I am set among a thousand facing houses where a thousand trees should be facing, but there isn't. Instead there run streets and sidewalks, byways and highways. They are sandwiched between. What honest living is that? Nature should be our companion, not our slave.
--
Nature knows
I am a lie
She has left me with only
Memory
Yeah, there is green
Beneath my feet
I know it
But it does not know me
Yeah, there is green
Above my head
I know it
But it does not know me
Where did honesty wreck
Where did I disembark from her green decks
How did I end up contrived and lost in my own home
Nature knows
I am a lie
She has left me with only
Memory
Friday, January 22, 2010
Nature knows
Posted by cascadepoet at 9:53 PM 1 comments
Labels: home, memory, Mother Nature, Nature Poetry
Monday, January 11, 2010
Going Astray
When you are in the high country, you look out upon the forest and see those countless green miles spread out before you. And, yet, once among those many trees, there is no looking out. There is no seeing beyond that green veil. You are concealed and hidden from the world. For humans there is an instinct still desiring the security provided in those mossy isles of fir and cedar.
--
To where shall
I amble through forest?
Shall I Levitate
Over canopy
Or sink into fecund mud?
Shall I plainly stab forwardly
Through brambles
Mossy isles
And lose my way
Hopelessly
To nowhere
Posted by cascadepoet at 11:52 AM 0 comments
Labels: forest, getting lost, Mother Nature, Poetry
Friday, January 8, 2010
That we exist
Humanity, like all beasts, exists alone here on Earth, far from anywhere. No matter how smart and powerful we become, we still depend on this lonely planet, on the edges of the Milky Way, for our survival.
--
As fragile
As desperate
As weak
As strong
As powerful
As destructive
You wonder how
Why?
For how long?
That we may exist, here
Now!
However far into
the future
And how
We can just as easily be
Washed away by the seas
Buried under the mountains
And lost within the sands of time
Posted by cascadepoet at 1:08 PM 0 comments
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Dream On
Dreams are what lives are made of. Whether they are accomplished is not what matters. What matters is that they are believed in and that they are a part of you that you hunger for. Without that hunger, the life force that pushes you will not sustain itself. It will sicken. So, dream sleepers, awaken.
--
You're leafishly, houndishly
Drifting
Running, spinning
Expeditiously
You're fiendishly, spectacularly
Believing
Hoping, dreaming
Faithfully
You're not slipshod, slapdash
Half ass
Casual, lackluster
Serendipity
So dream on, dreamer
Awake you sleepers!
Posted by cascadepoet at 6:49 PM 0 comments