Living Beast

Generating its own light
Night has a transformed place
In this unnatural landscape

One may fall asleep
Eyes closed in anticipation
Of redefined rest
The mind conditioned
To succumb to the deep hum

That constant breathing
Broken by the siren
Or freight train’s wail
Pictures on the wall
Rattle like heart valves

Dogs in kennels
Sing a dirge
For their wolf beginnings
And as the night shift ends
The horn blasts the last call
“Go home, or, wake up.”
It’s time for school.



Growing up in a suburb of LA in the 60’s was filled with sounds, dirty air, and experiences that have never left my memory. Like the night shift blast from 2 miles away that would wake us all up. Or the freight trains that would pass through at 3 a.m., shaking up the house. We were just 20 years out of the big war, NASA kept many people employed. Small businesses were everywhere. You lived in one part of your house and had a business in another part. There were a couple of kennels down the alley that roused a lot of barking and howling. Of course, the hum of the freeways were always on as well. Growing up, we just thought it was all normal.
Now, we’re considering moving to a rural area…where it’s quiet. I don’t know. I’ve never known anything else other than the city.
“City Scapes” – Multiple exposures on one frame – Lensbaby. Prints available here:
https://bluemarblephotography.smugmug.com/Lensbaby/All-Work-With-Lensbaby/i-KwkdDPT/A

Secrets

Shadows reveal
A certain energy
Hurried
In random directions

How many times
Has this happened
How long
Has this gone on?

What else have I missed
In this world
Of fairies,
Sprites and pixies?

(2) photo manipulation – in the garden –
To plant a garden is the beginning of hope and the discipline of care.
Its creation, begets creation.

True Power

Make no excuses for yourself
And never apologize
To those who hate themselves.
A bitter outcome
Dragging us
Into their drowning pool
Is inevitable.

But know this;
We have the power
To transform hate
If it has not fully consumed
Its host,
With love.
A strength that will try us
And kill us
Many times over.

Love
Is not easy.


In-camera multiple exposure photograph.

Only Colors

Rain falls without regard
To impact and discomfort
Footprints left in the path
Waiting to be removed
When next tears flood

A constant ringing in my ears
Cries from lives lost
Climbing the crest of my soul
Pins hammered into my bones
To keep them steady

Looking for details
Searching, scratching, screaming
For details
But there are none
Colors

There are only colors

Original oil on canvas “Descending Day” 16″x20″

Feral Before Civility

A family of cubs
Encouraged to fight
Testing mettle



Was a time, when boys were told to go outside and the expectation of no contact for the entire day was acceptable. We ran and fought without permanent damage (most of the time). There were pick up games of street football/baseball. Occasionally we’d head to the school field and play tackle football. No pads or teeth guards. Yeah, some teeth were lost.
We loved our parents and listened to them closely, or suffer the belt, or switch. Stripes kept us in check.
There was an order in the group. The strongest was the unelected leader. We joyfully supported and defended him, unless he was unjust or lacked compassion. In those cases, we walked away.