Feel better all ready

Summer breezes sometimes blow cold
Across the bay with pastimes grown joyless
But whip them in the eyes I must
To feel them surge warm and thrill once more

The rising sun and Jimi Hendrix
Losing traction on the curves
Forgetting self on carnival rides
Hypnotized by the abyss

The subtle joy of pain every true skateboarder bemuses
Has taken flight across unskateble cobbles, to werewolf moors
Self absorption steals the joy, lends power to death, fear to life
But the moving love that keeps me free is on the move again

To spin, to dance, to fly & sing
Meditation, music making, progressing across watery bodies
Sensing seasons, ignoring reasons, howling at the moon
Crying with the stars, trees grow with me, coat my car in sap

Riven, Radially

May rains falling right on time, wet and wind driven, cool and not overly happy. They seem to challenge me, like the rest of the world, calling me out. Whatever happened to adventure cycling? Keep having to check myself to see what kind of animal I am, what species I'd like to become, seagull or hawk, panther or wolf, oak tree or mayfly. Riven, radially, as a log.

Adventure waits in the dark cold

Icy winds of approaching winter become me, beckon me to dance myself warm while the kettle boils for one more cup of tea. Adventure waits in the dark cold, reserved for us with inner heat.

Ever new bliss is really the way to go.

Feeling good, looking to stretch that vibration.....stretching....stretching...ooo it feel so damn wonderful.....stretching...can barely take the whelming wonderfulness...ha ha ha... that tickles....hee hee ho ho hoo hoo, whoo hoo hee haw.

let's party

Fantasy Beach Cottage

A weathered ghost of a stainless steel kettle on an antique stove prepares to
whistle for our tea in my fantastic daydream, a small vase with three
small geranium blossoms in it graces a table carved for two. The ancient hardwood table waits with unimaginably vast patience & poise. This is a voracious & recurring dream that cyles deep, corkscrewing itself from one end of my mind the the other, and back again without rest.

When I wake into yet another dream I sit cross-legged on dry sand, near waves, with a few symbolic pieces of driftwood forming five sides around me. The wind calls coldly & the ocean wears a gray cloak. I hitch hiked there, and now wonder about my ride home, because dusk has come and soon will go, but I am so very happy.

Much thanks to Matthew Lichau for the picture.

Feels Like Autumn 2008

I stepped out onto our rear deck late yesterday afternoon, just in time to watch our table with the umbrella blow slow across the lawn. The brisk air had a particular vigorous energy to it that really could wake a fellow up. I turned my face into it, sniffed & smiled, felt the October Country calling early, time for walks in graveyards, those last cheap nectarines. Cold but not too cold, the kids shrieked with glee as they ran around with the wind in the fog.

The boy started kindergarten. He loves it. Feels like a sure enough new era.