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| So,the Doctor says you have six months to live.What do you do?
It has been a while since I was here and so much has changed. Met a wonderful woman,fell in love,got a house,got cancer,lost a lung,got a tumor in the brain,taking radiation,feeling weak,can't write anything,have good spirits,but I seem to be missing something. I wish I could find my way back to the Rock where I had so much strength and in-sight.
I will try to write:
Long after the mountain has washed to the sea,so much sand on the beach.
After the earth moon and stars no longer are there.
When even time and space cease to exist
There will still be love | |
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I had a birthday last week and was left wondering one thing;How did I get so old without ever growing up?
I was also amazed that I have gotten as far as I have. When I was 18 and in combat I thought to get to be
21, having traveled, been in love, fought a war and made the kind of friendships forged only in war,that I
would have led a full and meaningful life. At 21 I was a reckless thrill seeker with a very real kind of death
wish or at least an adrenaline addiction and thought 30 would be a fine goal. At 30 I had to start worrying
about jealous angry husbands,fathers and brothers.When I had chidren I just quit thinking about it until
recently.
"It seems to me that there used to be more stars
and they were brighter"
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| I have a redhead in my life right now.
She is a sweet kind patient soul so
this old song is definitely not about
her.
She showed up at my front door
with a dog and an old suitcase
Red red hair bright blue eyes
and a we'll have fun smile on her face
Now I should have turned and ran right then
but instead I let her in.
She took my hand she led me off
and my world began to spin
She bucked me she bronked me
She threw me up into the air
She stomped me she chomped me
You know I didn't even care
She used me she abused me
She treated me like a company truck
But I still thank the heavens for her
and my good luck
It has been a while since I have been out to the Rock.
My life keeps changing and it gets hard at times to go
get up on top of that big rock and look around.
The desert of course is beautiful,green, and full of
life this time of year,especially since we have been getting
rain.
I hope , no need , to get out and smell the wildflowers.
Dawn is here and I have to start work.
Brujo | |
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The Right Thing To Do
I gave up the hoping
the wishing you were mine
I gave up the trying
haven,t done that for some time
I gave up the wanting
though I still dream of you
But I'm not even going to try
to give up loving you
Because my love for you's the real thing
it don't depend on anything you say or do
My love for you is a good thing
brings me joy makes my heart sing
so I'll just keep on loving you
because loving you is the right thing to do
They say that if you love someone
you have to set them free
and they'll eventually come on back
if its meant to be
I don't know they may be right
it was never up to me
all I know is my love for you
is what has set me free
Because my love for you is the real thing
it don't depend on anything you say or do
my love for you is a good thing
brings me joy makes my heart sing
so I'll just keep on loving you
because loving you is the right thing to do
Getting over a broken heart has always been a primary muse
for me and maybe the subject of more poetry and songs than any other
topic in history. I have been accused of holding on to a broken heart
long past its natual life just for the inspiration to write.
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There was a parade for Veterans Day in Phx. yesterday. I have
marched in everyone for thirty years. Many of my brother Viet Nam vets
seem to live their past war experiance everyday. I do all of my stuff on
that one day of parades, ceremony, and reminicing at the bar.
I tried for years to write about my time in Viet Nam but have never
gotten anything on paper. I worked on a piece called "Unspent Soldiers"
but there are some things I just can't write about. I did evolve another
idea from all of the time I used to spend on the Nam poem. It is and has
been a work in progress for more than twentyfive years.
WISDOMS WARRIOR
Love is not a weakness
but the strongest of shields
Kindness is my only weapon
and for it there is no defense
The greatest Victory
has not a single casualty
But before all else
the Warrior must conquer himself
It has always seemed to me that people are always at their best as they
seek the truth or knowledge. It aso seems to me that things start going
wrong as soon as we think we really know something.
Anyway, from the rock, have a good-day. | |
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When I decided to keep my journal with the perspective of
"sitting on a rock in the desert",I really didn't anticipate all of the
consequences. Every time I want to write in my journal I end up
sorting through an awful lot of memories ,or maybe topics is a
better word, in order to get a good view. A mutual LJ friend refered
to the rock as a "retreat rock" and although I understand how one
could see it as such it really is to me more of a big rock to stand on
to get a good look at the universe. When I seek a retreat I do it in
my room with drugs whiskey and a yellow legal pad. On my last
"retreat" I was working on a song that went:
Drinking whiskey and writing sad country songs
and in the morning thats all I could remember,(I should probably
say that was meant to be funny in my dry folksy way.). For me a
retreat is for introspection and the rock is for observation. I can
see an awful long way from the rock.
The rock was never a place to write or compose before. It
did once appear in a song of mine.
I am a rock I'll be a mountain
My love for you is carved in stone
Some come and go but thats not me
A mountains for eternity
This morning, from the rock, it is dawn just before sunrise and
there is a high broken cloud cover moving in from the west and it
is the color of rose wine. The eastern sky is golden to blue with
Venus shining brightly. I can also see that there is still so much
I don't understand.
I've looked in all the corners
retraced where I have been
went back to the begining
looked forward to the end
I've asked all of the questions
tried to look it in the eye
waited for an answer
but still am wondering why
Will it always be a mystery
will the pieces never fit
for inspite of all my efforts
I really just don't get it | |
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It has been very dry in the desert. There have been drought
conditions for years. Normally there are two short rainy seasons
and two batchs of wildflowers and grass. This year, just about
nothing has come up and that affects the animal population.
No vegetation, no little critters for the coyotes. It also affects the
deer, cattle, and the wild horses that come over from the Gila
River Indian Reservation. They aren't mustangs but a combination
of run aways and let go's . The herd grows after a few years of rainy
seasons and shrinks during droughts .
There are few things more beautiful or exciting than a herd of
wild horses moving at a slow run going across the desert or con-
verging on a waterhole. They are herd animals so when you see
one all alone you can just about figure there is some trouble.
She was a young and troubled pony
started wrong and kept real bad
But she never lost her spirit
or the troubles thay she had
She was stubburn sleek and independent
been that way since she was a child
But never learned the differance
between running free and running wild
He was a tough and wise old cowboy
With a thousand tricks to turn her head
But he loved that troubled pony
and knew inside she could not be led
So for her he left the gate wide open
She'd come by shy once in a while
Never let him get to close
But always left him with a smile
I have gotten in trouble in the past for comparing women
to horses, but really there are strong similarities in how I
deal with them both. I often think that if I could restrict my
life to dealing with dogs,horses,small children,and women
on the dance floor that I could be the happiest man on earth.
Its sunrise,its beautiful out,and its time to go to work. | |
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| Still being new to all of this journaling stuff I haven't been sure
what to write. I have always written,almost every night,but only a
very small fraction of it ever saw the light of the next morning.My
editing process went like this, write it down,throw it away and if
you can't remember what you wrote the next night then it wasn't
worth keeping. This journal thing is differant ,but still I have to
decide what to write.Do I comment on my everyday life,or do I
just post poetry or songs?
I decided that I would write from the perspective of an old man
sitting on a rock in the middle of the desert. It is always been my
practice to write of what I know and who I am and that is me. I am
an old man who sits on a rock in the desert and trys to pay attention
to everything around him.
I live out in the desert
the rocks and I we get on fine
We dance the dance that shamans dance
and drink the cactus wine
There actually is a specific rock out in the Maricopa mountain
wilderness,which is in the Sonoran Desert National Monument.
I have spent much time there and it is ,for me,a place where I
can see the whole universe,a place of power. I can almost always
transport myself to that rock for the purpose of perspective. I see
much more from there than from any place in town and I see things
more clearly.
That is my plan,at least for now.
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| It is a beautful morning in the desert.
The sky is clear and dry. The temperature
about 60 and there is a soft breeze. I
originally went out early to hear the birds
morning song but was immediately taken
by the full moon. When the full moon is setting
in the west the sun is at the same time rising in the
east. There are spectacular sunrises out in
desert to start with but add the moon setting
all the stars and planets,Venus was as bright as
a headlight ,and the many shades of red blue
and black and this morning was very special.
I have often wished that I could paint a morning
like this or a sunset as I see them,either with
paint or words.I once tried to write a song
about that desire.
No you can't write a song about a sunset
There just aren't the words that will do
Of course that is as far as I could ever get,(yuk).
I did however write this poem on another morning
much like this one.
You are the sun the stars the light of the moon
I find my way in the dark
You are the wings that would give me flight
My feet are safer on the ground
You are my dreams of yesterday and for tomorrow
I live only for today
I do spend a lot of time out on my rock.It is where
I keep my cosmic perspective and I do need to stay
in touch.
I should get on with my day now. | |
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| I use to work all week six long days
without a human being in sight
with one good horse and a real smart dog
I rode the fence made sure things were right
one night a week I'd go to town
to buy my groceries and have a night
six days a week I was all alone
only one night a week I was lonely
It was a cowboys paradise
out in the desert mountain wilderness
with mile and miles of no one
but alone ain't the same as lonely
I had my horse my dog my truck my job
my health and my good luck
I had just the life I wanted
It was a cowboys paradise
Then I met her It was love at first sight
I was like an ice cube in the sun
I melted right there but I didn't care
I thought my future had just begun
It lasted a while then she couldn't smile
before I knew it it was over and done
She turned being alone into lonliness
and ruined my cowboys paradise
I'd been a happy man with a simple life
she turned all that upside down
my horse ran off my dog turned sick
and every night I go to town
and wander through the honkeytonks
looking for what can't be found
She turned being alone into lonliness
and ruined my cowboys paradise
It was a cowboys paradise
out in the desert mountain wilderness
with miles and miles of no one
but alone ain't the same as lonely
I got my horse my dog my truck my job
my health and my good luck
I had just the life I wanted
It was a cowboys paradise
She turned being alone into lonliness
and ruined my cowboys paradise | |
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sonoran_brujo's journal