At this point in my life it seems as though I have done so many things wrong, and I wonder if I can ever possibly put any of those things right. And I have seen the ones circling in the desert as I have passed by, and smelled the smoke of the burning pages of all the lists of crimes and accusations. Some of those being the crimes and misdemeanors I was tried and convicted of which like a lot of things they have never both...

Sitting here as I make a crossing by ferry across Lake Michigan and feeling the old Navy terminology coming back in my mind as well as the remembered sea legs like when I was on two of the three ships I was on. And feeling my mind slip back trying to avoid those flashbacks that I know are lying in wait, and as I pass through the smoky fires of memory and glance at myself in that smoking mirror I can feel my mind slipping...

Out here on a long and lonely highway as I make my way down the line, and I know there will soon be times when my thoughts will soon be wandering like they always do. And there are the times when I can feel their eyes upon me from those I pass on by, and it shouldn’t bother me but there are times when I find myself counting as I pray to keep from exploding outward in a pattern. With there being times when their voices can...

There are moments to live, and to die along with there being people being both good, and evil which go hand in hand with the moment to stand and fight. For all from the; soldier, civilian, martyr, and victim. Not to mention all the others like the; prophet, pariah, liar, sinner, saint, fool, and sages. It becomes a moment of truth and a baptism in fire in most cases down to the last one standing on either the right or the...

It is the sort of a day that doesn’t seem to give a damn, and usually gives up on itself in disgust, with Summer being over and the skies being low and drained of colour. Seeing the dead or dying leaves hanging like crepe paper over these dirt roads I am walking down, I know these are like the times when the demons come forth and try to lay me low, but in spite of their actions and those who sit and try to judge all I am...

Walking in the moonlight and riding on feeling the rhythm of the Earth beneath my feet, and finding myself occasionally thinking of my past life, and learning how to live with memories. And sometimes wondering what others know about hope or sacrifice as soon as the lights go out, or standing up when they get called out? Yet, still they think they are the ones who were born to rise, and it should be written off as criminal...

Standing here in the far North and occasionally feeling a hot wind blowing on my shoulder which reminds me I am from a land and a world that’s a lot older than the one here. The breeze feels as if it is from South of the border and feels like I am on a wavelength far from home, where warm winds blow with heat and hard blue skies. Where the roads seem to go forever to the far horizon, far from here and wondering if I have...

Standing on opposite sides of that hardwood floor under those heavy Venetian chandeliers which were ablaze with light. I saw her standing there looking a bit out of place wearing a backless cotton dress with beat-up old Converse sneakers, in a sea of silk and lace finery and black tie. Yet it seemed as if the Tao directed this moment to happen as all parted like the sea as her green eyes locked on mine. She reminded me of...

Rising from the mist of memory are the recollections of those I have seen and known in both battle and the times in-between. With me still feeling the stings of some undone wars that still rage like a fire out of control. Making me feeling a bit unsteady and wanting to hold on, even after leaving that place that never felt like home to the one that did. And still there are those who through either ignorance or their idea(...

Everything is a form of energy and that's all there is to it, so match it to the frequency of the reality you want, and you cannot help but get that reality. It can be no other way, for this is not philosophy; this is a form of physics. And theory exists, but only works on paper and not in practice. And with every waking breath I take I can feel a form of sadness and I am able to see what life has dealt to me, and I ask f...

What is known by him and them about sacrifice when the lights go out, and when the darkness comes crashing down like an anvil? And then they wonder when some stand up when they launch their attacks, and don’t understand that when one has shed blood with another it makes them brothers forever and makes them one to be trusted. All in all, we continue to carry on knowing in most cases the life is more than what we are and at...

There is a curious paradox that no one can explain, and part of it is why we must die a bit before we grow again? In most cases it isn’t worth tears even if all spin about wearing masks and won’t bother to lend a hand. With there sometimes not being any place to go to, and it feels as if all were born in a thunderstorm and making all learn how to survive. Only being able to find solace in what some would call the stranges...

Needing some to take the look of worry off their faces, and realize I am just an ordinary man and not magnificent like I was once thought of by myself and others. Different in the regard, that I have fought for so long to be an individual, which in most cases has become a rare and exotic thing, and I don’t worry anymore about or care for their words of praise which just sounds like they are gargling with razor blades and...

Out there where the river flows, is where the desert owns all and the time has come to say fair’s fair, and a fact is a fact. The Southwestern Desert lives and breathes like all living things do, and somehow it helps this heart of mine and there is a long way to go and I know that I have been here before. And maybe one day all the sorrows will end and all the troubles will finally go. With many a road having been followed...

The hour is quiet and full of potential here just after nightfall, and I can hear what can be called a symphony of keepers out in the distance. Feeling the wind picking up, and feeling cold as if it is a harbinger of the coming winter with a taste of snow it. Seeing the strange skies as I stand here on the road in what might be called a moonlight mile with silence flowing like the airways on a radio. And taking one more m...