Category Archives: Seasons

Horizontal Snow

A fight through the bluster, an anticipated showcase of good work, solid design, accumulating experiences cordial in nature, an announcement of trust on a belief of respect, asked, and answered honestly. Will the deconstruction plateau?

Fire

I started a fire this morning when coffee was on, at day’s end the fire still burns, my thoughts of you, like the orange hot embers, enduring and perpetual.

Fluttering Wings

Softly lips glance, silence, coy invitation, repeat, mild and uncertain jubilance, longing
If mine pursue yours it is not diabolically rather southern, how two hearts separate.
I am in a trance anxious to revisit the tone that we last resonated.
If thoughts invoke in you an energy of positivity, lighting bolts ought to be striking.
Aside, we stretch erect, fluttering, shaking the mites and dust, in advance of flight.
Being: is often surreal.
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Garage Speak

Wake up, laughter, cussing, what happened?
She is just pissed at me – why are you tripping out on me, I asked?
Hanging friends started at the Bismarck, then snuck off to the Empire…
Nice, be nice, hug be hugged, imagined sun and warmth.
South they went on to Dempsey’s…
Gad they are making out, right in front of us – fuck!?
Fuck it – I am getting a smoke, Raz just fucking does not believe me…
Says Zak

Stella the Basenji

Oh what a life, your back yard antics, pulled a dove from the air, garbled er up on the run, jumped off path for that steak in the bush, your rule of the home, that patience for the cats, your quiet demeanor, your warmth is missed. Stellaat17.jpg

Life as a Rose

A Rose is a Rose
A Flower, with Colour
Appealing in Smell
A Body Slim and Beautiful
To what shall I call you — A Name?

Ceciliav4

But why so much time spent to be as a flower
Petals flourishing for such a short time.
How long shall a blossom blossom?
A petal fall?

Peering across an evening sky,
Chifon and Blue,
I seek, but it answers not,
Or could it be because I rely only on the obvious senses?

As Light Fades to Dark
Anxiety Quickens
My Flower is Wilting
But…That’s OK

In Memory of:
Cecilia Geraldine DeMuth
Born in Louisville, Ky on January 9, 1942, Died May 27, 1994

Brother Sun Sister Moon

Walking, talking, riverside
   with two who cared, and a sweet young lady chihuahua running nearby
hearing my brother’s tones and inflections in my own voice
   with two who cared, and a sweet young lady chihuahua running nearby
few directed conversations on our shared loss
   with two who cared, and a sweet young lady chihuahua running
as though he was one of the three
   as though he was one of the one

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Requiem for Another Time

  • Leaning On the Everlasting Arm – Iris DeMent, Lifeline 2004 [YouTube]
  • Wish You Were here – Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here, Acoustic [Soundcloud]
  • Ain’t No Grave Gonna Hold my Body Down – Charlie Parr, When the Devil Goes Blind [YouTube]
  • Paradise City – GnR, Appetite for Destruction, Acoustic [YouTube]

Talking to Anita in Fargo’s airport, Cousin Jeff and Kathleen at his side, Anna riding up the elevator at the hospital talking to him, taking notes that he is alright, best thing that ever happened to him is to see mom again.

DeMUTH, DENNIS WADE, 50, of Louisville, passed away unexpectedly Saturday, July 19, 2013.

Summer Solstice

You learned from your fathers greatness, his innate shared loved, wisdom
He seemed to always buzz and resonate
Proud of his family
That I was at snowbank, experiencing what was built there and elsewhere, on the peripheral, listening
And at Ash, he smiled
Certain were his days left
The longest day his transformation
Storms and rain quenching life
Rest Bill Sr. rest

More on the Human Condition

In an instant, the unsuspected
Or we watch a wildfire jump to its prey
Walking cliff’s edge is a decision, required and not
Large eyed senses preserving breath
Sleep and dormancy as a risk-adverse principle
Live how you will, how YOU will

Shooting Star

Casino.JPGSeas of desperation, despair, sagging decay
Closer doorward some being entertained, smiles
Retina flash flash flash
Winners are silent
Killed 56 VC said the wheel chaired elder patriot
Smoke is thick on the reservation
George Thorogood playing earlier,
now even more Northern bound, and at night,
contributing to experimental evidence
to justify the truth.

Two Moons of Saturn

Discovered rediscovery, with metropolitan flare, slender beauty erect and alert, recognition even curiosity served by intermittent occultations, we seem to agree.

Does that door work?

The piled snow crunching under his feet while trotting across the span o’er the Red in search of music, his therapy.

 Dione Rhea Occultation
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Proverbs 21

09 Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife.
19 Better to live in a desert than with a quarrelsome and nagging wife.

Equinox

That balance of light and dark, that season that hastens preparation, on that day the drummer and his indigenous chant, complemented by bell ringing, sound to the heaven containing universe, as we each stand facing on the perimeter of the medicine wheel, participating in the ascension to those heavens where all essence returns to be mixed eternally with those who have gone before, anticipating those who follow, as the sun sets in a distant clear sky.

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Time to Die

Death as an industry, optimized to be self sustaining, innovation squelched to ensure profit, not life, too often shift workers lacking monastic attitudes of service to anyone but themselves.
Whose life matters but your own, and with age, that glint in the eye, that sparkle fades, eventually we give in to the invading army of bacteria, feeding on their host, as caterpillar eat all the forest, selfishly.
But in my seventy two years, I did this… I did that…, earned a few bonus years, came to appreciate my parents sacrifices for my life, but eventually its “time to die,” and my control of that day, that hour, that minute is limited—
One day we will time out before we die for man will invent anti-death, extend life for a time, and for a cost, feeding the industry of death.

Foxtrot

Summer heat prompting late night Monday ride, a short quiet pedal with a failed music mission. Returning to a sitting and silhouetted Doodle at a distance, under the amber mercury lighting, mousing no doubt, his ear titled towards a commotion that is stirred by my quiet entry, another cat, New New, ambles safely on the perimeter of the house. My pause evidenced another silhouette, that of a fox, Ruthie-sized, one of two pestering these cat’s owners who worry its apetite might include a smaller cat, although there are still bunnies, there are still squirrel, and our mousers continue a consistent crunchy diet. New nears foxy’s size, yet peanut is another story, said the eagle at the cabin on Ada…

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Life Cycles

I am a tree
— grown from the air
—- nutrients and water
—— drawn from the earth
— After I grow tall and old
—- I will be burned for warmth
—— only to complete my life cycle.

Twenty-fifth Lament (1986)

I thought my garden would be growing full
but I’m just gathering soil.
— gathering soil —
I scrape it from my wandering boots,
gather the dust from the streets,
sieve the filth from the air
— gather it together —
Then breath my dreams into it,
lightly whisper my spells upon it,
cleanse it worthy of my garden.
— and —
Here it is my life one third gone,
but I’m still gathering soil.
— gathering soil —
For the garden I thought
would be strongly growing,
brilliantly flowering by now.
— … 2011 —
At twice twenty five with one third ahead,
the wandering remains,
even as my garden bears fruit,
— still gathering soil, gathering soil —
With Tina James for Bart James, Louisville

FEAR

cutthemdown.jpg
The trees, the trees,
oh so very tall.
But lightning could strike,
and then they’d fall.
Our house, our house?
just cut down them all!

On Art and Communication

Driven by a need to link with the present or future, with communication constrained only by subjective rules, an artist listens to their id, their ego, and creates any number of tapestries which express being, and by desire influence other antennae.

Ode to the Red River of the North

Celebrate the river channel that remains true to its function, its form.
Celebrate the river channel whose locomotion would not be slowed.
Celebrate the river channel that remains deaf to the unnatural tendencies of domination.
Celebrate when nature roars.

On Human Nature and Spirituality

A condition of being human is to be subject to the limits of the body. The realization of the infinite expanse of the physical presents then a condition of inferiority, a nothingness. Cast then a extra-human state called spirituality, where we align with that infinity who is by definition inclusive. In the focused attempts to be extra-human we manage a dialog that allows endorphins to flow in our brain machine giving the impression of rightness, or comfort in some, challenge in others. Like the design when standing on a high cliff, my being flutters when approaching the danger of falling, an attempt to maintain life, our brain machine triggers a rightness of spirituality, where that inclusive All becomes infinitely lovable, or at least when our pilgrimages for truth allow.

On the Behavior of Birds

cardinals are a rare bird in the hinterland
loving the companionship of birds
as they flutter and frown
their beaks have utility in their design
oil seed for some, thistle for others
jaws covered by horny mandibles
no teeth
feeding a high metabolism anatomy
red breasted robins are of a particular interest
defined in their ways of communicating
dance, squawk, squeak
for obvious reasons,
to capture the attention of a mate
and to feed the engine that allows for the continued goal of procreation

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da

Magnificent is the time we have with those we choose to couple with, built is a shared place, western facing portals into nature, topped with endless sky blue and notable sunsets, blinders manage our perspective, anonymity, sometimes curiosity but rare, we the last remnants of the village carry on, listening, learning, being.