tryingpoetry

Interpret however you want

Life is too short to work with people who don't recognize it The people who live to work and let their lives pass them by

There are only so many years left Those years are mine Nobody elses I choose Where I am

I love fishing hard Through hours Starting early To see a whole tide The casting into the wind The two foot chop The hard won fish

Today none came to hand but I saw a wall of fog come over me with the wind And the mountains across the bay only showed themselves once the water had passed

The bite was sparse and cautious Except the one who bit my lure clean off And the second one who took the shiny shrimp

Walking back uphill, a mile or more With a good friend to drive home with And the promise of a warm shower

I love the overcast days The grey of the sky and the grey of the sound The beds of oysters Cobbly stones

Trees in the water Bowing to their fate And washing out past the current like a river against the shore

The jingle of a dog's collar The wet of my jacket My fingers pruning up My hat's brim blowing around

Then the slack came and the waves were lessened and there was one last bite before we were done

Windburnt and sore The body feels the tired deep into the bones The heat coming back from the shower The heavy sleepiness comes with the warm air

The memory stays The green mountains The tall firs The Kingfisher's chatter The incoming tide

Until the dreams come....

title: Working Hard

date: February 6, 2014

Soul sucking work doesn't come from working hard. It comes from working hard without hope of an end. Not an end to work. An end to arrive at.

Work is journey worship pilgrimage and the pilgrim doesn't always know what they will truly learn until the journey has come to an end.

And learning can be hard...

title: Sleep

date: January 21st, 2014

I would sleep for our country in the olympics and not just for the extra nap.

I would do it for for our country's glory eschewing a sleeping cap.

I know my mind when it's had sleep its edge sharp and bright

until I cut into my stress then I want again to sleep at night

title: The Single Minded Focus

date: December 5th, 2013

It went away I had to make friends with ambiguity smell the roses and wait

The waiting is almost over now and it came back yesterday

It crept in I lost time and forgot it's tenacity metal music marching along

The waiting is almost over now and it came back

Now we are of one mind

title: Seattle

date: December 5th, 2013

Walking the hills of Seattle many of the people are so much better dressed, I feel like a country boy even though I'm not.

Smelling the air from Puget Sound I remember that Seattle was a country boy too. All of these well dressed people are as out of place as I am.

title: Fishing

date: December 1st, 2013

I went fishing with my Mom because I learned to fish from her. The rivers of Ohio with white bass and trout.

Yesterday the wind whipped around us, but the rain held off. Only a few bites and no fish to hand.

I asked her if she took me fishing because she was worried about me.

She said, no, because you're the only one crazy enough to fish with me on a day like this.

title: My Ax

date: November 28, 2013

A purpose of the ax, sliding against long sticks of cedar, before making the fire, edge blunted that tasted concrete clumsiness.

Idle file in the toolbox knows steel and sharpness, strongly grooved, confident.

Seldom they meet, until a bird needs readied for the table, then compassion is in the sound of their embrace.

title: The House in Valley

date: November 27, 2013

I recall growing up and visiting the house in Valley. Fields my Grandpa planted. The crowing of chickens. The sweet air far from town. Walking with my Dad, tracking deer through a fresh November snow.