slow dancing in a burning room

sometimes you just want to keep going. stopping is not an option. when time runs out you just chase the phantom down the street. and you catch it and hold it tight…

guitar solo…
a strobe light
in a smoky room

ten dollar cover

no one knows how i feel. not exactly. sometimes not at all. you can talk and smile right over your pain. you can. the way sandalwood burns filling the room with the fine scent of a well lived life. half closed eyes see it all.

at the abandoned
asylum for the insane
i let myself in

leaving a shadow is all

so attached to this body. but at the end of the day or the end of time we just leave the faintest trace of ourselves. todays best ideas were hatched a century ago by a farmer smoking a pipe in the field after a long day. like a stone in our shoe they just reappear down the road of time and we pick it up and the lesson begins again. knowing that nothing is. is a comfortable feeling for me.

sundown
confessions dance
on two left feet

dragon clouds

nothing scares me. speaking to a hostile audience. that barking dog showing me their teeth. the black bear standing on hind legs and looking my way. i remember when my parents took the family to yellowstone when we were kids. there were five or six grizzlies in a parking lot along the road. my dad drove his brand new 1953 bel air chevy right up to one of the grizzlies. we did not have air conditioning and the windows in the car were open. all three of us kids were in the back seat eating oreo cookies and laughing at the bears. then one big grizzly put his paws on the open window on the passenger side where my mom was sitting. yeah she screamed. we were all terrified and then quickly without a thought my dad grabbed the whole package of oreos from us and tossed it over the bears head. the car bounces wildly when that bear suddenly went for the cookies. all the windows went up and my dad got us out of there in a hurry. i learned something about bears that day. never been scared of them again. hell we had something in common. we both love oreo cookies.

shaping shadows
to suit our fears
mountain sunset

the echo is still you

when in a group i talk. when by myself i listen. sounds paradoxical i know. the hardest part of living is being on good terms with yourself. that takes conversation. i try to keep it light and easy you know. but chaos theory seems to demand that we label things. we think that we will know what the whole is if we can name all the parts. not true. i leave the labels to others and am sure to ignore any given to me. a clean empty shelf holds a small vase with a single flower. if forced to give it a label i would call it a ‘full shelf’.

i shape it
into a bunny
dustball

only the sun knows how to be quietly bright

oh those very smart people in our lives. so easy to spot them. they tell you how smart they are right off.

summer sun…
no label
required