Early Retirement

With the introduction of Spring-like weather yesterday, I sat in my cheap office chair trying to close the shutters enough to block the sunlight. I exclaimed, "God damn light, quit shining on my computer!" I eventually finagled with the cord enough and sat down satisfied. No sunlight for me, no 60 degree weather, only me, the customers and computer. Ah, the joy of being a working man??? This poem is an ending I hope I don't ever have, but if so, it would be my own fault.

There I lay, scattered across the carpet, dead.
My coffee cup had spilt onto my papers;
Someone would have to reprint them.
The last words I said before I collapsed were,
“Anna, when is this weeks meeting with John Dallenger from Dal Investments?”
Now that I am dead, I really wish I took that vacation in March to South America.
As a matter of a fact, I wish I would’ve super-sized my Mickey D’s order during lunch.
Shit, I died hungry.
I wonder how long it will be before someone notices me?
I bet Bob Jurence will take my place;
he’s wanted my position for years!
Bob will do well, and anyhow he is in much better shape than I am.
He might even make retirement unless he adds onto his house.
In that case, he may have to put in a few more years
depending on interest rates and how well his stock portfolio does.

Risk

There is always risk associated with life. There is always a chance you could die. Being a mountaineer and lover of nature, I imagine death in my pursuit of these most happy endeavors. I'm told, "Don't risk yourself. The mountains are dangerous. You could die!" And I agree that mountains are dangerous, but that I need risk. It is what keeps me sane, on my toes and prepared to face all lives challenges. The alternative of city life is not one that appeals to me. I need to range across glacier and ridge, test my metal on mountain side, and cast my luck with nature whom treats me with satisfaction and peace of mind.















You see I've got it all figured out
death isn't a racquet.
Without risk, what's life about
but a full metal jacket?

The Soul of a Mountain II

I thought I'd write a paragraph of a story. I'll add to it a paragraph at a time, as I write it. I'll try not to go back and change anything. It could be fun. Others could add to it if they want.

Lift up the night to awaken
on this mountainside
take sun swept slopes between glacier and tree
and watch the shadows march and ride

Born on the morning with the waking sun, the blackness gone, the fire of blushed excitement greets this sunrise, stretched over the hills below the mountain. Its actual name lost to a people whose wood homes long before rotted into the earth; trees now stood on their bones. A cold spring night had left a frost on newly budded branches and a bubbling stream fought its way out of ice. Beneath a blanket lay a young brother and sister fighting to stay warm. Nearby another blanket lay still, steaming as the sunlight marched on up the valley. Wolves howled, but no one seemed to care. Life had been too brutal. Yet the kids understood what it is they had to do.

Today they would leave their father, and carry his message home. He had said it could save them; they had seen enough to believe it. It had been two weeks since they had escaped the city, but the night before they had been spotted. In their flight their father had climbed this mountain, but hadn't made it far. The man that had been chasing them, had killed their father, but he had been wounded too, and lay licking his wounds further down. They had hoped he didn't make the night, but somehow they feared he had.

"Sis, we should go," the brother indicated as he shoved off the blanket. She was crying he could see, but there was nothing he could do. They had been put to the test like father had uttered they would be, "You are my blood, you know what to do," he had said. "Steel has dealt me a cruel blow. You are my son and daughter and you have strength undiscovered. Test it and it will temper you of stronger metal than what was wrought against me." His father wanted to say more, but that was all he had said. They were lucky to have heard anything at all over their beating hearts. Neither of them could believe their father had fallen. Not this time. He had survived so much before as leader of their tribe. They had lived in peace for nearly a decade, that is until they met the Osarks. He cringed thinking that one of them could still be following. At 12 he would stand and fight. The knife at his side held testament to that. But right now they needed to go, "Sis, it is time to go."

Unbeknown to them, trees swayed far below with wind funneling through the valley and dark clouds cursed the horizon with foreboding darkness. Awakened, a man could be seen next to his dead horse. His leg bleeding and his face bruised and bloodied from his fight, but he was alive, and three sets of tracks could be seen leading up the hill behind him. He grimaced as he prepared to follow. There wasn't a choice. He was pretty sure his quarry was not too far beyond him. He had to make sure his job was done.

Birth

There stood side by side me and you
all of us
We looked at the world upside down
old, scared by rust
And understood that there isn't truth
but trust
And that we are all children earthbound
full of lust

Now

It is easy to lose track of time and let life pass you by. You think that maybe now isn't worth remembering. That day at work pushing paperwork. That time spent cleaning your house. The truth is, every moment should be lived. They are all special. It is just your point of view that needs to be changed. If you look at the boring close enough, you will discover that it isn't so boring.

Don't lose track of now
life doesn't have cruise control
no sonic boom will sound
it is the moment you must console...

A Universal Cog

I wrote this during one of my first plane flights. Looking down from so far above, I imagined the world from such a perspective.

The power of air
down through which I stare
shows me a world
that dances and twirls

A great wide ocean sea
that behooves me
of what grandness lays below
and what small part I play of the whole

The city, the town, the wilderness stand proud
above them all, I hear not a sound
and of the madness I have seen
there below, lay only peaceful and serene

“How vulgar,” I think
“the horizon bold and pink.
How vulgar these pillow clouds that lay
streaked with red, swimming in gray.”

And now as the day is swarmed in black
shooting stars attack
the Earth and my understanding
this “place” I am commanding

Such realization quakes
a rising urge to awake
Earth is not a lonely flower ornate
Life’s universal steward of fate

This everything out there
up through which I stare
shows me so many worlds
dancing and twirling

Dark-Black

Captured without light
littered without sight
Stumble toward nothing
never stop running

lost in nowhere
forgotten and unaware
open your eyes
scream, no one hears your cries

Stop struggling so
Let go
Don’t ask why
you know you’ll die

turn and look at your face
look back at you through space
It is yourself you attack
here in the dark-black

All we are
is a point of light, a star
you can look and think
tomorrow forget and blink

life is everything
married in life we sing
a universe that breaths
futures that tease

Around we twirl
alone on this world
Around we wonder
life born asunder