We Olde Boys

Perhaps, just perhaps, there's a bit of adventure left in us.
Maybe we can stoke those fires going again.
Get our creaky ships back into ship-shape.

We need to shake off this smog,
All the rain that's draining us.
All this mundane that's stacked itself on top of us.
And just... Get Out. Take Off.
See Again.

There are corners of the world we were to explore.
Remember?
All those wines to taste. Vixens to chase.
You and I-- exploding into Legend!
... In the very least cutting our names into a tree
on some brilliant coast years away from here
so all the world would know
what we olde boys had been up to...

It just doesn't seem to sparkle.
None of the constellations connect
in these little lives we've settled into.
Old hat. Old sweater.
No more tricks...

I think fondly on our days of erratic energy.
Of the maybes and the shoot-downs
and the wonder of just not-knowing
where we'd end up. Or wake up.
Or if we'd know the language.

I think revisiting the wild might do us some good.
Lets pack light, oil the olde hinges...
Perhaps, just perhaps, there's a bit of adventure left in us...

Your Name Here

Those impossible eyes,
That improbable face.
Such incredible color
in this intolerable place.

Remind me again
why sometimes I fear
there's no Heaven.

Small Sacrifices to Pele

And She creates the land
out of love and anger.
Fire black, red billows,
pillows out to make more
for us to plunder...

And She creates not
because She's lonely.
Not because She wants
all the awe and company.

She creates because it
is inside Her.
This life.
This heat.
This everything that is to be--

Succulent colors not yet seen.
The unknown, ferocious passions
of all us beasts and angels...

We walk over what has dried,
as close to the flow as we dare.
Hoping not to
c
r
um
b
l
e.
Wishing there was something
we could give, a little bribe--
a small sacrifice
that could corrupt Her
just a bit. Enough
to know a secret or two.

Explain the heat?
When will it end?
Are we going to
start over again?

No answers at all. No hints.
No misunderstandings...

There's no corrupting eternity.
Something we already knew before
dropping in...

But what kind of folks would we
be if we didn't try?