Tanked

The sputter can surprise us
Running wide ass open
Taking no prisoners
Casting laughter like caution
To the wind
Blowing up a storm of passionate dreams
And friends cheering us on

The road turns, twisting
Thought and perceptions
Into unrecognizable shards
Broken, poured out, spilled
Across memories of tomorrow’s
Dreamers awake
When the fuel of creation
Runs dry

Thus fools rush in
Where angels fear to tread
And shout
"Fill’er UP!"

An Evening of Musical Empowerment

Saturday evening I had a disturbingly wonderful night of music thanks to the folks at Mack and Mack Clothing, Triad Acoustic Stage and the Queen of the Eighty Eights – Kelley Hunt!

Ok, I must confess that prior to this event I had never even heard of Kelley Hunt. How my life ever had the illusion of completeness without knowledge and experience of this woman’s music, I shall never know. Her art, passion and superb talent reached deep into my spirit and shook out, up and over my blues and boogie-woogie.

Google her up and take a listen. You will be glad you did – otherwise, completeness will remain beyond your grasp.

Be sure and check out her songs 'Mercy' and 'Love.'

Relief

Wandering in the woods

Or In the mind

Of seasoned 'scapes

Brings reasonable

Lavish dreamers

Hopeful clarity

Congruence

I believe we all wander through life, at times or for a time, cloaked with various masks, skins of textured facades, living as much with our fabricated external selves as with our inner truth. Therein rests our deepest self, the pain, loss, ache of life’s journeys won and lost. Therein lies that being so often sought and revered as the true self, the real us – with its’ complete measure of joy and depth.

Yet, is either the outer or inner more real? Are we not both mask and soul?

The beauty and grace of the dance, without the well hidden strain and sweat of the all but stumbling artist would not exist, nor would the precarious effort have any value, but for the fabric of the art finding form.

It is a dance, of sorts, this thing we call life - isn't it?

Spanish Moss

Spanish Moss

Clinging to branches among the oaks
Timeless observer of time's passing
You sway through breezes and revolutions
Directing humanity's passage
As if orchestrating a divine symphony

With nothing but a wisp connecting you
To the lofty vantage from which you
Observe us, coy and unaffected
Your slight presence fans our dreams
As a winter wind stirs the smoldering fire

Little more than air feeds you
A hint of sea salt to spice your tasting
Of our adventures and chaos
You remain, lingering luscious
As the memory of a lover's sigh

Eternally upon us

Spanish Moss

Clinging to branches among the oaks
Timeless observer of time's passing
You sway through breezes and revolutions
Directing humanity's passage
As if orchestrating a divine symphony

With nothing but a wisp connecting you
To the lofty vantage from which you
Observe us, coy and unaffected
Your slight presence fans our dreams
As a winter wind stirs the smoldering fire

Little more than air feeds you
A hint of sea salt to spice your tasting
Of our adventures and chaos
You remain, lingering luscious
As the memory of a lover's sigh

Eternally upon us

Success Is When You Win

The Pelican

A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His mouth can hold more than his belly can,
He can hold in his beak,
Enough food for a week!
I'm damned if I know how the hell he can!

-Dixon Lanier Merritt, a Southern newspaper editor and President of the American Press Humorists Association, penned this famous limerick in 1910. It is carved in stone and displayed prominently at Brook Green gardens in SC.

Watching several Pelicans feed in the tributaries of Murrells Inlet, SC, I was taken by how often they fail to catch fish. It is fairly easy to mark a successful dive, as the stately bird will raise its beak skyward to send the fish wiggling down its gullet. I began keeping score. I counted a total of twenty five dives between four birds and could only verify a catch seven times. With a slightly better than 25% success rate, these gobbling fowl still are known as great fishers.

I guess nature confirms the old saying, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”

1. Hunger for something will keep you trying.
2. The pain of failure is quickly forgotten once the benefits of success arrive.
3. Never give up.

On Having Lunch at Panera

The din resonates
Countless voices frantically
Proclaim facades and personas

Below the cascade
Simplistic souls stand
Wall flowers alone and longing

Within, a voice asks
Shall we dance?

Free Dive

I thought only death would be so peaceful
My ears are useless, muffled, and deaf
I don’t breath now, lungs stopped, idol
My heart slows, relaxing under increased pressure
Sight is all that remains
And that an opaque vision of color and life

I can’t stay here, not and live
This momentary peace must yield
To the screams of my lungs and flesh
So I head toward the surface
To the world of air breathing creatures
And over stimulated demands

Note: On free diving in the Atlantic near Bermuda.

In From The Sea

In From the Sea

When the wind blows in from the sea you can hear the

crackle of palm fronds breaking free from the heat
hiss of sea oats defiantly bowing inland
whisper of sand celebrating its lofty release from gravity
sputter of foam cascading skyward cut from wave caps
chimes of delicate shells dancing across dunes

When the wind blows in from the sea you can hear the
prayers of ancient mariners reaching home