Gregory Canyon Morning

In the woods I feel like a philosopher, all perspective, wily and grizzled. There are no cannons or fortifications of flesh and bone. The universe' missive is clear and cold and comforting. "we perish each alone" she says through the brook pounding it's way down the canyon, through the million solitary pines who brush each other in the breeze, but never speak. In this stoic house I watch and weep, ponder and rejoice, at the beautiful tragedy each day brings.

Splash

My mom just found one of the poems I wrote back in 1994 stuffed in a closet in an old notebook and sent it to me. Certainly a sign that it wanted to be published...

SPLASH
Animal hunger cessation
The stone stops
in mid flight
Looks up for instructions
then plummets
Through the evening sky
Through dusk
Through eternity
Curtsy and
SPLASH!!
The waves ripple
slowly towards shore
Overpowering current,
Nature disrupted in an instant
The stone, unaware and uncaring now
of its effect on the surface
lilts lazily from side to side
On its own path,
Its own luxurious ride
To the sandy deep.

Written November 25, 1994

copyright 2009 Tim Wolters

Salvation

In blank spaces
in between the trees
where I've walked
with the secrets
of stones and creeks and grasses
only given to
insouciant passers by
on their way to death
with no time for anything but truth
with the trilling sound of worms
rising
in chorus to meet each new day
filled with echos of laughter
we used to bring with us
in back packs and school lunch boxes
when we missed our mothers and fathers
long gone on roads of their own choosing
with blame
and convalescence just a phone call away
that never gets made
because we're so fucking wise to god's ways
and how the puzzles get played
into the darkness we'll go
amazed, amazed at how little we see
on these back roads, these side roads
so sure of salvation
and knowing
one beautiful day she'll come

copyright 2009 Tim Wolters

Passport

Passport

just once yearling
rise above these eaves
escaping gravity
and soar through the heavens
grown deeper than imagination
to that place that never sleeps
and always plays
some song or other
on the wind
where laughter never fades
but sits in that moment
without care
alive and being

copyright 2009 Tim Wolters

VU Meter Flicker Sound

I have dozens of poems and not sure where to go about publishing them, so at risk of alienating the entrepreneur/technologist/socialmedia/triathlon crowd ;) perhaps I'll put a few here. Any and all feedback welcome.








A VU meter flickers.
Out of habit
I cannot walk
Or cry, or shout.
I can no longer
Walk along the deserts
Or tropics of your
Imagination.
In code we trust.
No longer taught
By the hands, the lips,
The bones of our elders.
Indeterminancy corrupts
The spirit yields
To non life forms
Now mobile and embedded
In our structures.
With prescient care she approaches
Me
Wan and recently lost
From the umbilical pixels
Born anew into
Smooth and painful
Analog space.
Her hand now upon my chest
Exploring downward
Hoping for acceptance
Teeth bared I'm
Awakened Awakened
To this new world of old.



copyright 2008 Tim Wolters