Catch Some Wide Eye

Archive for the tag “nature”

A Meditation on the Nature of Love

love is a river
coursing and still at once
always refreshing itself
both painfully dangerous
and soothingly life-giving
multiple currents, eddies
the length, depth, breadth inestimable
never leaving what it touches unchanged
from crystal clear trickles
that rise from the foundations of the earth
to stale, muddied swaths left alone, unstirred
always one and the same
many things to many people
love is a river



Sunrise over Stonehenge on the summer solstice...

the light is pulled from the tunnel
pressed into thin sheets
that drape across the sun
spilling to earth

City Symphony

street light glow
hazy circles rubbing
salty concrete to a shine
sky scraper melodies
muffled closed-door arguments
babies cry for love of the night
sirens sing us to sleep
man overboard, over the covers
across the iron bars
of slick fire escape vine
peering over the jungle
veiled by cloudy cigarettes
and the street light glow


tugging on the frayed edges of another day
your thoughts are opaque and dark as black stones
unslicked by the stream’s wetness
yes, there’s no reflection here

Unwelcome Guest


This is not the face that greeted me at the door. A door I entered with hopes and full intentions to provide relief, a plan that was beaten and faded before it was ever unfurled.



With flagrant snarls and harsh accusations, my soul was beaten, my existence negated. The very thing I needed the most, snatched right out of my hands.




And here, now, where I am the most open, my spark snuffed out, my casings broken, the only person who needs to read this will not.





A refusal borne of haughty pride and venomous hate. There is more than enough time in the world to stare at a glowing box, but these words, this truth is not worth the time to slow down and understand. Unable to reach the one person I need the most to listen, I flee to the treetops. Maybe someone else will.





And I shall be judged, and I shall be viewed with consternation. I will be accused, and I will be the object of disdainful reproach. But never, not one single time in my life, will I ever be worth listening to.

Warrior Grass


The prickly, hardened beauty of a plain old thing creeping up around the edges of heavily littered, man-made ditches. I walked in the sunshine today and silently wept for the earth.

Creamed Daisies

you have me crying red roses
into the hail of another sunrise
hale with good and well-intentioned
streamers, slapping head over tails
like buffalo with an itch
or salmon on the fly


Photo of Blue Wild Petunia (Ruellia carolinien...

Image via Wikipedia

in my picture frame pressed with flowers
i, a very long time ago,
sent some thoughts to a memory jaded
and was met with swift, cruel winds
and my picture frame pressed with flowers
bent to drink in the cool dew
stooped to take the blow to heart
as often the natural things do
in my picture frame pressed with flowers
once, a summer’s night turned to gold
and the children’s ears burned at the sound
the laughter, the rose bud glimmer in the snow
as i sit by the window and looked outwards
upon a very long time ago.

[Inspired by the video below.]

God Bless the Flooded Road


there is a kind of person
who drives into the flooded road,
second guesses
and makes the right choice,
backing up into higher ground.

this person could be you.
there’s nothing wrong with that.

but then there’s the kind of person
who watches the second guesser
making the right choice,
but decides to fight through the current
to get to higher ground.

this person could be you.
there’s nothing wrong with that
as long as you survive.


the dust was still on his palms
and the chickens still clucking
when he heard that metallic scream
sending a chill to his homely heart
he thought about following it
about discovering the grizzly source
but only for a moment
like a fly swirling above head
the thought was gone with busier winds
and he bent back to his grist.


Snowflake. Small microscope kept outdoors. Sna...

Image via Wikipedia

perched in black repose
i search your eyes for signs of life

twin snowflakes gleam back at me
glinting like hushed winter lakes

feeling a bit sheepish

packed and hurrying
heart beat deep in my brain
we push, run, dash

no more paw clicking
hound growling
sharp teeth

whistle, food
whistle, yes
warm man
he is the warm man

we run in circles
edging dots and straight lines
to the warm man


show the world what you mean
put power to what you say
live a life that’s green

examples are stronger when seen
influence grows day by day
show the world what you mean

keep our world nice and clean
in the end it will pay
live a life that’s green

then our hearts will be serene
and peace will pave the way
show the world what you mean

it will make your body lean
you’ll look better everyday
live a life that’s green

from every bag to coffee bean
be a brilliant, shining ray
show the world what you mean
live a life that’s green

Willow Feather

the eagle does not
burrow holes in the dank earth
the eagle only
flies into the sky untamed
daring hunters to take aim

Touch Down

for Jingle and all of her hard work

You run to be warm in the sun;
Fly high to be close to the sun.

Crimson colored buttons unfold,
their hands reaching up for the sun.

A worm wriggles up from his home,
skin blind to the pull of the sun.

Warm wind tickles feathers unfurled,
so hot like the bite of the sun.

Sparrow, as you make your way down
please sing for the light of the sun.

Don’t Ask What She Uses for Fertilizer

for One Shot Wednesday

I am within my power in the world
a green and shining, broken up tower
a mystery of pearl is rewinding
a flower of time is open to chance
I break within a glance, open my hands
to receive new lands, for seasons of love

With all respect to those above I love
the scuttled ivy creeping in the world
clutched in my own two innocent white hands
I know each leaf will feed the firm tower
and we will save the earth with just this chance
the damage of fathers rewinding

bitterness of age is still rewinding
I find my heart so broken now for love
and I would run to hide it for a chance
to find a place of peace out in this world
like here in my botanical tower
I can take real life into my own hands

The thumbs are not so green upon my hands
but hope is not one to be rewinding
there are many dead in my small tower
most are bodies of the flowers I love
so somehow it seems that I lose the whole world
I would bring them back if I had the chance

But I don’t know if I can take that chance
the blood dried on my small and fragrant hands
I just know that I can save the whole world
evil deeds are dead now I’m rewinding
I killed them most for the lost ones I love
the rotting fumes fill up my small tower

A funeral pyre of justice tower
vengeance for the ones who had not a chance
oh, to grow, to live, to learn and to love
to find a pure heart and calmly hold hands
hopes of murderers are now rewinding
as justice overcomes this whole great world

I hold within my hands my small tower
rewinding hope with a green novice chance
feeding the world with the blood of my love

Awaken Late Sleeper

raw morning edges past
the golden stain of the sun
remembering the words
our nightmare selves forgot to say
at the end of the plunge
at the blackness, whole
swallowed bitter and complete


soft, wet darkness nuzzles through blankets
peeping out with large, doleful eyes
one ear, playfully flopped wrong side out
i reach a hand out to fix it,
patting the fuzzy, warm head
parenthood can be a wonderful thing

Meet Me at the Park

the heat is not enough to keep us away from the green
in a jungle of asphalt and mirrored buildings
the shade of an oak tree is somehow much safer
as the children splash in fountains
that are legally forbidden
we find a cool bench and decide there to park
beside pigeons and hobos and dogs with their bark.


For those of you who’ve been dying to hear my voice, you can listen here.

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