On a line taken from a David Hockney interview...

The one line
that leaps forth
like the rocket of my pulse
in the way dark thirty
when the coyotes are all one siren and even the dogs
don't know how to act:

horrified by green.

At first the line seems...wrong,
but then you realize
that's just the 'snick'
of the final
perfect
puzzle piece.

@dogtrax

Anticipation Is Not the Same as Hope

Hello,
cricket on my keyboard,
on the letter "Y" to be exact.
Ooooops.
Now you are perched
on the top of my journal.
Eager to read me?
Your antennae
quiver
and I await
your next leap,
my writing's next leap,
my heart's, my wrist's
next leap.
My consummate friend,
you foresee
without looking.
I invoke the same.

Contemplative whales
swimming through
the sonic light
mastering
and moving past
all they survey.

Busted. Threadweary.
I am that man on cardboard:
"Will work for respect."

Pan's Hour

At sunrise,
when the day is at the treetops
filtering through, 
all that's pending is revealed:

Spider filament
&
pollen
&
falling frass.

The smallest gnats
&
dragonflies
&
dew drips.

Life in freefall.
Unveiled.
Delivered.

@dogtrax

Even though waltz time
is 3/4
It's still a perfect square,
the only even prime,
a two-step,
itself plus one dance two in four
Coupled.
Level.
Mirrored,
Symmetric.
Almost indivisible.
Now consider zero.
Dance to that beat.

May your losses
be borne up,
lifted by a kite
that they
may fly on.
Let the string
go.

Hermetic Sunday Morning

As below, so above.
We all live in
the ruins of the future
and the chaos of eternity.
As above, so below.

Having fun with Pixlr (pixlr.com). Jammed together lyrics from Frank Sinatra with Wilco: "Blue Skies, Sky Blue Sky"

Blue skies, smiling at me.
Nothing but blue skies
Can I see.
I should be satisfied.
I survived.
That's good enough
for now.

Dragonfly

on a window sill

on its back.

Fly.

No iridscence

only brittle,

grey,

dark

clear wings,

still.

And all I can

manage

is a poem

and a picture

and maybe you.

A dealing with the indifference and difference of the natural world: rebrand.ly/zenvm5k

A to @dogtrax 's response to my poem

Oh,
wilted
in the cold,
some
foolish
witch hazel
bloomed
and died.
Deep in the earth
it says,
"I have been known to return."

soundcloud.com/dogtrax/morning

spiralling down into a single word.

Dusk & dawn.
Call & response.
Quick & done.
Carrying on.

Ten Words. In My Wallet. – Impedagogy bit.ly/317wThX Everyday struggles undertaken every day--that's the wellspring of courage.

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