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Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Dec 26, 2018 - 05:39pm PT
Credit: Inchworm

My Name is Lazymandius

There’s no way to know the difference
between dehumanizing ignorance
and the phony father figures
hidden among the hedgerows
of a thousand secret mazes

The mind is blind to what we’ll find
your shouted words now empty boxes

He’s not been here for ages

Ache the heart
and finally
the eye drop drips

Little birds who once told me
now silent

Ghost white sands and crisp ice havens
ground to dust up in the heavens
this I’ve told you not for naught
sure as my name is middle Scot

Three times he said

Three times bite the ear
for emphasis he’s Sisyphus
and he won’t hear for
he’s not dropped that ball in years

Lazarus knew and so did Homer

Would that they would
or so they would

There’s no way to judge the cost
for what we’ve lost
between indifference and independence
our collective cold blooded myopia
in voluntarily downloaded bits

So said Lazymandius

-bushman

Credit: Art by Art
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Dec 26, 2018 - 07:26pm PT
Photo by Corey Rich.  Enrichment by mfm.
Photo by Corey Rich. Enrichment by mfm.
Credit: mouse from merced
move forward sideways
traversing & traversing
middle cathedral
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Dec 26, 2018 - 08:35pm PT
new year approaching
it is a large white page now
so is tomorrow
Same old garbage, different day.
Same old garbage, different day.
Credit: mouse from merced
Fossil climber

Trad climber
Atlin, B. C.
Jan 1, 2019 - 03:46pm PT
Denali Tundra

Hike over the alpine tundra.
Walk, if you can, without bending over,
Walk without tasting the berries.
I can not.
Fingers are always blue now.

It is September.
Frost has found the blueberries
Mushy soft like sweet wine.
Last week they were blue-white,
Popped like cold grapes between the teeth.

Lingonberries in tight shiny leaves
Lie close in grey-green reindeer moss,
Young ones sparkle scarlet,
Old ones absorb all light
Like bits of midnight.

Bearberry too, scarlet as their raiment,
Crowberries thick on frizzy stalks
Black as their name.

Pick a mixed handful.
Taste the history of the summer.
Taste the sharp wind from Denali,
The sweet energy of the sun,
The permafrost beneath,
The essence of the tundra.

How many millennia
Have men picked these berries?

How much longer will we pick them?
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Jan 10, 2019 - 08:44pm PT
all a ‘glisten

where the cacti do wander
are them skies torn asunder
by midwestern twisters
and their big twisted sisters
aye them hurricanes
that roll up from
out of the gulf

you’ll hear voices of warning
chupacabras a ‘scorning
with their eyes all a ‘glisten
if you dare then to listen
you’ll be clacking
yer skeletons
to the sound of the wolf

as the guitar chord strums
if you’re down on your bums
neglecting surroundings
unmindful the soundings
from bottomless quicksands
those clawing leviathans
your horse they’ll engulf

at those poolside soirées
with daiquiri purées
as the eagle flies o’er
you’ll be haunted by more
meteorological phenomena
and strangely illogical
happenstance stuff

you’ll hear voices of warning
chupacabras a ‘scorning
with their knives all a ‘glisten
if you dare not to listen
they’ll be cracking
yer skulls to
the sound of the wolf

-bushman
pendejo

climber
Jan 10, 2019 - 08:51pm PT
and i stand up
and im strong
and I keep doing this

what is wrong
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Jan 11, 2019 - 10:10am PT
Credit: Bushman

Acerbumdulce Profectionem

So beautiful you are
sweet life

But afterwards...

no bittersweet soliloquies
will bring us pleasure

Chances are
we shall not see
celestial orbs
suspended by
the fractured line

Or
in a flash
all timelines instantaneous

Or love
at love’s behest
it would not hold us fast

And if all human experience
were expounded exponentially
by earthly knowledge...

beyond our deaths
we would not know

When we depart
like-minded shall we be
in all our silence...

there is that

But only in
this moment
do we know...

so beautiful
you are
sweet life

-Tim Sorenson
01/11/2019
Fossil climber

Trad climber
Atlin, B. C.
Jan 11, 2019 - 07:46pm PT
Tim -

Have you ever submitted any of your work to poetry publications?
You should.
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Jan 14, 2019 - 05:54pm PT
No Wayne, I have not...I probably should. No excuse except I was planning to start submitting to publications after I retire in several years. At present I wouldn’t know where to begin...I’ve written several hundred poems or more in the past five years.
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 14, 2019 - 05:58pm PT
bewitching and becoming
his rhyming goes a-humming
along his sing-song lines of verse
his rhythm is a curse,
but it could be worse
Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
Jan 14, 2019 - 09:09pm PT
POST NUMBER NINE ONE ONE

You? well, you & I have been here before,
Would you like to come to Ridgefield?
will Will be welcome?
Well? will we see Will two too?
will Will one want to?
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Will Will one want to what? Will two won one too Will Will one win one too?
Will Will one want Will two to what?
Will Will one want Will two to want to?
Well Will two want Will one to win one too
PLEASE DO NOT APPROACH FROM THE POSTED BEACH
right now I can't seem to find my own pictures,
So will Will's video do? Do-well Will will do
Will's will get some well-deserved views will
It not...numbers always will out
114380997steep enough?
114380438steep enough!
114429895&114430093 ?
& at a different place,
10 minutes south, 99% 5* 5.11z
("V" whatever if you will if you want with sit starts)
116153069&114294280
Well not all highball
114406378& 114294280
but why risk access?
116358115
529712




escape yourself from trance


r

twice the ferocity none of da`soft.

a kind & yet still no place to be lost

fast west slow east going to be a day of the beast

The Dead transit company moving u from home to home

third times never a charm but mostly the last, nothing left on the bone

Burr of the cold wind rising, ice and snow is coming and coming on fast

Coz costs are rising, dust in the billfold won't satisfy the jailer



tux`d atween midnight and the birth of our savior

Twixt-ta a scene of mayhem and bloody disaster

lies a kind space where love is the cover charge

no entry fee, you have to pay to getr out of the place

wasted when you get in, like Nam, its all about the routes `n toots

Struggles strengths moodz bastions of acceptance excepting lies

that was it, what`id takes to win show or just to place

a sailor knows the total disgrace when the mast fails

The boom, next, when the crack of the whip comes down




I'm gonna go have a very dark beir or ten,

don't try to tell me when, just keep pouring

I've got 7 where are the other three gonna be to come from?



we keep hearing the same refrain, over and over and over again

And don't not never call me insane

that's why I do it, to get to the same place

the same result, as small a change as age allows

to look for any change would be crazy er no doubt

the rule of the constant; nothing stays the same but change



huffer wit was sour, bit it after fifty thousand told you sows

No way to fix blown out toes feed the head with those

he woulda told ya if he werner goin' deaf now

all-out bled out deleted dead
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Jan 15, 2019 - 04:43am PT
A Brief Moment in Time

They once who
were standing there
looking on
panoramic views
subsumed within
a Cenozoic Era

The ancients stood
awed by
intoxicated
feared everything
embraced by life
then stricken down

A brief moment
in time
a window to
it’s visitors
a glimpse beyond
the antiquated universe

The scent of crude
churning up
to permeate
like peat from bogs
of bygone
years

Cold and heat
by any means
held rapt
beyond philosophy
a basic simplicity
of man and beast

As witness
it now humbles me
yet bares the point
I shout out loud
a nameless
melancholia

-bushman
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Jan 15, 2019 - 08:52am PT
walking on stilts the movie
aka Leaving Soon
the director's cut
get him a band-aid

sharp and focused details abound
my vision is acute
i seem to be walking on stilts
through time
i am greatly enlarged
overtopping giants
but really only sitting on a stool
having breakfast at the cinema cafe

i see the waitress
and she sees me
we each smile and mean it
she looks French today
with a black and white striped top
all you need is a beret
and i probably should order French toast
...but you're waffling, as usual, she notes
as she takes my order...
but chorizo scrambled English browns okay?
sure, got it
hey, she muses, nobody serves waffles much anymore
but the place at the other end of the street
and i went out into the street to smoke
and recalled when most cafes had waffles
and a grill not just a deli case with trifles
maybe the occasional mass-produced muffins

and there used not to be choices
paper or plastic
smoking or non
credit or debit
cash or check
room for cream
splenda or some other substitute
asiago or feta
wtf is asiago but a trumped-up ad man's idea, Jack?
sir, do you want to king-size that
jumbo mumbo burger a la bacon asiago Jack?

spinning around on my stool at the counter
i have dismounted from my stilts
and they lie propped in the corner
by the coat rack and ice machine

ah, the rarefied air of walking on stilts
able to view much but unable to view the future
the distance, sure, space-wise
but not tomorrow, time-wise
and my best guesses are seldom right
and more often wrong by far
it seems i only have eyes for the past
as well as a taste for a good repast
as many do who come to the cinema cafe
Let me askew, "Is there anything weird here or is it just me?"
Let me askew, "Is there anything weird here or is it just me?"
Credit: mouse from merced
ah, the rarefied air of walking on stilts

aah, the rarefied air of a few layers of grease
covering some classic movie posters under glass
mounted under shelves filled with green glass
an old-timey hole-in-the-wall
where you like to meet a friend
maybe godforbid for the last time
--hey you never know remember Joe?--
outside the art deco
of the facade and the dated marquee
add luster to the bouquet
and aroma to the ambience
and your dog is welcome if he's on a leash
and of a pleasant demeanor
bienvenido al cinema cafe

this place is run placidly
amid the haste of the modern work-laden world
it has its own conventions
and ways of doing things
and making folks comfortable
like me being able to sit here
hypnotized by the interplay of the staff
if not reading some book
or ear hustling customers
--i can't help it of course--
as i have many times over eighteen years
and like most i find comfort
among people who know my name
and treat me almost like family

in case your order is to go
remember that
being here now is not the same as
a lot like having been here then
for a business lunch
a family brunch on the weekend
a leisurely ritual coffee for the early birds
a kind cup of water for some homeless streetie
an oasis in downtown
one of the world's many side stages
where all are players
bit part or lead or spear carrier
everyone gets equal billing
and V will amaze you with her math skills

prices are subject to change
no senior or group discounts
refills are free

[coda]
the times they are a-changin'
like a busy baby's diaper
but the newspaper of record
was never sold outside
in the antique vending machine on the corner
now there is only fake news anyway
so who cares -- not the elders on their iPhones
i see universal truths from on high
and recommend stilts for all

good day, and here are "some things to share"

you don't miss your water till your well runs dry
the road to a man's heart runs through his stomach
fairy shrimps will still be here after the fall of man
don't believe in fortune cookies
--pokeyman on the go
Stripes and checks, please.  Chrissie and Danny.
Stripes and checks, please. Chrissie and Danny.
Credit: mouse from merced
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Jan 15, 2019 - 09:02am PT
Comfortable Shoes

Unexpected triggers
remind us of them
and we tell the stories
that we recall

Our woeful grief
common the thread
though some might think
they’ve heard it all

I thought I was strong
I would box and control
remorse and love’s curse
beyond death and the pain

But I’m just a child
and I check myself
in this human condition
I can yet but contain

I never wanted to be
that lost soul in the room
who never got over
their loved ones demise

But I’m only a human
with a heart that is soft
it’s my greatest strength
I now realize

Unexpected triggers
bring them close to our thoughts
I might bracket my grief
in the hustle and tide

But I cannot turn back
the hands of time
and these wounds to the heart
I won’t bother to hide

-Tim Sorenson
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Jan 17, 2019 - 09:55pm PT
They Say People Do Not Care

We were rattling along
a dusty dirt road
down in old mexico
There a lone gunman stood
who waved us over
but I said we had somewhere to go

He looked us up
and down
he took some cash
and we drove on

They say people do not care
these days
he cared enough
to stop us on our way
They say people do not care
these days
oh come to jesus
now some would say

I dreamt that the president
came on the news
not like any other day
And he said he was sorry
and he was through
giving everyone else a bad day

He looked the nation
up and down
said he’d take some cash
and he would move on

They say people do not care
these days
he cared enough
to yank on our chain
They say people do not care
these days
oh come to jesus
now some would say

Oh I saw a poor lady
out in the street
I gave her a dollar anyway
Oh I still felt guilty
but I’d moved on
five would do better I’d say

I had looked that lady
up and down
I gave her a dollar
then I moved on

They say people do not care
these days
I cared enough
to stop there on my way
They say people do not care
these days
oh come to jesus
now some would say

We woke up in the night
to the sound of a bang
something was going on out there
We heard people screaming
there were flashing lights
we were almost frozen with fear

And we looked each other
up and down
we grabbed the pets
and were gone

They say people do not care
these days
and sometimes
there is nothing to say
They say people do not care
these days
oh come to jesus
now some would say

Was an old friend way back when
followed the mean streets and
he didn’t find trouble trouble found him
I never saw him again
heard he got religion but only remember
that he was once truly my friend

We had sized each other
up and down
We’d taken our friendship
and then moved on

They say people do not care
these days
and sometimes
there is nothing to say
They say people do not care
these days
oh come to jesus
now some would say

-bushman
01/17/2019
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Jan 19, 2019 - 09:08am PT
Jon of Roc

At the Battle of Dark Star
he pulled the flag out of the stone
from the top of Temple Crag
he took it down
for the people there
and made
Third Lake
his mountain home

In the Siege of El Capitan
he fought the tourists
and the rats
then retreated
to Tuolumne
reflecting on the golden domes
a tired warrior
sun kissed

In Desolation
he was counseled by
the angels as they spoke
his trek along the Pacific Crest
twenty six hundred miles
or more
with celestial guardians
on high

At the mountain hall near Mendenhall
they slew him where he slept
their piousness masked
their jealousy
of nature’s love
and free spiritedness
their vigilante law
inept

-bushman
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