Scaling the Mountain Peak

i saw the peak at morning

and wished to climb it

gathered all the necessary

implements

stocked accordingly for the task

before me

set out with

eagerness and zeal

elated for

the opportunity

to test myself

against

the mountain

i truly wished

to make it

but

saw another

more enticing

half way to the top

Autumn Blush

how many times

have your thoughts drifted

to turning wheels to cracked pavement

to rolling tides of autumn grain

streaming past

windows down

exhaling

stale breath modernity

inhaling

fresh air forest pine and soil

new sights before you

the familiar

reflected in the rear view

chasing tomorrow

emerging

reinvigorated

eyes tracing the horizon

following the rise of apricot sun

resting

smearing hues across the skyline

sherbet streams and rock candy silence

layered whipped cream clouds and indigo icing

rasping of weeds

grasses

swaying

following lead of an unseen hand

lie in the brush

autumn blush

hopping in wigwam leaf piles

savoring smoke of distant flame

eager nostrils flaring with desire

reminiscing

pressing bare feet into the living ground

awe at the chartreuse bedding bending to your weight

prickling soles with bladed kiss

warm memories

cold impermanence

Uprooted

sitting outside of work

dilapidated jeep

light misting

splotched

spreading like button mushrooms

across the windshield

fluid bulbs trapping light

obscured sun hidden from sight

smog grey clouds splayed overhead

so thick

I think they’re grazing the treeline

piercing the turgid mat

gnarled limbs

ruffled fingers swaying

with anticipation

they dance for the rain

as we once danced for the rain

thanking the unholy

unknowing

yet grateful nonetheless

i stuck my arm out the window

reaching toward sky just like them

wanting to touch clouds

shear that wispy down

scoop the ice from its core and swallow it

to feel the chill

i let the dew bead

across alabaster flesh

observed as marbles

rolled upon the darkness of my follicles

osmoting

drinking in rain

sharing in the culture of the peaceful ent

but

my roots must be displaced

transplanted

because today I work

Living On My Own Terms

i’ve been thinking about running again

falling back

full retreat

clear the way

crawling towards primordial ooze

a primitive slime

shedding my evolution

discarding the vestments donned

for that of forgotten fathers

i feel emancipated from mother nature

nurtured in the cold embrace of harlowian surrogate appliances

emaciated by societal expectations

gutted by commerce

trading my happiness in the free market of capitalistic ideology

disconnected from myself

fellow man

sustained by an intravenous flow of distraction guised as

information

bathed in static signals which cling and distort

i have hardwood dreams of isolation

of fresh water lakes and spacious caves

of nutbearing trees and fruiting shrubs

music of a pleasant breeze and chirping birds

crafting a life in my own image

living

on my own terms