Rides, ramblings and rants on a motorcycle.
- We are scientists, too!
12.16.2019,4:57 PM
On Both Sides
On Both Sides
It was the same dream
so many times over
The last five decades.
But recently.....
Not in a long time.
Running on all fours,
Branches and leaves
Snapping and sliding
Along my body.
Breathing hard and fast
Tongue slipping from my muzzle
With each labored breath.
Odors stronger and sharper
Than ever before.
Each paw hitting the ground
In asymmetrical gait.
The rush of oxygen through my lungs
Fueling my body.
A sense of Fear,
Excitement,
And urgency.
Loping through the forest
branches reaching for my skin.
And a howl breaks loose
From my throat
While I stand still,
Between quick catches of breath.
Ears erect
And a nose full of aromas
Of life around me.
I am enveloped.
I sing a song
Of aloneness
The howl echoes
Off the mountain sides
And comes back to haunt me
Asking if I am human
Or canid.
And my answer
Crawls on the human skin
And the fur I wear.
I am me.
That no one knows
Not even myself.
Labels: Poetry
1.21.2017,2:40 PM
Between Sky and Ground
I come from the places
Between the sky and the ground
Always moving
Always moving
And never found.
I’ve tasted love
But like a river
It flows away
Always out of grasp.
Labels: Poetry
1.15.2016,9:22 PM
Music is in me
Sometimes.
On my day off.
If I'm not on a mountain top,
In a canyon,
On a trail.......
I listen to music.
Humanity's crowning achievement.
Music is a language
That knows no borders,
No colors,
No grammar,
No rules,
No politics.
The river is music, the bird's songs,
The coyote yips, the elephant's trumpet.
For humans,
Music is our hearts, our passions, our joy,
Our anger, our sorrow, our grief,
It is the essence of who we are
It is our past, present, and future.
Our music is the drum, the pipe, the strings,
Our thumbs on the wood,
the whistle through our lips,
Hands slapping thighs,
Our feet on the floor.
It is our voice.
Together, and alone.
Music is a tether to our very being
That touches every one of us.
Inside and out.
Some times on my days off,
I let it speak for me.
8.21.2015,8:57 AM
Our War
We are at war.
An undeclared war.
Hate, racism, bigotry, selfishness, violence, misogyny,
all the darkness of humanity increases every day.
We increasingly destroy our environment,
other species, each other, and ourselves.
Every day.
Is THIS the family, neighborhood, community, nation,
and world we want to live in?
Don't just point fingers and wave at someone else.
Look at yourself in the mirror.
Then talk to your family members, neighbors,
fellow community and country members.
This is not just your world.
It is ALL of ours, including those that have no voices.
Be the change you want to see.
Make a difference.
Labels: Poetry
7.19.2015,6:40 PM
My place in this world
Calmness is being outside
When the sun rises
With kingbirds squeaking
Killdeers calling
And Coyote songs
Echoing around.
The emptiness of humanity
Is filled with the richness
Of others
And fills me with calm
Serenity
And wholeness.
This is my place.
With them.
As a nothingness
That is complete.
Labels: Poetry, wildlife, wildlife refuges
8.31.2014,10:47 PM
I am alive
When I was little, I talked to animals.
When I was a child, I asked why.
When I was a teenager, I lived in books.
When I was a young lady, I wrote poetry.
When I was a mother, I marveled at creating life.
When I was middle-aged, I juggled life's demands.
When I was older, I asked why and changed the answers.
When I was a child, I asked why.
When I was a teenager, I lived in books.
When I was a young lady, I wrote poetry.
When I was a mother, I marveled at creating life.
When I was middle-aged, I juggled life's demands.
When I was older, I asked why and changed the answers.
Now that I am old, I talk to animals, rocks, clouds and water. I ask questions and smile at the many answers. I travel in books, on wheels, and through airwaves. I write poetry and prose about all the demands that were and a new simple life. I capture what I see in words and pictures, and fill my heart with family and good people. I play with animals and fly with birds. I might wear different colored socks, sing in the shower, or fill my hours with no human voice but with sounds of wind, birds, trees, and water.
When I am finally old, I finally get to live. And love everything.
Labels: Poetry
7.12.2014,12:35 AM
Night Music
As light gives way
to darkness
they dance hand in hand
with colors and shapes
songs and wings
and the changing
of the guard
goes on for hours.
Watch, listen and
learn.
They dance
magic.
to darkness
they dance hand in hand
with colors and shapes
songs and wings
and the changing
of the guard
goes on for hours.
Watch, listen and
learn.
They dance
magic.
Labels: Oregon, photography, Poetry, wildlife refuges
6.13.2014,5:30 PM
Journeys
As we journey forward
We leave breadcrumbs
On our path
Not to find our way back
But to remember
Where we’ve been.
We leave breadcrumbs
On our path
Not to find our way back
But to remember
Where we’ve been.
Labels: Big Bend, photography, Poetry
1.08.2014,8:30 PM
The Wave
There is a magic spot
On the wall
Right there
Yes, there.
When it is wet
Down
In the dark hole,
When the protruding
Fleshy hill
Is lightly teased;
When a warm
And firm
Presence
Pushes gently
On that magic spot.....
The wave forms
Rolling upward.
Engulfing limbs
Rolling through organs.
Spreading
Tensing
Searching for release
Throat tightens
Eyes squeeze shut
And the waves
Escape through the mouth.
Like a giant bird
Of molten earth
Rupturing from the belly
Of a volcano.
It carries the voice
As it springs forth
In release
As if being born
Into a silent world
Of ecstasy.
In the wake
Of the wave
I melt
Into oblivion.
On the wall
Right there
Yes, there.
When it is wet
Down
In the dark hole,
When the protruding
Fleshy hill
Is lightly teased;
When a warm
And firm
Presence
Pushes gently
On that magic spot.....
The wave forms
Rolling upward.
Engulfing limbs
Rolling through organs.
Spreading
Tensing
Searching for release
Throat tightens
Eyes squeeze shut
And the waves
Escape through the mouth.
Like a giant bird
Of molten earth
Rupturing from the belly
Of a volcano.
It carries the voice
As it springs forth
In release
As if being born
Into a silent world
Of ecstasy.
In the wake
Of the wave
I melt
Into oblivion.
Labels: Poetry
12.10.2013,8:38 AM
I'll take your love
I'll take your love,
I'll take your hate,
I'll take your desire.
I'll take the world,
When it turns on you,
I'll set it afire.
In the chill of the night,
I can feel my heart racing,
As I run towards the light,
that seems so far away,
Wondering forever, in the darkest of shadows,
Wondering if I will ever see you again.
I'll take your heart,
I'll take your pain,
I'll bring you to life.
I'll bring you to life...
- Chester Bennington, Linkin Park
Labels: Poetry
11.26.2013,2:46 PM
A Long Time
I have forgotten how comforting a gentle touch can be.
How enticing that first kiss feels.
How sweet a soft sigh in your ear.
And how soothing are warm fingers in your hair.
Even if just once, it renews a quiescent sun inside, which bursts forth with a
brightness and warmth, and a radiating smile that beams with a life all it's own.
11.07.2013,8:50 PM
Closing the Door
You can't turn around
And go back
Put one foot in front
Of the other
And move forward.
But you will always
Remember the past.
Closing the door behind you
May put the past to rest
But you will always
Have the windows
To look through.
You will meet new
People and places
That make fresh tomorrows
And beginnings.
But the ghosts will
Always be there
Reminding you.
Don't fear the ghosts
Don't run from the past
They are part of you now.
Hold them and walk with them
Take them out
into the light
As they become
A part of you.
And maybe they will smile
and hold your hand
and hold your hand
As they meld into
The better and happier person
that You can be.
Take a walk with me.
Labels: Poetry
9.21.2013,9:16 PM
What is time?
What if we find out that
time is made up only of
heart, flesh and bone.
Will we still be remembered?
Will we still remember
the faces we've known?
time is made up only of
heart, flesh and bone.
Will we still be remembered?
Will we still remember
the faces we've known?
9.08.2013,6:08 PM
The wind cries
"Will the wind ever remember
- Jimi Hendrix
The names it has blown in the past,
And with this crutch, its old age and its wisdom
It whispers, "No, this will be the last." "
It whispers, "No, this will be the last." "
,2:31 PM
Beyond Almost
While the duck and chicks
Swam ahead
Almost sorry
That summer
Is leaving
Almost embarrassed
Dancing alone
Almost saddened
To lose friends
Almost paralyzed
While waving goodbye
Almost grief-stricken
At the death of
My Father
Almost anxious
When I lost
My way.
But 'almost'
Is not finite.
We can succumb
Or move beyond.
Almost is a fork
In the road
The path we choose
Is our own.
Almost.
Labels: Poetry
12.25.2012,2:29 PM
Forgiving our fathers
|
Dad, please don't give up this fight. We love you. If you don't let go of the pain, this cancer will eat you.
We love you.