Sapphire Beside Me

Sapphire beside me
Horizon flat ahead
Punctually delayed
Allowing movements
And moments in time to gaze

The fulcrum point
between existence and mysterious
Too foggy for memory

We can reframe an unfilling past
To charge a refreshing future
Devoid of expectations or itineraries

These hours are only for us
Curled between Egyptian cotton
Woven in Sudan
Purchased at an Muscat souk

These hours are only for us
To stimulate senses
Of tactility and grace

Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On with Uncle Weed #123

Humble Boys Hard Land Weed

High in Jamaica, Uncle Weed visits Black Ras’ abundant mountain growfield to discuss “swamp weed” grown in morass versus “hard land weed” grown in volcanic soil with bat guano, plus varieties of ganja strains – both domestic and imported. Plus background about his family teaching him the ways of growing most anything and living an Ital lifestyle.

Head to the hills for: Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On with Uncle Weed #123  (.mp3, stereo, 30MB, 14:44)

Continue reading Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On with Uncle Weed #123

Onward, upward (poem from Deb.)

My dear counsellor – who helped me so very much when “the wheels fell off” with sickness, death, career disruption, and finding new self with advice about letting go and floating – is travelling, writing, meditating, learning, giving… all over.

She wrote this gift and sent to me.

Martha's Vineyard (by Deb)
Martha’s Vineyard (by Deb)

Onward, upward 

Let the fresh air
float away distractions, unnecessary cares.
That tendency to carry sorrows
of others, in your heart, in your bones,
need burden your spirit no more.
No sense heaving that lore.
Your best
was,
and is,
all you need deploy.
And gift
that inner critic
a swift kick,
off the gentle path,
irregardless of where it lands.
Nature’s recycling
will reliably,
re-craft it into her hummocky soup.
She handles erosion, far better than you.
Let your sweat
effuse
forgiveness, toward you, from you.
This life, these acts
weren’t meant to be perfect, wise, exact.
You’ve learnt vast
lessons
from
endless folks of your past.
Expend unwisely no more!
Instead, embody your
fortitude,
as we redwoods majestically do,
Your bod grants you a naturalness,
this
style of presence
– to exude.
Venture now,
liberated of unwarranted strife,
boldly stride,
up nature’s steps of life,
allowing
supportive connection,
when you need or like,
or when it’s most wise.
You sweet soul,
Onward, upward, lithely glide
up, up to luxuriate in the sun’s inviting light.
Retreat mediation room poetry
Multiversity 1440
Scripted by DebJoan Hall-B
March 15, 2018

Towards the Yangtze

1

4AM Shanghai
Me, insomniatic as usual
Watching light rise
Through pollution skies
To illuminate building designed
By a committee of Dr. Seuss, Salvador Dali and MC Escher

The ship pulls out through endless gauntlet
of all the ships in the world
Each their own world
Tiny houses on giant barges, flags, cigarette and a wave

2

Yangtze River wide
As a sound
Cozy as an African watering hole
Herds of barges graze
Like wildebeests lady to fall into stampede
When hyena party boats of wedding revellers disappear into dark,
Moored behind elephant cruisers
The bulls wait beyond the marsupial floating dry docks
Holding wounded deer craft
Under gaze of manicured obedient flocks
Of bobbing cranes
Feeding vibes into yawning hippos accustomed to melons
Catamaran racers lean into wind, puny sailors lean to balance for the watches and cameras
As peacocks might
Beneath windmills grindingly faraway wheat

3

The wagon trail of floaters
Parade through river intersections
Obeying crackled jargon appointing times-subject to change
From typhoons, tainted waters, tides and an abundance of caution
And negotiation
Then the dispatch arrives
And like preschoolers, holding a string
The horizon redefines with tankers
Containers, cruisers, scoopers, prospectors, fighters, seekers, and free radicals
Bearing industrial names
Referred by diligent tugs
Pilots breakwater boundaries
And the wake and buoys ahead
Soon they will diverge to transient paths
Using similar charts
And common codes

Wildflower (for Foster)

Words by Dave Olson with Mikael Lewis written in Pokhara, Nepal
Music, vocals, guitars Mikael Lewis, recorded in Utah, USA

##

Wildflower (for Foster)

Foster can you tell me
where the hell you left those tapes?
I was riffing on my first guitar
you were mouthing poetry scapes

I’d go to visit your gravesite
but I’d hate to waste that precious hour
you don’t belong in flat mown lawn
when you are a wildflower

Recorded in my parent’s basement
our earnest, green, unflinching truth
unaware that three short years later
you’d be cashing in on your youth

Don’t need to pour one out for you
or leave a fat one rolled
I’ll just light the signal fires
To make sure your story is told
The tale of the wildflower

I ignored their useless platitudes
self-serving, cliched and quaint
You and I both know what the truth is
And so I share this brief lament

I visit you atop the mountain
Where freedom lives and truth is found
When morning light first hits that meadow
I’ll have proof that the wildflower lives

April 1 & 2, 2017
Words by Dave Olson and Mikael Lewis
Music by Mikael Lewis

 

Cold Water Flat (song)

Wonder Hotel

Words by Dave uncleweed Olson (written in Pokhara, Nepal) with additions by Mikael Lewis

Music, vocals, guitars by Mikael Lewis (recorded in Utah, USA)

##

Cold Water Flat

Landlady’s always angry
So I keep strangers hours
Meditate to TV static
Decorate only with the freshest flowers

Use the payphone down the stairs
Still has that old rotary dial
Instant coffee in electric kettle
Takeaway leftovers wrapped up in foil

I will wait in this cold water flat
Rent paid out 3 months in advance
It’s lonely, but I’m not alone
I’ve got memories of you… for to keep me warm

Registered under a fake name
Though I’ve really nothing to fear
Endearment terms are always wide open
And your affections are always quite near

Hot water register yawns and moans
Damn thing either freezes or it burns
Three tarnished coins run the washing machine
Dirt spins round and around as I yearn

I’ll wait in this cold water flat
Yes I’ve mailed you a dark scribbled map
It’s lonely here, but I’m never alone
I’ve got memories of you…to torture my soul

Gave up on the smokes and the booze
I like to think I’ve paid all my dues
Now my addictions are much more complex
I just torture myself with my memory of you

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