in the world

my thoughts come out

like journal entries at times

and maybe someday people

will wonder what

in the world

it’ll always be crazy—

the world that is

individuals existing simultaneously

and simply trying to be

as we are struggling

to understand the purpose

if possible—

probably not but

enjoy the ride I think a lot

and have some hang ups

feelings at times like a cold splash

of water on the face on a slightly

cold night something goes wrong

and anger will rage like a fire

that can’t be contained

got me thinking what

in the world

leaves crackle as I walk

to my new spot

in between 3 statues

symbolizing peace as I try

to be there when I am here—

peace that is

with any luck the thoughts

will flow today and my pen catches

every one before they becomes leaves

walked upon until only ground

remains my path to peace

takes many forms but words

mostly are the result

long nights alone

and days filled with beautiful sights

new life right before eyes trying

to make sense of decisions

made and unrolling the regret

using it and it’s frustration

to help fuel positive future endeavors

including anyone involved

a struggle of their own

against the mind even when

going with it where it may lead

there it is it didn’t even take long

look into the stars the universe’s

journal and here I am thinking what

in the world…

daylight fades

they give it because it’s known

that I can take it

almost expected at this point

something would seem off

if things were any different

knowing how to walk through

the fire helps the burning feeling

ease away I know they all care

but sometimes words are all I hear

when the days gray finally gives way

to an hour sun give that hour

to my son if I had one

but my only progeny are these words

and thoughts they will fade

behind the house

my spot in the shade

garden empty now season

to rest before rebirth

on the other side of winter

still more than a month off

old thoughts reborn too

blowing all the dust off

old books making room for the new

got a room with a view this time

taking mine with patience

rising and using the night to extinguish

any negative with positive

in these eyes…

clarity

today weather

cloud like let it roll

in with me last night

short visibility

still clarity

unlike before
finally in the right place again…

cut the cord

as usual waiting

on a possibility

damn near certainty

that I will wait

and be waiting when

the messages come

that I don’t have to wait

anymore what do I know

about anything anyway

only visiting because

already in the area

and keeping me waiting

because it’s known I will

wait months even years and

still keep communicating

somehow having to learn

to cut the cord has

always been tough…

third person letter

today he wrote a letter

to me in the third person

detached from all the reality

he knew his inspiration and passion

caged and his freedom suspended

in time a long time to be alone

with the mind detached from

the self that got him there

reemerging stronger and wiser

absorbing thoughts inspiring

the new self behind stone walls

and steel bars none of which

can darken the connection

to the universe ever present

ever since all at once

each day must drag

then wake up to another gone

positive reinforcement

stronger than the concrete floor below…

it's ironic

when I talk to people at this time

they say it’s ironic it

happens to be when I reach out

for someone to connect with

pass it on the left

still got to grab it

with the right hand moving

this mind keeps playing

no matter if no one is listening

the trees still crash in the woods

behind this new spot

so many ideas like leaves falling

the slightest sound

lost an hour of light that’s all

still have time

out under the blue

before it goes dark

not irony just the time

so beware you might receive

one if you aren’t busy

look at the clock

face the wall do what you want

pay no attention put down

the thought and take a walk…

still beyond

all this time

just really want to find out

who I am probably

but I could be wrong

learned that in those gypsy years

stolen with all the jokerman’s music

lucky for the memories

and digital technology

the gypsy can rot now

as she did before eyes

fully opened six hours

all it took to undo

eighteen hundred and twenty-five days

time since spent rebuilding

where I once was and beyond

now seeing with more than eyes

understanding a different sight

one within and somehow still beyond…

cold hands moving

cold hands that sometimes ache

not complaining really

knowing I work hard with them

possibly too much and they crack

as colder weather approaches

still not complaining only trying

to figure out why the thoughts

come out slow

when I know there are so many there

too many to ever really keep track of

documenting with cold hands

that never get held

there is no one by my side

anyone although plenty around

keeping thoughts positive and focused

on true freedom not confined to this page

this room this city back home

in the shoe just like I used to do

without a clue who knew back again

this time with a plan

successful as I can with

pen in hand…

somewhere I can think

who knows what

the night will bring

sirens and marching band drums

in the distance and the silent sound

the wind brings with it

brought me to this spot

something nice about my born town

no matter what anyone says about it

people live in fear of what they think they know

nothing about playing drums in Champion Day Parades

when the Marvelous One rolled through town fresh off

another big win still too young to appreciate

old enough now realizing the significance

who knows what this night will bring

chill as this night settled in

and grounded leaves can’t keep the cool breeze away

but I know she is cold never was cool

lying under foot now hear the crackle as I walk

a little taller shedding all that dead weight

flashbacks seem to be under control

wrong decisions all forgotten

now where was I going exactly

before I got de-railed exactly

no where important

better off now right where I am

somewhere I can think…

late night unusual

late night unusual

brain swells

thoughts leak

sometimes convinced

sleep could be optional

at times usually thinking

as I drift into unconscious thought

clouds inhibit dream sequences

still sleep soundly

instead wish to watch

the night gets darker

then first light will be seen

tiring and needing to recharge

the mind never stops

controls it all even the rest

the minds keeps on

late night unusual thoughts

stirring so late as if answers

found in the back yard shoe city

where the champions

came and went controlling the mind

as a champion would

one kind or another

thoughts so random but regular

going unnoticed like planes

painting the sky gray by afternoon

pretending we don’t notice

most likely for the best

and the thoughts keep flowing

and will not stop who am I to get in their

way back to when I thought I think

too much but there is no limit

the mind controls everything done and undone

who controls the thoughts

nonstop late night still unusual…

mind pirate

the mission has been clear all along

document everything with whatever

implement is closest

pen pencil computer phone

sure about keeping my end of the bargain

again finding movement

across pages to come with ease

the mission continues and builds with time

release thought capsules

not even asking for a lot just enough

to keep the momentum forward

readers interested in thoughts

from a random mind

pirate reading absorbing sounds from

all around nothing is as it seems

you should know this by now…

seven years away

at twenty I think I knew

things aren’t actually as everyone around

seems to think or believe or accept

almost twenty years ago now

over sixty books filled with the most random

as crazy as Rodrigo thinks I am

wouldn’t change that questioning mind

the one that won’t accept the story

the way they tell it got to find truth

details hidden objected to the first war exposed to

couldn’t understand why teacher

seemed to believe the lies and not ask the questions

twenty years of war and economic roller coaster rides

nationwide guided my decision to get a job and keep it

younger than friends never followed the flow

sometimes even walked up stream and left everyone behind

as I wouldn’t walk away seven years away from this home base

possible the rest of the years spent here

so many have been so many places

possibly envious of that

got at least twenty years to work on what comes next…

find the top

the pen will just go when you let it

memories come and go

but importance won’t let them be forgotten

the power of words the camera for thoughts

resist a certain stagnation that seems to persist

plow right through even if only on off days

you won’t find the top if you stop when you cough

keep on pushing you have somewhere to go

pick up the shovel could be dirt might be snow

never know so get moving the song

to myself puzzling the pieces

rearranging true wealth

thinking of all the other minds

ones met along the way so many far behind

right here now attention to poor to pay or

stick around a corner sharp to every move

still bobbing this head naturally in some hypnotic groove

still sure I have a story to tell just don’t know where it is at

tried sitting and letting the pen move

twenty-5 years done that now

need to find more eyes that still read

open wide to thoughts that might surprise

instead stay hidden in the maze of a mind

trying to find the top

and daily amazed at the mind…

believe nothing

don’t dare question

what’s accepted

and walk out of line

it won’t do you any good

and everyone will think

you are being negative

or crazy or some other shit

they make up to make

themselves feel better

but if you think for yourself

how can you accept

all that is accepted

question everything

and believe nothing…

no more wrong direction

today I sat on a stone

slab near a waterfall

watching the leaves fall

like snow catching

all off guard wishing

words to do the same

scattered but persistent

words stack up

like balanced rocks

proving they can withstand

the elements the mind

never seems to shut down

confidence builds every day

wrong direction no more…

just begun again

spent the day outside

warm for the fall

as leaves slowly

float as the warm breeze

takes them from up high

soft landing next to me

and all around

like a child chasing and watching

one as it comes down

mesmerized all over again

inspire writer’s first sunrise

through trees instead of over

water sparkles through trees a little

later how many thoughts

will be enough of has it only

just begun again…

stacks of rocks

in the backyard again

man made stone walls

and stacks of rocks

and I know the man

who carried or rolled

each stone put into place

everything fits perfectly imperfect

leaves falling at and on my feet

and into this book

where thoughts take the form of words

all I know piles of words

everyday ones to describe

or legitimize this much thought

wishing to paint but it would probably

come out as words

might be the quickest way

for thoughts to inspire

colors changing daily now on trees

above the clouds move quick

below the blue in the race

to wherever they are going…

under this stone

someone probably said it better

than this but still I

give it all I have pushing out thoughts

whether they are relevant or not

whether they even get read or not

that it matters to me might even be

secondary first of all get it on the page

detached from any rage

once felt now sun shining

down bright and new

warmth felt as if for the first time

hand goes numb from writing

for the first time since being back

home where I learned nearly everything

done here at one time or another

closer to the family proud enough

to bring me back always there

to help me find the track

to the greatness random and obscure

might still be unknown

climb high on the pedestal

kept under this stone…

find the realness

got to use what I can

where I am where I have been

so many years ago and here I am

back again and I know I left

try to find the realness

ever since I was twenty-two

years old it’s when I went

out on my own

never really been on my own

and everything I have with me

is really all I own

got to bring something new to the table

don’t believe most things people tell me

media hype etc. my mind is logic

enabled and hard wired to doubt

most of what is heard

barely trust the written word

unless hand written

on thoughts that might be forbidden…

flip it over

flip the book over

and skip a page

new spot

old spot all in one

somewhere to call home

spot family close

small community

one goal live free

somehow navigate

the matrix progression

through unlearning too

un-conditioning…