The Judge

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If you have read

About the Defendant

Then you know

Of the White Bear

He is my

Judge, Jury, & Executioner

Never haunting

Only condemning

Though years pass

Between sentences

Always do I hear

the clap of the clawed gavel

Rending my Fate

Now again

I stand before him

Not once

But twice

I am

To old to Fear

To tired for Angst

Poised in Trepidation

In dream I walk

Through a forest glorious

Finding upon a turn

The Demon of the Scale

He feasts

But not on me

I may pass

Unchallenged

Into a field of Light

In a dream I stand

Inside a room

Before a door

I open

Egress blocked

Progress halted

Crowding me

White Bear Cubs

They sought me

Found me

Together we are

Peaceful

I have sought Balance

Have I found it?

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The Mantel Cracked

Ψ

A timber house built by a calloused hand

The numb hand that built the stone hearth

The foundation of both laid on uneven ground

By a hand too tempted  by haste to mind

Too few nails joining plank to beam

Nor enough mortar to bed stone

Too much need makes way for mindless haste

Always the less in building the less in standing

The hand no more careless than its mind

A mind lost in need unaware of spirit

Spiritless homestead where children dare be born

In a home that has need yet not time

No time for nurturing by the light of the hearth

Soulless fire giving no warmth yet stoking want

A fireplace lacking the ability to feed the souls

of the family starving within the uneven home

Leaving only ghosts who wanted for so much

That the Mantel cracked beneath the load

Ψ

Ungreateful tied hands

Δ

How tranquil the painter upon the hill

Backdrop of Mountains overlooking ocean

Such gifts he is given

–

Standing in tall grass where tall trees once stood

I need to create but this canvass is not mine

These tools are forced on me by bigger people

The frame is cheap pine and weak joined

The canvass unevenly stretched with too little gesso

Two colors on a plastic pallet

One brush

What joy if there is no freedom

So I paint a cave within a Mountain cove

A place to hide

A place to hibernate

–

…and the painter is gone

Δ

Narrow

θ

Mindset on Oneself

Walking through communion Rain

Never getting Wet

θ

Systolic Light

Θ

At rest ◊ No activity ◊ Asleep

Mundane

Conserving energy ◊ Memory off ◊ Disconnected

Empty

-The Flat Line between Beats-

Pulses of energy

Compelling movement

With a drum roll of heartbeats

Generating

Coursing visuals

Dictating pen

Leather bound Tablet

Creating

Hamilcar’s Javelin

Thrown into the void

Sparking upon impact

Illumination

Balance & Peace

Θ

Treeline

Θ

On the Path

the trail ends

no more steps

On the Mountain

−

Trekking up the Mountain

my mountain

The Path will eventually end

my path

The time comes

my time

To carve new steps

my steps

Or

End all progression

my end

Stand still treelike

my stillness

Cast a shadow down the Mountain

my shadow

Hiding the paths of the journey

my hiding

from the Sun

−

It’s the Treeline

It’s why so many Great Mountains

Are bare at the Summit

Θ

and the Winning Attitude is?…

◊

Sure

Everybody has issues.

but

…

My Issues

ROCK

Love in the Malá Strana

◊

Up Lesser Town hill

A young man peddles his bike

Like floating on air

–

Perched on handle bars

A young woman and her smile

Wine bottle in hand

◊

Time

◊

Bury acorns in the soil

When pictures were black and white

Now your age in moss

◊

Gather

◊

Light the Bar-B-Q

Hand out drinks to all your friends

Conversations start

◊

Stalked by Anger

◊

Climbing a mountain high

Loose stones fall

In the bright blinding Sun

The stones become hot

Dust and sharp fragments

Choke     Bruise     Distract

Uncertain of footing

I  wander from the path

To a most familiar predator

On this ground I am prey

My heart begins to race

As it crawls near

My eyes wrestle it’s silhouette

From behind splintered stone

A face so vermin like

With red matted hair

Like a chameleon

In it’s holocaustic terrain

A living sore

In a blasted volcanic world

Infinitesimal

But sensing my awareness

Our roles then reverse

It cannot strike fear

Into what it cannot surprise

And in the light of day

It’s smallness is laughable

I look it in the eye

Show that I’m not afraid

I’m not so lost

That I cannot find my path

Yet spitting acidic vitriol

That stains then burns

Attacking in it’s retreat

Scurrying back into hiding

I cup the wound and rinse it

In clear cool water

Only a momentary flinch

Leaving not even a mark

I have avoided it’s bite

And weathered the poison

Looking over my shoulder

I see back to my path

The creature and I

Will soon dance again

For it ever tracts me

Always in my shadow

◊

Can’t take it back

◊

At the speed of sound

Are words etched in this moment

Forever branded

◊

Unreasonable & Yelling

◊

I’m assigning blame

To common imperfections

Hand picked illusion

◊

T.V.

◊

With absolute power

Reality is altered

Fitting the desire

◊

Where I am

At a place

The place of effort

Effort for the family

The family of many hands

Many hands that pound the stone

The stone that crumbles to dust

Dust mixed with water

The water to make mortar

Mortar that fills the spaces

The spaces between the bricks

Bricks that become the wall

The wall of the house

House of the family

The family

That makes a home

The Scorpions Sting

A man

Who never acknowledges insults

That they may fade

Powerless

Yet before leaving

They sting him

With venom that burns

Leaving always a scar

The Soul can not mend

His reaction always aggressive

But he is civilized

He can not say a discouraging word

So his pride he must swallow

Again

Again

Until intoxicated

With doubt

Six-Sidied Spears

Droplets of vapor

Conscripted from the air

Amassed in great clouds

Marshalled for War

Each drop armed with spears

And adorned in armor of Ice

All at once a trillion warriors descend upon their prey

Grass, trees, & buildings all buried in the onslaught

And too am I attacked

Yet many defenses have I

Wide-rimmed hat, coat, & gloves

Protect me from the thousand cuts of each flake

So I continue on my Path unhindered

As a fool who easily forgets

The marksmanship of Snow

To patiently fall so far

So slow

Yet still strike the intended target

It only take one

Six-sided spear

Striking the nape of my neck

To penetrate my skin

And invade my spine with Winter’s chill

Consume my body’s warmth with coldness

Infect my mind with a poisonous Frost

Fill my veins with Ice

And inflict upon me

The same mood

That lay siege to the Land

For Winter has come

And my Soul must sleep

Giving Thanks to you.

Out at the Stone
The candles are lit
A man is meditating
Out at the Stone
Many thanks are given
For so many gifts received
Out at the Stone
Counted amongst the blessings
Are new Brothers & Sisters
Out at the Stone
Those stronger than distance
Always touching in words
Out at the Stone
The man stands to his feet
Walks into the woods
Out behind the Stone
The bonfire is lit
And the day begins