poem 014

in building a home we set about it, mastering ourselves through our active creating, that wide universe built inside by that same self . . . mostly unformed, rarely brought to speech, even less written or passed along . . . little fundamental connections to the grounding incidentals, bits built into the core itself immersed . . . becoming who we are: that endless universe left mostly below the level of sense we share, instead felt like a chord holding true beneath it all . . . by artful profiles, we turn it out for others to see, still mysterious because still connected below the point above which is open to simple reason

photo 007

tools for putting the body through physics and geography - one

photo 006

huckstart - 24.03.06 - another fluidity

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springsprungyellowgrass

poem 013

In Linings from Jeremy Reed

In dark matters I abound,
surrounded by walls I cannot sound,
as poet I write whatever on,
wanting paper, serves as ground.

Scarred and scratching,
the mess into heaps; eccentric laughing,
with ideas messed with grime,
I turn to forms precise,
and figure my interest pointedly.

Thus, in manner, I speak to me,
pounding a course from letters wrung,
or using my sharpened lead I pull,
a line whose product begins the start,
of a world from part I come.

From out that centre I present,
by negatatives within mind’s reform,
tending myself past the peace,
of quiet calm reigning sovereign,
where my intent always furthers
places I need yet create.

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snowgrate

webphoto 038

rockcrop