Blogging Friends

Some of my blog friends here know that I'm also a photographer besides a writer as some of my creative interest. So I really want to take this time to invite you to check out my photog blog "The Looking Glass Image" here's a link http://lookingglassrealms.blogspot.com/ I hope you enjoy it there as well, maybe become a subscriber to get the latest happenings. Well, that's it for now so go check it out and feel free to leave any comments...

Dahlia (A Spanish Waltz)

I know I hadn’t felt much like writing of late, been dealing with some bummed out feelings for a while, the type one brings on to oneself. I won’t discuss my triggers, they may be some of the same ones as yours anyway. Knowing that most who read my blogs are of a human kind and my friends here are kind humans you can probably relate.

Depression I guess is something that most of us face from time to time. Some deal with a little differently than others, when I reach a point I write. I do write in those other times of emotions too. Just when we feel more vulnerable they seem ride on our sleeves as we hold them close. With that said, I thought I would write lyrics to a Spanish waltz. As you can tell I wrote in spanish first then in english.

Please leave a comment if you wouldn’t mind, I’d had lost most of my followers here, to me is crushing enough…

Dalia (Un Vals Español)

Radiante amor
Luz de la luna de su resplandor
para el calentamiento del sol de la
mañana

Hermosa Dalia

Con gracia en una sala de bailes
Despacio
Sonrisas en los corazones
Para todo lo que toca
Todo el mundo se desvaneció

Mi hermosa dalia

Se está convirtiendo en
Un recuerdo fugaz
Para ella se ha ido

Oh Dalia

Nunca olvidaré sus dones
Una vida tan caliente

Hermosa, pero perdió
Todo lo que queda
Son estas lágrimas por

Mi hermosa
Dalia


Dahlia (A Spanish Waltz)

Radiant love
Moonlight of her glow
Morning sun so warming

Beautiful dahlia

Gracefully dances into a room
Slowly
Smiles on the hearts
To all she touched
Everyone swooned

My beautiful dahlia

Are now becoming
A fleeting memory
For she is gone

Oh dahlia

I will never forget her gifts
A life so warm

Beautiful but lost
All there is left
Are these tears for

My beautiful
Dahlia

Back On the Road

Sun is coming up just
East of Kennewick
I’m getting tired
The same old song
Of the tires on the road

Another mile down
So many more to go
Can’t think much of anything
But getting closer to you
Hope to make Billings

Then one more day
This trip will be through
It was good hear your voice
When we talked
Waiting in line to use the phone

Back out on it
Nothing on the radio
Leaving me thinking
How much I really
Don’t like being away from home

When the night falls
Tuck away in this big rig
It’s tough to get to sleep
Finally letting go of the wheel
The mind wrestles with it all

Knowing by time you get there
You will have grabbed another load
Saying your sorries giving her the kiss
Missing the wide open country

Heading back out there on the road…

Lost Dreams

I thought I knew the pain
How it was going to be
Only I’d stayed
The broken road

Somewhere lost
What was so dear
Like secretes that fell
To hollow spaces
Beneath the stones

A leaf at play in a stream
Flows the distance
Chasing hopes so clear
loosing to the waves

Holding close the time
I have left to dream
Keeping them dry
From the rain...

Thoughts and Memories of You

A November chill is biting at the ends of my ears
As I pull up the collar
Golden memories falling from the trees
Slowly dissipate with the wind

All the thoughts that built up to the day
Becoming harder to keep them straight
Ones hope to never loose
Are of those being with you

Hiding my dry cold hands
In the snugged lined pockets
Of the coat given in the better of times
There’s a key I just can’t let go

Dragging my feet to a path
Knowing too that will come a time
When the leaves thick and deep
Will had faded and gone.

Another Frantic Photographic Day

Down the lonely highways
Searching for an un-traveled road
As images scroll by
Trespassing signs fogging up your mind

You keep pressing on
For a shot that will make the day
Just one more curve
Around another hill

One last stop to get what you can
Fingers itch for another click
So many blurring the memory
Now the battery is running low

By the time you get back
Thoughts start to seep in
Thinking about what was exposed
Those settings, so many ISO’s

Before you reach a place to check
You think of all the time you spent
Feeling yourself turning gray
As you walk in door

Pulling cards, finding a reader
Looking for what you did
As the blood leaves you head
Huddle in a corner

Laptop fully opened
The lights dimmed
Sorting through the captures
Like an excited kid

Struggling to figure out
A ribbon on a larger gift
Then surprised by
What you got

And some
Were never planed
Spouting old clichés
Looking forward to another day

Pretending to be a photographer
With the camera securely in your hand
Framing everything you see
Along the way...

In A Happy Place

Another night in
A state of bliss
What a ride

Nothing is going to bother me
It’s like winning a lottery

Only if I could hang on this feeling
All of my days

I have a neighbor
Who wont listen to his kids
But gets his advice
From a pet who won’t go outside

I’d been feeling this good
Not feeling any ills
Don’t know where it came

If you ask how I got here
I couldn’t tell you with a straight face

I don’t care
Just as long as it never goes away

There’s a friend at work
Who left his home and a ugly woman
Now he’s happier
But hooked up with even an uglier one, still

The world might be falling apart
Nothing is going to cause it to shake

Things may not come my way
Everything is all right
I know I’m in a happy place…

Portabella Dreams

Sometimes I just can’t believe some of the dorky stuff I come up with and write. I was thinking of nursery rhymes and children’s stories I’d loved as a child. Then this fell on my keyboard…


Portabella Dreams

Sunrays sprays through the shutters
Sleep rubbing from my eyes
Bluebird sings the morning
Fawns tasting their first dew

Gathering fragrant herbs
Under the crisp blue skies
Welcoming a new day's greeting
From a lower mossy limb

Flowered sweeten air
Linen drape wicker basket
I’d sat by my side
Fast falling into a portabella dream

Reaching a world where dreams go
Time measured by the sun’s beams
Entering Eden’s soft place
Sitting on a mushroom stool

Making light talk
With all the creatures
Great and small
The shadow had landed on the dial

Time is short
And now I must go
Everyone there knows
I will come again, to be back this way…

To Drift Away

There’s a place where we go
A door opens to protected you in the night

There’s a place where we hide
To break away from the fears that sit deep inside

There we find a place, troubles are left behind
Darkness broken by the light

We allow ourselves to be free
Our cares float away a drift in the sky....

I’d Drifted Here and There Chasing Endeavors

I hadn’t been around for a while I very much apologize for my absentee. I really hope I hadn’t lost any of you the friends I so much relied on and truly care about in our spherical blog world we had made.

I had drifted in and around from time to time. Flying on the weaken wings of inspirations with all of you continually on my mind, slowly starving my cerebral expressive ability to write.

So I thought a little about Greek mythology and what they had to experience with the scribes responsible for the arts and penned this scribble today.


Illusory Polyhymnia

Long corridors, the cold echoes
Spills down the halls
Glimpsing sound of footsteps
Ever coming close enough
Unrevealed unrecognized.

A penned yell, “Show yourself”
Illusive sights fade
Hunger pains
For an inspirational key
Turning of the head
Warm wind fills the lungs
Silent words seeps in
Breeze without a sound

Each finger falls
Letters drift into place
Conceptual thoughts
Inks the page
Heart races
Pulse pounds
Tear soaked parchments
Pains streams into verse
Pages of words
You know hold true

A palindromic liquidity

What I Pray

One day our pain won’t lay the rules
Light fills every room
Kindness catches on

Hunger is not a norm
Selfish acts are unseen
Goes on to be ignored

When I pray

There will be an end to war
Power isn’t a payment for evil
Shadows lose their darkness
The world will be out of the gloom

I pray

Love is for everyone to hold
Bitterness disappears
And there is hate no more

The Ghosted Memories

You have yours
I have to live with mine

As it whittles away
Leaving us in the day
Where the world was ours
Now Ghosted memories

Echoes of a love
In the disappearance of time.


Like, to so many of us, feeling that she was the most beautiful woman with a voice of powerful alluring talent, ever to be bestowed onto the world and the music scene and no one has ever come close.

Every time I reflect on the times back then, she and her music is always been part of those memories for me.

As a lot of us had discovered, time stays for no one.

Happy Birthday Linda, I will always love you.

Dream of Dreams

We'd all had dreams, some we’ll share, some are like secretes we keep close to ourselves as in some type of personal sanctuary vault, with the hopes that the combination to our locks could never be deciphered.

I had mentioned awhile back that when I was so frustrated with my writings about five years ago, I had destroyed them all with a ritual burning.

Well it had so happened that I ran across few of them loosely in a forgotten storage in my humble desert dwelling of a home, carefully while on the watch of a cantankerous black widow or two that may be lingering about. I sorted through some of them, just wondering what the hell was I thinking or what girl did I think would be interested in my pocket full of my mumbled scribbles I would sometimes quickly pull out to dedicate to.

Some I may share with you, some I probable won’t, but you will have to keep in mind that these were done in a different time and place that the world is in today, that my world was in.

Some were written when I was in my teens. I was a drummer, songwriter and singer in a popular neighborhood band in the Seattle area. It was in the late sixties so much was happening at a very fast rate then.

I always considered myself to be so enriched with the cultural scene back then, fortunately I was able to be in the thick of it on some level or another. It still has so much to do with what influences of our world today and that of my own. So much so, I can’t escape it, even in my way of thinking, my thoughts and emotions, sometimes will creep in, finding them in my current writings and art, that still reflects on how I felt.

Chasing Dreams was one of those short ones I wrote back then and this one Dream of Dreams was one if I remember right was one we wrote music to.

We'd like playing in the parks such as Greenlake, Woodland, the fountain at the Seattle Center and a little park by my house called Ross Park. We would sit around in a half circle to which people gathered, it was another opportunity for us to try out new songs we were working on.

To me some of these are kind of dorky with a hint of cheesiness to them. Hey! Can’t say I didn’t warn you, I was young and flying free.


Dream of Dreams

I slip away to a place
Where no one goes
A place no one knows
I live where
My dreams come true
When I go to my dreams
There’s never no wrong
I dance to the serenade
Of my own songs
In the land of dreams
There are those who care
In my dream of dreams
Friends walk with me
For how ever long

Come with me
In my dreams
Laugh while we run
Through meadows
When comes the night
There’s no fear
We’ll sit on the clouds
Stars in the sky
We’ll wish on every one
Milky way holds
So many
The wish I dream
Is you would be with me
In my dreams
Dream all your dreams
I know it’s a place
Where your dreams
Will come true
For you too
Dare to dream
Your dreams

Chasing Dreams

I’d felt when dreams are held to tightly

Opening your hand only to loose them to the winds

There are times when it falls, far from the heart

A smile passed on, keeps it all from falling apart

In the wilderness of changes, paths may divide

I don’t know why, I will keep it all inside

It’s not the road to a goal

More due to the dreams you claim

as your own.

Road Trip

I'd been getting to know a new camera so I thought I would share one of my first shots with it.


OK! You got me, I just wanted rush on warmer weather, if this don't scream spring days, I don't know what will...

Bewildered and Dazed

I'd had been through this experience more than once, never understanding how I'd could had made it through each time. Now more than ever, I have an appreciation for life trying not to take anything for granted. So much holds more importance to me such as this blog and the friends that I had been able to share with in the blogging community. Even with all that said, I am doing well, usually landing on my feet.

The experience wasn't to long ago but during my rehabilitation is when I rediscovered writing and the blogs at the end of last year. Thanks to you all, I am much a stronger person.

Closing the door behind me
Warming sun splashes my side
Stepping onto the sidewalk
Echoes of distant noises
Something tells me
this is not going to be an usual day

People circle around me
Asking if I’m feeling any pain
I don’t understand what they are saying
The sunny skies are turning grey

Cares I’ve had now have no meanings
My body wants to drift to another place
I notice a bird flying then fading dark
Someone is calling out
Questions from the past

Then a light pokes its way from the deep
Calling for my name
I try to recognize those who are around
Feeling their hands as I still drift away

Fainting voices start getting louder
I think your going to be OK
We’re going to give you something
For your pain

Down the long halls as ceiling lights pass by
To a cold room
Where all is quiet now
Knowing something has gone so wrong
Bewildered left in my daze

Cuckoo Clock

When my grandson would come over to our place, he’s so amazed by the cuckoo clock. It would bring back the memories of my grandmother I was very close to growing up. (From my archives)



Cuckoo Bird Where Did You Go?

Tis a happy day for me
Off to Gramps house to play you see

Tis one thing I don't understand
Little black house with a little white hand

Every time, when the cuckoo comes out
I run behind the living room couch

That little cuckoo bird hid back in
Gramps! Darn! I miss him again?

To see him, I have to be quick as a hick-up
Wait 'til the big hand points straight up

Finally I get to see him, little bird I'd heard before
He came out on his perch, then slammed the door

When I go to Gramps and hear the tick-tock
I see the cuckoo bird I love so much

Up there on the wall
In his big black clock…

Are You Hungry?

A lot of us seem to have been hit with one type of sickness or another, maybe cabin fever over a prolonged winter or some been feeling kind of down.

And others had been missing in action in our blogging neighborhood, till they get feeling better. Well, we will be glad to have you all back.

I felt, I would like to lighten the mood a bit. So I thought I would post this one.

It came up when I was watching a documentary about it a few years back, for one thing I couldn’t believe it warranted a documentary. But hey, they have to fill the time slots with something right?

I used to like it at one time, before my health conciseness took hold several years ago.

I knew that there was an almost cult type following over the stuff and that Hawaii was it’s capital of consumption. Who would have ever known?

How ever I did write this just to be funny, it was one I never took very serious and I sure never planed on putting it out here.

And this will probably gross some of you out, and some of the closet eaters of the stuff, that may never want to admit it, but then that's not really the point

We need some smiles going on…

Mystery Can

One day feeling hungry
Like I never felt before
Decided to go down to the
Neighborhood grocery store

Fumbling through the isles
Looking for a tasty treat
Found a strange square can
Amongst other luncheon meats

So many ways to prepare it
You can cook it in a pan
Or slap it between some bread
With eggs and other types of ham

I prefer it with taters
Or any way you can
One thing you never want to do
Is read the ingredients of your very

Own can of Spam...

Chuckanut Bay

Setting sun as to put the world asleep
Last of the golden light
Slowly fading behind the islands
Dark coal blanket the pinhole sky
Just enough to let some of the light
Reveal the San Juans out across her lap

Mother, I called out to her
Nature snuggles gently to her bosoms
All that is pure in her woods tonight

Answering back a rising lunar sphere
Outline a doe and fawn

absent of daylight colors
Orcas enchant as sirens of the deep

Feeling safe in her arms
She comforts me
Drifting off in my own repose

Wakening by a familiar bald eagle
Acting as a sentry
In the morning twilight

Miles of plush velvet clouds
Laid out across the bay
high up
In solitude

Chuckanut Mountain

Corcus in Snow

When I seen this picture it reminded me of this poem

A few of weeks ago I was looking for a poem I’d had written couple of years before, my brother wanted me to find one he’d remember and I’d didn’t. Some of you may remember, titled A Child’s Angel.

Some of you that know me, my style, is that every now and then I like to write in the simplest of forms. I just like the impact better sometimes.

I’d had found several that I will eventually post, when the time is right. This one is on the same line, of my series of the simple pleasure poems. I’d had already have some of them in earlier post on this blog, one titled Question is one I did after I wrote It’s the Little Things…

It’s the Little Things

How can we ignore
The simple things

As a child smiles
In the rain

Sun’s rays
On a Cold day

The smell
Of breakfast
At camp

How can anyone ignore
What I see
When I look into
Your eyes

Feelings of the heart Of whom We don't even know

Young love

An elder’s admiration
For each other

Or ignore the
Sound of an
Enchanting melody
Of a small wooden flute

Sunbeams through
The trees
On the forest floor

How can we ignore
A kitten’s cry
For a mothers milk

A single crocus
In the snow

First opening
Flower
In the spring

How can we ignore
Little things

That makes
Us
Whole