through castles and red land

You can spread your life
over miles and mountains
wandering this way.
Or you can drown
in the temple fountains
pushed by those who pray.
Your beard will grow
you may lose control
of the smile on your face.
Or you can shave it clean
never fail routine
keep the dust off your feet. I'll sit on your doorstep
strumming my ballads and blues.
I'll busk through stories
married to my tunes.

You hold your breath and cringe
while your children grin
and ask "is listening a sin?"
You say "son he doesn't know,
but he's lost control,
he's smoking and breathing in."
"Is this true?"
They are asking you.
"Is his soul lost to the dark?"
Cause in this man there's peace
though his face is creased
his eyes are like a kings. He's perched on a rooftop
Where he drinks to his ballads and blues.
Overlooking a city that's salty
he's amused.

You can live in the valley
in your own way be happy
but your chaining up a hound.
Get your head out the window
shut your eyes to the wind
though in your ears it whistles loud.
Stop time in the canyon
wander through castles and red land
let the river float your soul.
Volunteer the erosion
of lackluster emotion
melt the stones weighing your mind. You’ll feel the carving of centuries 

none other than ballads and blues.
Dig your toes in the dirt and it’s doubtful
you can lose.

when i grow up

i want, to fish with a 14ft rod and take mountainous breaths. to labor under lamps over strange and outdated instruments. to write and read, be a discoverer of language. to grow and be a father to gardens. to sing and be sung to. to learn more than teach, but teach nonetheless. to play tennis till i collapse. to sit for long periods of time and feel no pain. to stomp and get rowdy with late night music. to run in large chunks, with healthy feet. to eat perfectly, without remorse. to sleep on couches and not worry. i want green fields, white lines, and 22 humans far more often.

thriving is

I was born in Bowmansdale, Pennsylvania. Best thing is, the Yellow Breeches Creek flows nearby. Worst thing is, I now live half a world away. Good thing is, there are rivers where I live now. Bad thing is I can't fish or swim them with my brothers. Fortunately I am surviving. Unfortunately surviving isn't the goal. Thriving is. So I am finding new brothers and wading new rivers.

independence

Independence is overrated

and exploited

and dangerous

and lonely

and vast

and heavy

and revealing

and startlingly enough does not

equal Freedom.

utah is to blame

pennsylvania

is callin my name,

and utah is to blame,

for my wandering

has shown,

that there's a sickness...

called home.

i'm getting it

not sure why my mind is so wrapped up in rivers of late

but it is, and i am. left imagining.

the course of life on the Yellow Breeches

and a spring run hailed the LeTort

numbness is creeping into the bones of my feet.

getting cold feet. or is it hypothermia

two years into life miles from

a pennsylvanian jungle.

but humidity and mosquitos,

ticks and poison ivy,

guard even utopia from the faint at heart

from those who don't belong,

those who are convinced that

bigger is better.

farther is further.

louder is fuller.

i feel the river cooler, the water smoother

and im ok, need a break, but im getting it.

the freeze is now over

What's the hurry
what do you see that I don't see

my vision is blurry
but I am fully real.

You've lived in your parka
since your youth
the deceased

but the freeze is now over
so is disease.

Once you were naked
again you will be

who will you be holding
will you bring peace.

You lived in the forest
till you learned who was king

now remember your brothers
and teach wondering.