Evergreen

In the amusement park wilderness, through the narrow gates
Sloping horizons lie
Tilting my memory head
and sifting sentimental traces onto the rocky creek shore

Time and terrain feel tightly compressed, violently pushed together
But only with finger tips, Earthly and Otherwise
The stately tenants, invisible, whisper through their shadows
language unknowable but felt cooly across the neck.

This world, raw but ripe for rotting, demands a particular attention
A loop of thought that begins and ends in front of a mirror
may infect the spotless dew

In the midst of nature's tour, exposed, vultures pluck away affections,
secret hearts ride the lightning wind
They strike the distant plains—too quick for you to see
too wild to explain.

These are traces of beauty lining the prickly dirt path,
fading with each step
leaving just a dream—thoughts of you and evergreen trees

transient

that ethereal place
that baptismal river flowing through my fingers
pushing and pulling, lulling me hypnotic
craggy faces mask the twists and turns
unto ocean depths untoward

all I see is what I feel
suppressed beneath the current and the blinding sunset light
peaks and valleys do not hide, they are not seen
fingers feeling firmament
firm is the spiritual grip supine
weak is the clasping hand, grasping watery straws

Kern River

"243"

you look a little haggard
we all looked a little worn
the sun and the rocks and the water didn't have to exert any special force
or divine power
we willingly mingled with their nature
stubborn, hot, rugged and raging
cool local beer and plain local women
never seemed so pleasant
so simple
deception is the name of the game
undercurrents and murky water that shimmers like gold
a closer look reveals the truth
but don't look too closely
or too long
you'll be swept away, another number on the sign

Graduation (Friends Forever... Or Until College Starts)

Happy Birthday Blog

Happy Birthday Blog! Though the very word "blog" still makes me shudder, I am quite proud of my own little web log. Maybe it's the but-my-baby-actually-is-the-cutest-baby-ever syndrome that allows me to keep publishing posts while ridiculing everyone else. To mark this anniversary, I've browsed through a handful of random blogs using the Next Blog feature on the blogger tool bar. Some things I noticed in the course of browsing... There are many blogs written on the behalf of a beloved pet or newborn baby (i.e. Scotty's Weekly Adventures, Scotty being a grey terrier from Michigan). People enjoy customizing the look of their blog, away from the templates provided by blogger, frequently to their detriment. It's great that you discovered HTML, but in the (paraphrased) words of Ian Malcom, "They're so preoccupied with whether or not they can, they never stop to think if they should." Lastly, there are more blogs in foreign languages than I would have ever imagined. I suspect some of them are written in a language invented by the author.

I know a few other people with blogs, and a lot of them talk about their blog like a flashy toy they had as a kid. They reminisce about the good times, "Ohhh yeahhh! I had a blog once. I used to post all the time when I first got it. I haven't updated that thing in years." All the while smiling and staring off into the distance. It's quite touching. 

With the exception of July 2007 (the Harry Potter massacre) I've managed to post at least twice a month, keeping my camera active and in shape, while expanding its definition. So here's to another year of posting.

Black and White and Red All Over

Three for Free