The Fence

Today was a big day
momentous in fact
Today we finished the fence
5' tall horse fencing, wooden posts
It looks great
in a country sort of a way

For the finishing touch
a wild-crafted gate of freshly cut salt cedar latillas
Still glistening with chain oil from the saw
as the bailing wire pulled it all together

I love bailing wire
and my fencing pliers
and my gloves

The dogs love it
walked the perimeter and pissed on every post to stake their claims
It was a beautiful thing to see


When it was all done,
I sat down on my porch
with my rolled cigarette
and felt like a very small and happy king

Pure Mesquite

Well, quite a lot has changed since the days of "Mild Blizzard Burgers":  We still have the grill, but it's now located in our yard in the Amargosa desert, I Grill with pure mesquite wildcrafted from the dead tree in the driveway, and our garden is busily sprouting in the 80 degree weather and generously watered by a warm mineral spring up the hill from our house.  The neighborhood critters seem to have decided that our house is the coolest spot in town to hang out:  I have already removed a baby tarantula and a baby lizard from our curtains and rousted a giant scorpion out of his hole by the outside wall while doing some heavy watering at dusk earlier this evening.  doves having been coming to graze in the increasingly spongy lawn, and a rabbit has been hanging around in the driveway checking on our progress with the garden.  It's a far cry from Taos, and it's nice to be back in the land of my birth, California.

mild blizzard burgers

I feel like writing tonight
like doing something creative
letting loose a little
why not
not that I've anything really important to say today
that I'm aware of
It snowed
it melted
I grilled some burgers
mild blizzard burgers
with gorgonzola
I loaded up a tiller
into a honda
in the snow
It was a nice day
overall
the dogs enjoyed it
I ordered some extra ram
for the old powerbook
recently returned from deaths door
It's happy
to be alive
So am I

Winding around through an open door

winding around through an open door
I come upon myself
surprised, I stop, and wonder
what am I doing here?
my mind seeks some plausible explanation
finding none, it accepts the implausible reality
I look into my eyes and see my own  humanity
deeper within, I see stars
I see a vastness that I cannot comprehend
Somehow, though, I understand
I know this endlessness
I taste the source and abode of my being
a silent nowhere that encompasses all that is
outside of time and ever-present
This is me
I am fed from my source
the formless potentiality that contains within it all I have been and will become
innumerable worlds and incarnations swirl around and through my awareness
as I rest within

Still here

In the interests of keeping this blog from becoming entirely inactive, and of keeping myself writing in some capacity, I am considering broadening the subject matter of my posts.  Until now, I have focused mainly on posting poems as I write them.  Lately I haven't been writing any poems.  This is something I feel a little uncomfortable about as I was rather enjoying the poetry I was writing and the sense of fulfillment that it brought to me.  Poetry has been a great source of comfort for me and one of the ways that I communicate with the divine, call it what you will.  I have been missing this form of communication lately, however I have been hard pressed to follow in  my own footsteps, poetically speaking.  Oddly, when I think about writing a new piece, I mostly hear lines of what I have already written.  I find myself fearing that my inkwell has run dry, and that perhaps I would do well to turn to other ways of communing with the unknown.  This may be true.  I have a feeling, though, that what is needed may be more along the lines of a reevaluation of my persona.  I have recently taken the habit of tentatively placing labels on myself: writer, poet, musician, gardener, lover, asshole.  It has been an interesting experience and experiment to try out these various labels and proclamations of self.  It's difficult to say as of yet what exactly I have gained from all of this experimentation or how and whether it has caused me to grow as an individual.  I have been consciously turning away from some of my more dramatic and esoteric leanings in an effort to become a little more proficient at daily life.  Again, it's difficult to say at this point what the outcome of this attempt will be.  I am hoping to be able to blend my worlds a little better and bridge the gap between the mystical and the mundane.  I cannot bear to murder the mystic in me.  I have very deep reservations about the wisdom of such an attempt and serious doubts as to whether it would even be possible.  On the other hand, I feel that it is almost equally as vital to foster the mundane man in me.  I am of the belief that we are multidimensional beings and that all dimensions coexist together as an ultimately inseparable and interdependent whole.    In other words, I believe that the mystical and the mundane are manifestations of the same essential thing, and that often they are one and the same entirely.  While I find this belief comforting and helpful in interpreting my world, it does not solve the essential problem of living a meaningful life, and still getting the bills paid.

San Francisco de Asis de Ranchos de Taos

The light fades
and shifts endlessly
bringing to life new forms
constantly changing and shaping the power and meaning
of what is revealed
First light in june speaks of long days of pacing oneself to meet the sunset still standing
September dusk begins to tell of gathering wood and bringing in the harvest from the coming storms

The ice that forms on the beard of old man winter
will tell a whole new tale
He will bring a fresh load of mystery down
from the frozen lands in the north
causing us to turn within ourselves
and squint at the light reflected from his frost
Showing us the world in stark, contrasting form.

I sit and marvel at this edifice of sticks and mud
built by man to withstand the ravages of time and war
and to glorify his god
Given strength with straw
of all things

Every spring a group will form
to tend and caress their history
with fresh mud
and straw
Presided over by the fathers
who add the straw
in solemn, measured handfulls
as if they know
exactly how many strands are needed
and are counting each as it falls
into the box of sand and clay
gathered from a secret place
where the color is just so
It is a point of pride for the parishioners
and a holy communion
between god and mud and man
and straw
I cannot forget the way the light struck that golden straw
and made it seem to glow with it’s own holy light
as it fell from the fathers hand
as if it had come
from the very manger that their savior was born in
imbued with his grace
miracle straw, holding it all together

Now, as winter approaches
the once smooth surface is already worn
by the wind and the rain that fell through the year
Still, the edifice stands
prepared to weather the storms of winter
to hold the warmth of faith
and the candle of hope
safe within its earthen walls
for another year
content in its knowledge
that it is a holy place
and the parishioners will not let it fall.

Blogger Vs Wordpress

Well, I'm playing with both. I miss the plugins and extra functionality that a selfhosted WP blog offered, and am finding that Blogger seems to have a bit more of that capability built in to it than Wordpress.com.  This seems a little odd to me.  I'm still just getting started exploring the world of NOT having a selfhosted site, and can tell it will take a little getting used to.  I think it may be a fun and educational experience in it's own right.   Learning to do more with less.