filling the Gap

concrete jungles
they wrap and swarm
hovering over the earth
with just enough seperation
to seperate us

the Approaching Winter

Sun trickles through the frayed strings of a dream catcher in front a window
Feathers hang and shutter, beckoning my view
And the trees now shake
Swaying wider with bare arms
Bending further
And further still

Autumn passes quickly
I chase the sun near the end of the day
Running from the shifting shadows
Taking what I can
To follow the forest’s lead
In preparation of the upcoming cold
I chase the sun near the end of the day
Not yet ready to behold
the fettered might of winter’s harshness ready to unfold.

putting together pieces of a trip to ny

Note: So, this is the beginning of a mess of scribblings and thoughts during this country boy's first visit to big ole New York City. Oh me...where to begin...I suppose here, but I promise things will get better, and far less screechy preachy...thank you for your patience, sit back, and enjoy the ride. thank you for flying fathom usa.


Great buildings reach to heaven
but few use the staircases anymore
sprawling out and up progress shows itself proudly
these gravestones of forgotten days
the epitaths to the wild
the constant is change
mechanical wolves and misconstrued reality now hunt
in the shadows of daylight
canopy of concrete
great trees of metal and we are the fauna
crawling inside
what and who does that make the hungry woodpecker?

The Woodpecker must be capitalism then, picking off the unfortunate victims of the system like squirmy grubs, stabbed by the jackhammer beak, swallowed by the immensity of learning yo place in the new hierarchy of balance sheets and man. How does it feel to live in the age of unreason? To have no control. Forced into a system you may not agree with, one you will be chastised for even insinuating it has flaws, for after all, that is not very patriotic and one quickly starts sounding like a communist pig instead of a capitalist one.

My worries are only worries, inherent problems I see, but who am I but a simple country boy, what do I know of existence on that scale of things? What does Liberty even mean anymore? We are free, but are we really free? I feel rather confined, blocked in, suffocated, as if very narrow paths were my only option and I'm unsure if I am even content with those. How do we break free, make a new level playing field, and even out this eschewed distribution of choices and options.

Have we already gone too far? It is difficult to say what history will say about this age, and perhaps it and we still teeter on the tipping point, the future still undecided but there is an air that a choice will be made in the near future, one with massive ripples unlike anything witnessed in quite some time, perhaps occurring within 4 years or less, and the gears are a mess, so let us pray our hearts are pure and we remind ourselves of the power of ingenuity and chance in the infinite canvas that is we powerful people on this fragile living spacecraft.



The night is long
but our dream is longer
~Haitian proverb

moments drift, moments slip

Balloons rise to nowhere out of a young child’s grasping grip
Like these thoughts floating into the abyss of an absent mind’s chaotic trip
But where do they go and will they ever return
Recycled in the incinerator of what must be a finite sponge of thought
Late at night we pray that great lost epiphany will somehow float back to our mind
And fill the aching gap it forever left behind.

A goobye to the carefree summer

These sweet summer days
slowly grow and surely glow
as the leaves and blades of grass
in their world so far below

a soft caressing breeze
songs of the aviators
serenity whispers nearby
we are a peaceful people
living
cognizant and appreciative
of the gift surrounding us
sustaining us
embedded upon us
Living the dream
this stream of consciousness
is flowing, the lifeblood
the river
we drink it but do we see it?
we need it but do we bleed it?

Sit amongst the leaves and blades of grass
amongst the trees
listen to their stories

these sweet summer days
paradise wrapped in a dream
wonderment surrounds us
and we abidingly smile in awe.

Mountains make us believe in gravity
depth and height
they remind us
our spectrum of acceptance is short
and our field of vision is not within sight

We rumble loudly
mountains humbly stand tall
saying nothing
letting the landscape sing on its own
Solid, aspiring
always hopeful when reaching for the top
let us learn from our mountainous counterparts
its hard to hear time on that scale
knowing nothing of transience
the apex of life on this planet
somewhat literally
in more ways than one
rolling and folding
blanket of our foundation
our ground
yet so few seem grounded
For in substance we walk not on the mountain
but in the mountain.

fractal swirls and caverns shape us

Swirls and caverns
Echos and chants
These endless sponges of mass interact

Lightning snaps
feel the hydrogen convert
thoughts manifest
from axons to action
cut yourself off to be cut on
cut in to the hand of thought
precious bodies to protect
the jewel of our massive intellect
the energy behind beauty
as well as our binding pendulum

But there is an answer to the madness
somewhere in the swirls and caverns
echos and chants
where these endless sponges of mass interact.