me coffee.
I sat at his table with the candle I gave him
and it was the only light in the room.
He brought me a cup, and told me
he had no cream or sugar.
What was I to do? He brewed it specifically for me.
I didn’t speak. I choked down the black sludge.
He talked of his travels and his photographs of sequoias.
We shared a cigarette
and he rubbed olive oil in my hands.
I grew tired and decided to depart
and I thanked him for his hospitality.
I have not put cream or sugar in my coffee since.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
unbeknownst
to the human race,
every year the free trees,
those of the forest, the great gardens,
have an annual convocation, a solemn communion and a
delicate conversation
the gathering is attended by insects and avians,
for theirs is the heavy responsibility,
that which the trees cannot do,
they must do, i.e. move, be agents
of pollination
Trees gather, the sequoias officiate,
for they the elders, are wise in the
rings of history that tells of ritual,
sacred sayings, the reasoning,
the young ones don’t full comprehend
“Who shall give aid and comfort to the human dead?”
Who shall give of their seed
that will be carried by our friends,
they may be scattered planted,
in the graveyards where
those that tended and
sheltered us,
lie buried,
and the living
who tend to
their ancestral,
will adjoin, all
in need of shade and
comforting song?
there is great rustling of the wind,
the most honored,
query those attendees,
why must we choose?
let each of us contribute
according to their needs,
let the randomized
scattering by our winded
and flighted avian friends
best express our gratitude…
thus forests, parks, great gardens,
and yes, the cemeteries of mankind,
ALL
were seeded, deeded and refreshed,
and the world was cleansed,
commended, interdependented,
defended and extended…
Wed Aug 7 2024
Aug 7, 2024
Aug 7, 2024 at 10:48 AM UTC
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood”
It is written in the Hagakure
That when faced with situations
Of life and death
To choose death
For it is more honorable to do so and die
Than to choose life
Retreat
And then die all the same
Is this what it means to be bold?
To strike out
Against odds that seem impossible?
To stand strong and shout out the eternal phrase of
“I don’t give a ****
The one in the arena
The ultimate stoic
Uncompromising but not cruel
I must become a man of action
And though it is not the singular soul that drives history forward
Those who do so are not passive
Not timid
They do what must be done
Like Lenin
They are reasonable people
Even when pushed to do things that seem unreasonable at the time
This is how one must be bold
Taking hold of that great spirit that drives all great people of action
To be determined, strong, discipline,
More virtues to be explored
Legs strong as sequoias
I stand on stage in front of you
Reminding myself
And urging those of you who need to hear this
Stand in that arena
Do not choose retreat
Be bold
And leave your mark on the world around you
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 9:38 PM UTC
You have my heart,
in the fragile palm of your hand.
My love for you,
runs deeper than the ocean.
It beats with a purpose,
and that purpose is you.
Stars shine in your eyes,
magnitudes of watercolors dance.
In pools of flowery light,
your spirit of gentleness roams.
Like a gentle lamb,
you love the meadows of gold.
Jumps higher than the sequoias,
you leap with the hope of a child.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 12:36 AM UTC
by Wendell Berry
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
Translucent and
undeserved mercy
streams into me
humbling me like giant sequoias
who draw my eyes to the heavens!
Mar 4, 2023
Mar 4, 2023 at 1:30 PM UTC
We have risen from dirt
To be stewards of earth
To account for all life
Free of value or worth
Evergreen in our growth
To divine suns of truth
Chlorophylling our minds
With a fountain of youth
Still losing ourselves
In an arboreality
Nurturing seeds
Of an elementality
One of sequoias
Who weep with the willows
And make their leafbeds
Out of solid rock pillows
So spill your coal ash
In our wildest streams
You can't stop the flow
Of our lucid sea dreams
Repainting the blue
Iridescent with reefs
Transcending horizons
Of vision's motifs
Where Shamu think tanks
Dive deeper than whales
Exploring the depths
Of serpent shale scales
Who drill to our cores
As we quake with the force
Of Pompeiian eruptions
And wars of resource
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 2:53 PM UTC