timwhalen.net

for joel

Jan
10

Be free, my friend, be free
Be free my brother, be free
Shake loose your mortal coil
Be free
Take a cue from the ancient dove
Or the hawk that soars above
Be free my friend, be free
Abandon your spiritual latency
Replace with metaphysical potency
Be free my brother, be free
Search for meaning on a higher peak
Oh, what havoc we shall wreak
Shake loose your mortal coil
Just wander poignantly through the psychic plain
Seek and find beauty in the mundane
Be free, my friend, the hawk, be free
Be free, my brother earth
Be free

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tribute to evolution

Jan
10

His head hung down from his shoulders
Bearing some immense weight
As if he wore an invisible head dress of lead feathers
He peered at me out of the corner of his eye,
His whiskey-charred voice gently sounded
A plea for help subtly transmitted
“Does anyone know what time it is?”
Time for the sun to rebel against the moon
Not to forget our friend,
With his head held high now,
As an officiating official
An arrogance of Hitler
And affability of Manson
In his eyes float disks of black,
Surrounded by razor-sharp rings of gray
He uses them to their best advantage
Living in a loose shell of wrinkled canvas
He struggles to break free of the gravity
That holds him wistfully to the ground
Time for the sun to rebel against the moon

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greatness?

Jan
10

I am the all-powerful
Shaman poet
I am the all-knowing
Weaver of words
I am “that one”
Friend to many
The greatness of my soul
Enhanced by onlookers
“Give me a hand, I’m drowning!”
Exclaimed from the insane waters
A hand, then an arm
Materializes in the darkness
Pulls a floundering shaman-poet
From the depths of… whatever
I am the great lord
Of lyrical mastery
I live for
The great American night
Which provides me with my visions
Which spurs my inspiration
I rue the daytime
That steals sleep
and hides my inner poet
sun beating on weary, work-worn shoulders
pushed into submission
causing lack of creation
Who are you?
A poet
A shaman
A singer
Three different states of being
Exist in all of us
The poet writes
The shaman leads by spiritual example
The singer proclaims at the front of the stage
Are you one?
Are you a combo?
I am.
A shaman-poet
It’s what I’ve sought to be
Although whatever I am
Wherever words take you, take me
I am nothing
Without the people behind me

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there then I fell and wondered

Jan
07

There’s a devil in me
But when
You see me sleeping
I’m so peaceful
I can feel you looking at me
Looking after me
If I could open my eyes
I’d see your pain
I’d feel your invisible embrace
If I could open my heart
You’d know
I was there
If you’d open the window
I’d take flight with you
Guided by the earth
Floating through the heavens
I saw you again tonight
You were in my dreams
I dreamt I saw you
Mystically floating
I saw your spirit
Swelling and ebbing
With the light and gentle wind
You were moving to the next room
But I couldn’t
I couldn’t run fast enough
Enough to catch a crystal clear glimpse
I was walking along
Blocked by your walls
I patiently wait outside, patrolling
Protecting you from all harm from the outside
The walls you consider brick and mortar
In the doorway to your heart
Crumble away in reluctant acceptance
Hiding in corners of forgotten dreamscapes
I’ve seen you sitting, quietly weeping
Behind the curtain
I was too far away
Disconnecting from my shadow
Disavowing the past
Never realizing
Your true physical presence
I was claiming
Falsely touting
That I didn’t deserve it
Through the personal wars
I never lost sight
I never lost hope
That just once,
Maybe tomorrow night
You’ll return to me
And I’ll get one more chance
To gaze forever into your eyes

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Walt’s folly

Jul
28

I fell into these riches
Sharp and green
As I roll and wonder
At the sky
I rolled over
I stared
For ages
At this one blade
And questioned
The sky
Why so blue
How so green
Yellow bees
Assaulting me
Brown bark
Shielding those
Naked trees
Away from me
For naked plants
I do not care
But look at me now
And I know
You’ll stare
Howling thunder
Is what we’ll call it
Dragging your mind
As fast as
You can haul it
How’d you get here
How fast did you do it
Ants are being antsy
Almost blew it
Bending back
Thrusting knees
Swift motion to stand
Just in time
To watch you pass
Frolic
Breathe the meadow air
That one blade of grass
Was but
Imaginary
Wistful like glass
Stained
with nicotine
yellowed but
still clear

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ordered

Jul
28

alcoholic allegory
is
bullshittery bewildering
but
cautionary caucasians
can’t
decipher democracy
and
enigmatic elegies
won’t
fertilize fruition
but
godly gifts
can’t
help hollandaise

indicative indignations
jokingly jibe
while
kooky kings
lose
malevolent miscreants

never negotiate
opulent obfuscations
perplexing pussycats
questioning quixotically
redundant resuscitations

silent solitude
tames turmoil
under uvula undulations
voracious vagrancy

when will we
Xerox xerophytes?
You yawn
Zealously.

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self loathing avoidance

Jul
28

Rough life spent in a languid void
Meandering through existence
       using loved ones as props
A lean-to shanty of a ramshackle body
Convalesced in wistfully fleeting promises of improvement
Empty-headed morose reflections,
lashed out in loosely lashed-in rafts
Only momentarily staying afloat
on rising & sinking tides of false self-penance
Flippant offerings of apologetic notecards
Discarded and gently floating down
       upon tumultuous battlegrounds
Leaves fallen from the towering tree
       silently descending and coming to rest
               on the deceased and muddy ground below

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Words

Jul
28

Words
Words. Mean. Everything.
Though some say they don’t
Some value the beauty of every consonant and vowel
Words, at some point in time mean everything to someone
Simple assemblies of strings of sentences
Complex cacophonies of verbose paragraphs
Some words can strike you down and make you feel worthless
Some can uplift you to ultimate heights and make you feel as though you can soar through the heavens
        using your interpretations as wings
Some people hold words in their heads
Many let loose their own hounds of hell in vocabulary form
Words are never meaningless
Though you can spout off random and non-sensical bullshit
        all of it has meaning to someone at some time
Everyone interprets words, it cannot be stopped
Be constantly aware that your words could be the molotov cocktail that incinerates someone’s innocence
Be ever vigilant that each inflection and context you lavish upon your words
        could be the very molecules of air that strike at someone’s eardrums and enlightens their soul
                could be the fuel that keeps them on their journey through this life
Do not fear words and do not fear using words
Even in some weird, staccato rhythm and broken intentions, your words must be released into the world
Words must be allowed to evolve and take shape and mature like the finest of wines
Your words are beautiful

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In amongst the trees

Jul
22

I ventured forth in the month of May
Into a forest, dull and gray

No voices, few noises entered my ears
As I breathed with the trees and eased all their fears
At first they were frightened, standing tall and straight
But as a wind swelled up they bore a graceful gait

Some wept for their fallen limbs
While others cordially tipped their green brims
Even more stood proudly, stretching up high
Reaching desperately at a cloud-filled sky

The penumbral puffy blanket overhead
Melted then moistened the cool forest bed
Thunder echoed and jolted the peace
Just moments later the light rainfall ceased
My newfound companions hadn’t let me get wet
Under their protective canopy, I was glad that we’d met

My boots were then caked with the dead skin cells of leaves
That had fallen days before from the towering eaves
I was lost in my travels when daylight faded
I couldn’t recall the path I had braided
Throughout this dimly lit wood
I needed to leave, but didn’t feel that I could

I stopped and leaned against a soaring oak tree
Then noticed a low branch pointing away from me
I let nature be my guide and soon found my way out
I trusted the timber and let go of all doubt
Once out in a clearing awash in the moon’s twilight shine
Quietly humbled, I thanked the trees for their time

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My Desert

Jul
22

Skin boiling
Chest heaving
Eyes dried, shriveled
Clothes torn, disheveled
Journey through desert
Quest for meaning
Shoes full of hot sand
Every step painful
Oasis in the distance
Never grows near
A mirage?
A hallucination?

Falling, now crawling
Scratching, clawing
At the desert floor
Hands bloodied
Still cannot reach sanctuary
Peace and refuge floating away
Face down on a rock

My desert
Your mirage
A blurry vision in the roadway
Your love:
My water

Arms under shoulders
Carrying, resuscitating
Refreshing, renewing
Healthy now
Atop the mountain
Perched with the hawks
Howling with the wolves
Energized by those who cared
And pale blue light of the stars

Peering down the cliffs
I see you there
You’ve found your desert
Eyes blurred with tears
Your pain mine
Your struggle, ours
Lifting you from the sand
Aloft and flying to safety
Safe sanctity of the mountains

We’re there together
Peering down
Readying for the rescue
Of another
Who’s found their desert…

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