my self : the muse

Category: regular

Evergreen Wastelands

Evergreen wastelands –
whinos, druggies, pimps and whores.
Allen’s dreamworld became forever.
The negro streets dawned
– naked and mad.
And we’ve still got our Atom Bomb
– in this ever glorious now..
this never ending now..
this awesome..
this fucked..
this beautiful..now.

Up early

half-awake

stirring

dreams

remembrances of things

past-times

and places

and people

I once thought better to have forgotten

still

with this early light

they come quietly

soft

white clouds surrendering

and dark shadows

cast as old friends

limping over the hills

ready for the healing to begin

the difference

this sucks

becomes

I notice I’m having the thought “this sucks”

A world of difference.

With a new name…

With a new name…comes the refocusing.

But first the reviewing…

When I look back over my past year of starting to write and “publish” on this blog for all the handful of readers around the world to enjoy, I see a story unfolding of my experience and mental wanderings through different interests and foci, ups and downs, moods and tempers…all the usual.

At times I’m tempted to go back and delete/edit as not everything I’ve written still rings true with where I am today. But I’ve chosen not to. What is here is a story within the poems; it’s my growing and learning and processing. It is what it is. There’s delusion and sadness and misunderstanding. But there’s also truth.

And I think that’s worth something; even if I don’t love or agree with everything that’s come before. So I’m leaving it…

And moving on somewhat as well.

I’d like to start taking my writing more in the direction of some short stories, some autobiographical musings, and that sort of thing. I’ll still throw in some poetry here and there; and I may play with some themed essays too.

We shall see.

My life is quite the unwritten book these days. Many doors seem to be opening at the same time some that have needed to be shut are finally finding their way closed. I seem to be flipping in and out of states more frequently and finding more flow and comfort in the whole dance. I have no idea where it’s all leading; but it feels like a good trip so far.

Ah life.

postponed

some still and quiet voice
shouts (dry and hoarse)

tired, muffled

yet the echo returns:

Go, Find, Be, Live

listens

the meek and tender soul
— empty pensive and undone;

hiding in tomorrows
lying with promises

yesterdays

(so many yesterdays!)

always wishing
always wondering
why this is all done

and when it will ever be
— today:

someday, today;
forever, today;

just (please) not — today.