Where Night is Not Black

All that I Require of You

by on Feb.12, 2016, under Thoughts on Then

These are all I need, all I require,
The ability to master my own mind,
My own body, my feelings, let loose,
To feel complete in moments isolated from all else…

To find a small place, people known to me,
Whether can be cold or warm, but there must be precipitation,
There can be mountains or flat plains,
Beautiful desolation, or towering heights…

I hope to sit and sip Lagavulin 16, and think,
Simple thoughts, sometimes wonderful ideas,
Talk with friends, have a best friend,
And simply let my time pass, writing words…

Perhaps, my best friend will keep me warm at night,
Perhaps go home when it gets late, and I’ll turn in,
Sleeping knowing you are loved is never lonely,
Sleeping with the warmth of love is unquenchable fire…

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Away In A Dream

by on Dec.12, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

Away in a dream, a totally new place,
Where I see you dancing, in a street,
No music, just a night air, cool,
But you are warm, dark fire…

I take your hand, holding on tight,
Smiles all around, onto a private plane,
Too expensive? This is a dream,
And we can do anything here…

We land on an island, keys to a car,
Light blue, smooth ride, up roads into hills,
Into a house, a three story building,
A kind mother hands us a key, she and I still hold hands…

The mother leaves us, we go to a window and look,
She looks out at the beautiful ocean, mountains,
I look at it, but she distracts me always,
Her beauty is only more here now…

I hold her, she breaths quietly, happy,
And I wake up, holding only a dream,
I go to work, time passes slowly,
Tonight I hope to see her again…

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Island Queen

by on Dec.06, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

Some men have drawn lines of women that they hid,
Curves unrevealed, hidden beneath seas of linen,
Some women have revealed all to many,
Others have cautiously trusted a few to drink their beauty…

But some men write things down, impressions with words,
Words that were spoken in darkness, under sheets,
Blankets soft around, and secrets shared with love,
Cuddles with language that reveals more than naked frames…

She revealed more in words that she shared,
More than her beautiful frame could ever reveal,
She hid so much inspiration within her, ideas,
Strange mysteries that blossomed into sun flowers…

She dreamed of worlds, filled with people talking,
People working to build rather than tearing down,
Seeing a world of people finding beauty in color,
Forgetting the world of black and white from the 1800’s…

Angry words that rarely exchanged to those who need to hear,
She pours out her love, she loves the earth,
She loves to feel at peace, she cannot stop thinking,
Her mind is in a marathon with intervals of sprints…

You seem so able to understand people,
A stranger passing through a coffee shop,
You feel strange connections through,
Emotion fills the air, and yet all love…

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Petrarch’s Mystery

by on Dec.02, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

You are not somewhere you understand,
Not that you are lost, you know where you are,
But it is not the place you feel at home in,
It is an exile from that which gives you passion…

Something has not connected, loose wires,
Not that you are crazy, you know your mind,
But it is not getting what it needs to feel,
It is stuck in a place like Bermuda’s triangle…

Somewhere you will find excitement,
Not that you are boring, you always have lip,
But you are bored, and there is more for you,
It is somewhere nearby, keep looking, my dear!

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Dearest Island Ruler

by on Nov.30, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

My Narvan muse, who has been lost,
To me she is gone, although she works on,
But she has a room in my mind,
And from time to time she wanders my halls…

It’s somewhat ghostly her appearance,
Startling me with fresh insights, as I wander,
She a companion no matter where I walk,
But she rarely now seems to visit…

Another Narvan friend, beautiful, inspiring,
She now wanders through my thoughts at times,
She interjects while I am thinking and screams,
Anger that is powerful to provoke new thought…

She can cause you to lose track of time,
Drawn into depths like a diver losing air,
Forgetful as beautiful unseen places are explored,
And yet rarely forgetting a memory made…

I have grown distant from my muse,
Yet I have grown close to my friend,
And while I may never walk Narva’s streets again,
She and I walk beautiful paths that may never end…

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Our Watchful Times

by on Sep.10, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

George R. R. Martin wrote of a place,
Imagined a world that came into our minds and appeared before our eyes,
Explored another place, some have said it was alike to Tolkien’s lands,
Beautiful, terrifying, intriguing, and beyond all fascinating…

Some have enjoyed the erotic sexual exploits,
Others the gruesome violence uncensored for our joy,
But I am interested in Martin’s Night’s Watch,
Those who hold back all evil while wars rage within…

We think of this as something Martin has created, something purely fantasy,
A fairytale imagined reality, for no giants stand at our borders,
And yet, our night’s watch is much the same,
Men, and now women, sit watch over us, holding back giants…

There was once glory for those who volunteered to serve,
They serve with our leader’s word, although few died,
But they held our greatest weapons,
And prepared to end any who would threaten order…

Unlike the Night’s Watch, we do not live in a world with giant’s,
Or perhaps we have all been reading Martin’s words,
And believed there were giants prepared to end us,
Trump and Coulter’s words of xenophobia…

And we have once more, in this new age,
Come to believe more and more that the world we live in is filled,
Overflowing with danger, as Russians flood into “all of Europe”
As Syrians flee from ISIS, we are told to witness a new age…

Sadly, Martin’s world does not exist, and his night’s watch is useless,
What will our men and women who stand watch for us,
Do to stop all that stands before us?
Shall we raise an Ender to rid us of our fear?
Can we hope to see the world enveloped in flames,
Only to see its ultimate salvation through cleansing,
Or shall the world merely begin to build walls?
Or shall we build a longer table?

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Language Discovery

by on Aug.25, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

What is the beautiful thing that happens when language begins and new consciousness arrives? Something like love exists only in a meaningful way when we understand our own love of someone more than we feel love of someone else. We can imagine depths unheard before. We can envision places unseen before.

In our deepest dreams, our most intimate fears,
We fall in love with darkness and enjoy,
Freed from the doubts that once surrounded us,
Incubated, now hatching into someone anew…

Awareness by the ability to verbalize, write, express,
A dog can mimic, but cannot understand themselves,
A parrot repeats but does not compose,
The symphonies we hear grow us into new people…

When we watch “The Office” and see people working,
Realization comes that it is above production,
It is beyond the “economics” of work and capital,
We desire and watch the beauty of human love, hate, anger…

“Inside Out” has shown that happiness is not all,
Sadness, anger, contempt, and even fear all need space,
For us to find ourselves we need the intelligence to speak these “languages”
Our passion must let us cry all kinds of tears…

We cry out in anger or misery, and we are composing new literature,
When our tears of joy overflow, it is as music, transcending language,
Then our loving words heals hearts, bringing peace,
And our minds become whole, again…

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Redding Summer 2015

by on Aug.19, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

Mornings sleeping in, waking up to nephew playing “Destiny”,
Niece wearing grey and black, laughing, full of sass,
Newest Niece wearing a smile, and making me a new friend,
Two cats, one fluffy and one soft, both silly in funny ways…

There is something amazing about Kishi Bashi’s words,
His magical way of combining things, using a violin with beatboxing,
Juxtaposition is how we take the familiar and make it so beautiful,
By giving it new purpose, new energy, new unknown identity…

Waking up at Silver Lake, in the midst of a short shower,
Rushing to move blankets out of the drizzle, adrenaline,
Early morning rush, pre coffee high, laughs as the rain stops,
Here is where smiles make 27 hours turn into a week…

Where the time you spend drinking beer and wine,
Turns water into beautiful memories that may fade,
Sun turns skin dark, and prayers help souls feel peace,
And lightening shows the power of those here…

Over boulders, up into the sky, climbing in the evening cool,
Bloody toe, stubbed on the way, never mind,
I want to make it up high, and soon I will join a young friend,
And have touched the sacred tree in that place above…

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With Collaboration from JM

by on Jul.30, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

How hard must we fight, struggle to be content,
The continual festering issue of “right” and “wrong”,
How can we find happiness, in a world filled with grief,
Shall we ignore, or do we see past, or love?

Love is like showers falling on earth,
Cleaning the floors of earth with new energy,
When the world is finally resting from labor,
And all earth calmly listens to the rain…

Can we not find peace like the small creatures,
Never wishing to move trees, only when nature destroys,
Moving only to season’s tune, they live lives in small spaces,
And lives that do not feel guilt…

Does the squirrel worry that he has stolen birdseed?
Or does the bird wonder who fills the bath?
Does the water come from unsustainable methods of collection?
Have we sold Birds into guilt, as accomplices in our earth’s destruction…?

A group sat around when a comet came by our earth,
And placed bags over their heads, dying together,
Hoping to be picked up by a spaceship hidden,
Did they escape? We are still not sure…

The search for happiness will drive us to death,
Or does it let us live? Maybe yes,
Explore life, more than biological sciences,
Seek to understand the poetry of love…

Can we understand why cats and their owners have unique languages?
Why dogs try so hard to love, that they sit at graves?
These are beautifully sad sights to see,
And I cry when the images appear in my mind, and yet I am happy…

We seek long poems, the work of someone’s life,
The work of Tagore is regarded as worthless by some,
Yet he wrote not to fill the gluttons stomach to heartburn,
But rather, he wrote to give a taste, to enjoy, to discover…

“Can we work it out? Till we scream and shout?”
They sing, hoping that our dreams find us happier,
Does the reality we live in find us to want to dream,
And seek the stars for answers, instead of looking at flowers in hand…

Are we the ones in our own way?
Happiness can occur only if we stop hindering it,
or it seeks to find us if we will only stop running.
Why do we not pursue happiness as Jefferson intended

When does the pursuit end?
Do we constantly chase or is there a finish line?
If everyone pursues, we can run with them
We find people to run with and live with love while we chase happiness

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What does He require

by on Jul.26, 2015, under Thoughts on Then

But to love mercy, and justly live,
He requires of us to always love,
To pour out our deepest happiness,
And then give our joyful spirit…

To turn the sadness of children,
Into peaceful content joy in the morning,
The world no longer scary, but full of potential,
And mystery celebrated, in all life…

Seeing children holding hands, who just met,
Playing games, and learning constantly,
Lost in unknowingly exploring worlds,
Once unseen, now sparkling…

The grass outside the front door,
As amazing as flowers at Buckingham Palace,
Trees around the neighborhood,
As impressive as the Cedars of Lebanon…

When seeing and loving as children,
God’s earth is transformed, into simple beauty,
Instead of seeking “treasures” we find them,
And love pours out, overflowing our cup…

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