wrap your arms around me
envelope me in electric warmth
press your cheek against mine
so that they can pass care

squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze
don't let go

until the sigh that cannot be sighed
is sighed

then again as lighter beings

Searching for the great warmth.

With little transition from dream to wake,
it was the light that told the difference.

hopes for an early Spring

old journal sketches coming back around: #1125

Dreams in Blue and White
you could still feel the warmth of the new sun
the Spring bringing life to the sleeping trees
the songs in the molecules
the wind of the road
and the smile from your face

Eyes open and dreaming
The soft light new morning
Got the mellow blues and
The glowing pinks

In those moments
You can feel across the ages
Float face up in the warm tide pools
Live a spread of ideas
Send messages to the dear wandering hearts and souls
And feel together.

old journal sketches coming back around: #1129

Pioneer

We grow up.

lung rain

Roger Miller and Willie Nelson

Screen Test Series: Entry #1 - The Sage

Max the Pug. 35mm film. 2002

The Rise Of The Black Marauder

Black Bunga, circa 2313. Oklahoma.

Of the river and the road

Messages sent upstream
From my rocky morning bluff
To the creek waters of a hidden spot.
Smoke and blue-eyed
Rippled conversations.

Thoughts sent to windy northern roads
where the calm and freedom drove
with good talks and good silence and rolled down windows.

Known already.

In the fancy resaurants.
In the dive-y-ist of dives.
Alone in the routine machine.

Workhorse yellows

And there's the voice
That became a dim echo
Back in grasp

Keep your hand palm up
Let it stay like a butterfly.

we called it:
shedding the skin veil

sometimes:
shedding the skin vile

Today I was the river
All of the pig carcasses had floated away
The current now calm,
water in smooth ripples
breeze
Soft of self and emotion
everything and all
and awake– in bed
blowing with the wind

'You were gone, man. A ghost.'
Welcome back

It's trajectory was manic and deliberate. Crazed.
The black sparrow diving directly into my left knee with such a force
It's beak impaling through the knee cap, splitting a canyon into it.
The bird flapping wildly–stuck– I reached down and with a firm grip took the bird
and pulled
What didn't happen was a surprise.
The beak did not follow the rest of the bird. Instead, it separated from the bird's face,
continuing to gnaw wildly through my knee-cap.
The beakless bird flies away, and I pinch my thumb and forefinger around the end of the chomping triangles in my leg and pull.
Finally.
And what is left, a large crevasse with blood red rock and sinew sunset.
I roamed the rest of my life with this vista.

Find me Coto.

In dream last night
I walk through a dim room on a float and a drift with a gray soul. At the table underneath a hanging work lamp everyone I know is seated in folding chairs. Friends from past and present under the harsh light track my cold body as it crosses through the room, in one door and out the other.
Somewhere in that trail, my soul seems to actually separate from the body as it walks out of the room. It lingers – hovers over to the table and listens.
"Have you noticed something?"
"It's sad."
"Yeah. His inner light is fading."

"Do you think he knows?"

They call that the 'Dead Man Shuffle'.

...to The Great Sage

You are missed still. I thank you. I love you.

Cacti and Succulents

Things are moving smoothly
Charva skin
Keep your head high and in balance
Grand Inquisitor
Running wild with the multiple pursuit of dreams
Slow Western Ghost Tentacles

And one day
little budding flowers for all.