Music, Words, and Yoga

She folded forward to a place that she knew before.    It was’nt the same,and Read more

The cat prances lightly on a wall
Behind a smoked glass window.
Is it black, white, Calico, or Siamese?
We may never know…
The graceful silhouette carrying itself proud.
Needs no color.
Just,
Its graceful shroud.

Peaceful cold
With a heartbeat
So bold.
My head so warm
Peering
Through the shadows
For a place
To rest.
To close
For the day.
With rugs all around
Stacked high
To the sky.
Thick,
Double thick
On the floor below.
I think I’ll sit here
And
Enjoy the show.
See where I saw.
Feel
What
I know.

Who are you that hold
Such keys to the meaning of life?
Does it amuse you to look upon such strife?
Can it be that you are afraid?
Upon a pea
There lies a pod
Balancing high upon a blade of grass.
Does the poet fall upon the broken glass?
Do soldiers die for the price of gas?
Are we to find meaning
In our hopeless past.
Where we learned that fools and murderers conducted mass
To the weak,
To the wicked,
To the holier than thou.
To the begger goes the spoils.
The Sacred Cow.
Did we learn a madman
Captivates us even now?
As we teeter on destruction
In the forever, now.
The forever now?
The forever now…
The Forever Now

Yesterday,
A paper read,
“The Sun Is Out”.
“A Boy’s Shot Dead”.
So, I payed the man
Who sold me the pulp.
The tree that fell
For my eyes
To read.
The ink that stained the page
To bleed.
Was I ready
To recieve
A volley of information
Thrown
My way?
So,
The game is afoot
Almost everyday.
The day it does’nt
Is the last day.
The day you die.
When you no longer pay
In dollars and cents,
but whatever you say,
and what you’ve said.
How you’ve lived,
And
What you’ve read.
Next,
I walk,
and the danger mounts.
With each passerby,
Car and truck.
It escalates.
Maybe,
I’ll up the ante.
As the day wears on
Towards
The setting sun.
I reach the mountains
Of deeds
To be done.
I drink from the fountain
of what’s
To become.

The rainy sky.
Wisps of droplets on the skin.
Moisture in the air
As one hand slides
over another.
The hair like threads of silk.
The gap before the sip
as my eyes started to look up.
I tilited my head
before my eyes focussed.
I tasted the wind
Blowing
From
the Southwest