White-cossack

By white-cossack - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Gifts from the Desert Wind

The high desert wind has been blowing steady, not gusty billows like the wind at sea, but rather like the low moaning of a dismal ghost. Eight hundred acres of farmland surround the house, the desert tumble weeds large and small come rolling in, trapping themselves on the fence lines until all is... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, April 2, 2007

when an illusion is true

Come now it is not so bad, emptiness is only an illusion, when you arise in the morning, and you sip the first cup of coffee, look at the roads broad or narrow, and smile, roads are not for destinations, only journeys, the only time an illusion is true, is when you believe you do not have, a choice. Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

All that's left

All that's left is the song of you, and your pirouettes to memory's silent tunes, of all the days remaining to me, I shall ever be looking for thee, Fare thee well upon your path, again we will meet when at last, my journey ends but until then, alas, alas, alas. Sign in to see full entry.

uncut

It is a simple stone cashmir blue corundum 17.33 carats uncut Sri Lanka ie Ceylon what child's toes picked this stone from the mud Its color entices with Silent Promises of something unspoken Sign in to see full entry.

Cell 103

His feet pound against the steel door, Incoherent rage against the world. He hates himself for what he has become, He hates the world for being. The muffled roaring of obscenities hang in the air like incense, His is the soul of pure vitriol locked in itself unable to spill. Minutes and hours pass... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Of Salt and Leather

I smell of salt and leather, standing in the morning sun, breathing heavily no longer young. You call the puppy and he bounces away, with a stick in his mouth longer than he is, bounding across the yard to some secret open place. I roll my shoulders to ease tensing muscles, lifting my blade taking... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Choose a Super Hero

It was at a Couples Seminar just a week past, Years ago you could not drag me to one, A change of habits or time perhaps, A broadened understanding of self, and my gentle better half. One of those odd getting to know you things, Couples Names drawn from a jar at random, The men trotted away to... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

When Windmills can be Dragons

From where in the deep silences does this strength come? Not from within this house of mourning, Where others see only the grey of dismal, I hear their weeping cries but move on, For me the time of mourning lays in a time ahead not yet finite. No stone has yet been carved, The dead not yet laid in... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, March 19, 2007

At the Bright Edge

Today I need a cane to walk, my fault for pushing past the warnings of pain, pushing past a broken body shaking in protest, pushing past the limiting medications, pushing past the worry of loved ones who watched, pushing past the outter self, pushing past the excuses. Two hours of meditation, Lotus... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, September 15, 2006

True Believer

There is a man I know, who believes every conspiracy theory ever uttered, and all the written articles in the grocery store rag papers, he truly believes the earth is flat, that man has never been to the moon, and that all the Mars pictures were taken in the Arizona Desert, that the movie Capricorn... Sign in to see full entry.

About this Blog

I have a tendancy to write in different moods, as do us all I think. For me writing is like breathing and so as you look at my work you will find everything from questions to rants and quite driftings. At fifty I have already lived far longer than I ever expected and yet inside this fifty year old body resides a heart and mind still dreaming as I did at twenty and five only it has a bit sharper edge to it. Life is about growth after all is said and done. It is my hope you enjoy my work however if you don't, well we are all different and at least you took the time to look.

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