Strip Mall Days

There are days when I feel like I am standing in a concrete strip mall with half the stores foreclosed wearing a suit tailored for a fat man with no ass.

There are other days where I feel like I am me, and everybody else is them.

Light

Of the top ten reasons to be alive, observing, witnessing, experiencing light must be one of them.

Solstice Week of Light

The light had gone strange
that week
like yellow bulb
covered by gray silk
7 AMs were spent
listening to
sweet rain
too polite
to wake you
if you weren't already

the week was gentle
it had to be
the little
was moving
the large into a new direction
like a tiny ant
pushing the carcass of
a bug twice its size

all there was time for
was the light

over the small slit
of green explosions
in the city
was an evening light
covering the setting
sky with a mother of pearl
blanket

the grown up summer
so many small things
to see

transition

jose luis
the mountain guide
climbed mountains for
12 years
in his eyes
was done
a year more, he said
then he would stop

jesus was the cook
but he was stronger
and knew more about the land
we joked about him opening
a restaurant

vico was the amazon biologist
six years of explaining
the science of the jungle
next year he too would
move to a new town
and quit explaining

meg & nik
were right before
the rest of their lives
marriage, babies, and mortgage

the world to know

I had mountains to climb
and oceans to dive
I had races to run
and words to type

I had books to write
and poems to share
I had love to make
and beats to hear

I had foreign friendships to foster
and swaying trees to watch
I had tropical flowers to photograph
and amazon birds to listen to

I had languages to learn
and people to connect
I had bitter plants to eat
and local liquor to drink

I had tears to cry
in forests alone
and laughter
under sheets in
early morning

I had youth to mentor
and elders to follow

I had colors to paint
and songs to sleep to
I had sunrise to gaze into
and sunset to stand before

I had the world
to know

No Strategy

Black mornings
of gradual noises
horses
and birds
winter sunset
and we were asleep

the schedule
wasn't urban

movement
and observation
were the only required skills

decisions were
proximate
when to move
and when to stop
that was all

Chaos is comfort

The chaos of the unorganized was once my only relaxation
Certain places invoked that comfort than others
I must be growin old
Or I found a new chaos closer to home

Solitary Traveling

They ask me why I travel alone
There are things I learn only
After prolonged silence
Only as I watch a plane lift off of the ground below me
Only after the third hour of the bus ride
Only after my mind has thought all of it's practical thought
And enters into it's daydream