Sandpaper

Sandpaper

Yesterday
I wrote just a phrase
in 0.7mm HB lead
on a yellow sticky note
and that is how
a poem is conceived

Like that first spark
that draws the eye
creative desire plays
with the words

And you ask,
What was the phrase?

"grit comes on sandpaper"

As I mull over the phrase
I think much has been made
about the grit of people - courage, resolve

Yet, just perhaps…
to get to that grit,
the other grit is required
the grit of sandpaper that 
smooths out the rough character

The extra coarseness of 24 grit 
removing the chaff
then moving through the refining
to coarse, medium, fine, and very fine
 
Exposing and polishing the wood grain
highlighting the beauty
that lies just below the surface
so I can accept the stain

Poem 21-337A

#highplainspoet #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife

O' Yellowstone

Memories float like cotton on your water

O' Yellowstone your grandeur and beauty

which is more cherished

experiencing you or sharing you as a family

Like golden hair wrapped around your sylvan neck

gracing the shoulders softly upon a maiden's breast

strands of water course over the edge of the Lower Falls

awestruck breathlessness settles as if a second first kiss

Lake Yellowstone crowned like a queen with majestic peaks

in a soft purple pink gloam at dusk

a finger tracing chill gathers crawling up one's spine

that intruding feeling of gazing on an intimate moment

Old Faithful spouting off like a best friend

belching forth steam and spewing water

drenching those who dare get too close with bitter waters

just as quickly receding back for a magma recharge

O' Yellowstone sulfur permeates the air

as if hell has opened a portal

a feeble attempt to

draw the eye away from you

Chill of 7000 feet in a tent in early September of 09

elk in rut calling out mixed with wolves howling

O' Yellowstone's soothing serenade

beckons us to stay and gaze upon you more

Poem 21-170

@highplainspoet, #highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife

Nature, beauty, Yellowstone

Image is © by the poet, taken in 2009 of the Lower Fall

185 words

Fall Murmurations

Fall Murmurations

The beating of hundreds of wings
swiftly passing overhead
a murmuration
in daring contortions

The chattering looking
for a place to rest
soon alight in a cluster of trees
making a ruckus as if they brought
the party with them

Poem 21-312B
@highplainspoet
#highplainspoet
#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife
#murmuration
#poetry
#poem
#poems

Backer Rod

Backer Rod

As I look at the crack
in the 100 year old concrete
thinking, there's a place 
for backer rod and caulk

Then I ponder 
the cracks in my soul
somehow backer rod won't work
it doesn't go deep enough

The depth of fracture clear
I'm in need of a kintusugi
where I'm welded back together
with gold, silver, and platinum

 
Where I become the art
to the Master Artisan's craft
restored and priceless

redeemed

Poem 21-304y @highplainspoet on ig
#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #redemption

What is kintusugi? Go to  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kintsugi
learn a little more.

On Poetry

 On Poetry

Poetry moves the heart 
reminding me of 
the reality, that beauty
is
art.
 
Poetry, or is it beauty? 
They weave tightly together 
and draw my soul 
like a moth to the flame, 
soothing the pain 
in the space created, 
that's too big for words. 
My heart and soul 
are naturally drawn to beauty.
Reminding me 
I am created 
in His image,
beautiful. 
And in this fallen world…
 
He takes in all of me 
-- the broken, damaged, abused, and abuser parts -- 
and restores me again and again in beauty.

He doesn't see as I see. 
He sees beauty in broken people, in me, 
who He loves to:
re-create...
re-store...
re-story...
re-turn...
to His original intent

...(wait for it)...

And His beautiful love, my friend....
That is,… poetry!!!

Poem 21-301A

To My Coworkers

To My Coworker

I see you…

I see you carrying that burden
shoulders hunkered
beneath the weight
of vaccine mandates

I see you…

Now wondering,
will I violate my conscious
and prostitute my beliefs
because I need a job

I see you…

I see you on the precipice
in weighing the consequence
between conscious and responsibility
all the while your will being broken

I see you…

I see you slowly dying inside
expected to work with soul bent
grieving a time that will be no more
when we treated each others choices
without threat to livelihood

I see you…

I see you wanting
to just live your life
being left alone
pondering if you will ever
sleep in peace again

I see you…

I see you carrying it home
the contention in your home
spouses not on the same page
rift that splits between the sheets
the mandate weaseled it's way like that seductress

I see you…

I see you coming back in the next day
bent a little more
tipsier than the day before
weariness rooted in your eyes

I see you…

I see you and

I offer you my ear
to offload your burden
if only for a moment

I see you…

I see you and
I'm walking
down the same path
waiting to hear

I see you…

21-291Z
#highplainspoet

Chasing

Chasing

What I thought was love
was really me chasing God
in a way that didn't bring life
only led to me performing for Him

And…

that is no way to live

Love is a mutual chasing
where we run and play
moment of intimate embrace

Then…

playful glint in the eyes

As we start the chase
that flips from time to time
in pivots and sharp turns
until we tumble into one another

Poem 21-277A 
#highplainspoet #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife 
#play #joy

Crossroads

Crossroads

One of those hot humid Illinois summer evenings
where fireflies blink like my synapses firing
putting dormant memories in a new context
while I feel the humid breeze and hear the corn grow

Places that creaks like that old wooden screen door,
the slow draw on the spring that groans in the stretch
until it lets go and the wooden slam
another Truth breaks free onto the front porch

I sit with him, Truth, on the porch swing,
we rock back and forth stirring up memories
like those cheap snow globes, one of those souvenirs,
in hopes of bringing back the emotions of the past

Reconsidering judgments made that smothered
all relationship, a saboteur of myself
without realizing what I was doing…
now I stand with Truth in the crossroads

Poem 21-200B
#highplainspoet
#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife

Nashota

Nashota 

Beauty that once ran free
lifeless and cold 
in the autumn morning chill
stunned by the unexpected loss

To see hopes and dreams
without any breath
like an icy plunge
shocks the system

Still expect to see
you in your place…

in the herd…

in the rhythm…
 
of the in and out parade to the pastures…

Instead, a bare spot
in our field near a tree
where you were
laid to rest

That's what processing grief
looks like today

Poem 21-270y
#highplainspoet
#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife
#horses
#grief

Nashota passed away sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning. Stunned to find her already gone in the morning. We buried her yesterday, Sunday, in the northwest field about 20 yards northeast of the turtle tree. It is where she once ran free among the herd. She was with us for 17 years.

Skipping Rocks

Skipping Rocks

On this last day of August
a brume hangs in the morning air

one close to the ground
a gray mist that floats like a willow-0-wisp

A lot like my thoughts
that skip about like a rock
side arm thrown to skip across the water
finally losing momentum, sinking out of sight

I pick up another one and toss it
are there enough rocks on this sand bar
to toss all of my cares into the water one by one
where they tumble against each other in the current
until they are polished smooth

Maybe... 

It would be better if
I wrote the name on each rock:

fear of…
anxious about…
worried about…
reconciliation with…
connection with…
past sins…
family fractures…
covid stress…
my own immaturity…
failures as a father…
failures as a husband…
failures as a son…
missed opportunities…

a belly dump full of regret

Poem 21-243y 

Image taken in the Snowy Range by author (c).

Home

Home

A warm meal

A warm conversation

A warm heart

A warm blanket

Soft cat snuggles

Wet dog nose bumps

A mother's supporting comfort

A father's tight embrace

A familiar bed

A full refrigerator

Pile of shoes at the door

Togetherness once more

Poem 21-065z

#highplainspoet

#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife

September

Morning light of late summer
softly filters through their tales and manes
a glow radiates in morning gloam
until the sun fully breaks above the horizon

Gloam fades and softness lifts
as if I've woke from a dream
perhaps this was a taste of Eden
as continue my walk talking with You

Poem 21-252A

#highplainstpoet

#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife

Gift of Another Day

Eyes open from rest
letting soft light of predawn in
like the blinds that allow
cracks of light to form shapes of what’s around me
 
The in-between of morning
like a ship passing from
one current to the next
catching a new wave of life from God
 
The gift of another day
to be human and walk
in communion with God
as originally intended
 
I am not alone
He walks beside me
He knows me and
most wonderfully of all
I know Him
 
Dwell in that place of being known
allow His presence to engulf me
healing and restoration
just flow in being with Him

Poem-202A

#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife

In the stillness I wait for You

    once I feared You wouldn’t come

    and now I know You’ve never left

 

You are like my skin I wear around

    impossible to remove

    wrapped tightly within and about me

 

I remember how I used to panic like

    a young child when I lost a sense of You

  now I know Your presence is within me

 

I didn’t know that Your Spirit dwells deep within me

    that all I have to do is turn and look

    and there You are in our sacred place

Poem 21-202B Untitled

Instagram @highplainspoet

 

 

Sometimes

Sometimes

 

Sometimes

Sometimes

Sometimes

   beauty is found 

       in a weed.

Poem 21-202c

#highplainspoet, #nebraskathoughtsandlife, #nature, #beauty, #paradigm

Red Elderberries

 

Red Elderberries

Regret like red elderberries against lush green

stain relationships with shame

until able to see with new eyes

how scars create a new beauty

along the fault lines of life

Poem 21-200y

#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtandlife, #redemption, #healing, #hope

Image © by author, taken in Spearfish Canyon in the Black Hills.

Drops of Dew Gather

Drops of dew gather

on tips and blades

teardrops that pull

verdant green

onto the knee

in humble prayer

Poem 21-197

#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #prayer, #nature, #beauty

What Our Love Feels Like Today

What Our Love Feels Like Today

Cloaked sunset like a closed curtain

teases my hazel, sometimes gray eyes

to take that second look

knowing the next thunderhead builds

Thunder's low rumble causes

the ground to quiver

as if the fear of the impending outburst

will rattle the windows and doors

Spider webs of lightning

lace the platinum silver horizon

rain approaching like a plague of grasshopers

'til it comes in sideways

soaking anything not wrapped

like an iphone in an anti-theft case

The instant temperature plunge

like a dive into a robin egg blue mountain lake

that invigorates in a polar bear moment

with heart stopping excitement

of my life shared with you

Poem 21-195s

#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #love, #joy

Not So Bad

Solicitude wells up like that unwelcomed guest

that comes at the most inopportune time

like when the timer on the stove is going off

and have to pull the pizza out of the oven

Change creates a moment of lip licking

contemplating a new response

while fear wants to shout at me like my

little league baseball coach when I strike out

Then just sigh as I process the mental gymnastics

swinging between the parallel bars

gyrating hoping grip holds

desperate to nail the dismount

The adrenaline surge when it's over

and wanting to do it again

learning it wasn't so bad

didn't even hear the crowd

Poem 21-194v

#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskthoughtsandlife, #anxiety, #change, #fear ©

Blazing

Blazing

Platinum sky
a gossamer sheet
smoky haze 
bashfully veils
the sun

Vivid tangerine
sinks below the horizon
leaves that soft 
sunset orange afterglow

Linger as the gentle breeze
brushes against damp skin
that matches the sunset
of this mid-July day

Poem 21-193z about the sunset last night
#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #western_US_on_fire, #beauty_of_sunset, #high_plains, #western_nebraska

Pilgrimage

Pilgrimage

That crooked road
winds between bluff and canyon
through passes and onto plains
looking for internal manifest destiny

Caught in the open
storms that weep ice
heat that sucks life like a leach
sting of the not yet home

Poem 21-192x
#highplainspoet, #nebraskathoughtsandlife, #pilgrimage, #home

Soft Words

Soft Words

Soft words float in the evening breeze
like the cotton from the cottonwood tree
dancing in currents of air
lighting softly on only to
be caressed in the wind and
carried away once again

Poem 21-191y
#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #love, #tenderness, #intimacy

Stripes

Stripes

Merging stripes us
in tints of velvet cake red
delicious to the eye
seduced

Poem 21-190y

#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #tulips

Somber

Somber

The melancholy cry of a dove

emotes the moans of

what's been locked away

all of these years

Dampness of morning

still clings to leaf and blade

as grief evaporates with each moan

in the warm breeze of pain

as time frozen parts thaw

Shamrock green of early summer

before relentless heat withers

leaving only roots and nubs

tears like rain trickle down

finding the genesis neglected

from generations past

Soon an oasis appears

from tears planted

the well tended internal garden 

where hope springs

that life rises from ashes

Poem 21-190z

#highplainspoet #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife #recovery #hope #redemption

Buffaloberries

Buffaloberries

In the irrigated grass, down the hill
a doe stands meandering until
she senses me and Molly the dog
in the distance, we at the top of hill
she down below in a standoff of sorts
until she has enough and goes under
the three wire fence and glides over the electric fence
to the edge of the property where 
buffaloberry bushes and scrub blend her
invisible to my eye so our walk can resume

Into the pasture where the gurgle of water
rushes through plastic ditch and
boots splash in song with the satisfied loam
Molly pauses to cool her paws
always on the lookout for the wayward snake
today the shovel only is used to 
deflower those invasive Canadian thistles that
easily breed like rabbits to ravish a pasture
with thorns on the thistle and deceiving purple bloom
a twist of the beauty of a wild pink rose 

Poem 21-186z
#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #summer, #ranch_life

Hush

Hush

Last night,

another apricot sunset

leaves parched lips

puckered in anticipation

of a sloppy wet kiss

This morning,

the young doe rises

 in the long shadows of dawn

 from the verdant alfalfa field

leaps gracefully over the electric fence and

concrete irrigation ditch in one smooth motion

in a reminder of the beauty of God's creation

So I pause once again

as the babbling of water

through blue and white plastic ditch

calms my wound tight heart

pondering how the holy hush of daybreak seduces

and remembering His goodness to me

Poem 21-188z

91 words

#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskthoughtsandlife, #nature, #beauty, #holiness

Come and Go

Come and Go

Ebb and flow
  they come home like the rising tide
  excitement of son and daughters
  reunited once again
  unloading the car at the door
  like a cargo ship at the dock
  they are in between ports
  today they are safe at home

Poem 20-229A from 8/16/20
#highplainspoet, #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife, #family, #empty-nest

Epigenetic Memory

Epigenetic Memory

Midsummer's heat
relents in the cascade of dawn's
long rays of soft yellow that
dance upon the golden corn silk
stalks waving in the Nebraska breeze

Awakening this buried place of haze
as walk upon parched earth epigenetic memory
of a slight taste of Eden's glory
a shadow of former days and
days to come

Poem 20-230A
8/17/20
#highplainspoet #nebraskathoughtsandlife #nebraska #nature #redemption

Gnaw

Gnaw

It's one of those fourth of July's
that wrings the moisture from the air
where the heat is stifling
like a suffocating wet blanket

Pasture's thirst for water
greedily gulping in the irrigation water
having to add plastic ditch to
prevent it from dehydrating the next 90 feet

Horses miserable in the stillness
tails swooshing attacking all things buzzing
bucking when can't free from
tormenting horse flies who win leaving a welt

And here I am observing it all
drenched in sweat fending away
all the mosquitos and gnats
that gnaw at the ankles

Poem 21-185y
#highplainspoet #westernnebraskathoughtsandlife
nature, summer, heat

Unpredictable

 

Unpredictable

Summer on the high plains

is as unpredictable as a politician

in the morning starting out as friends

by evening cursing like sailors at each other on Twitter

The rain of yesterday hammered in fury

a gully washer with intermittent pea size hail

like a cowboy without a spittoon

spitting away with that cheek bulge of chew

It did clear the air between those politicians though

like one of those infomercial things

wondering if the warranty is good

because of how the parts don't quite fit

Meanwhile, back at the ranch the wind is stout today

out of the southeast with a sticky bite like hard cider

that's never good, its an open invitation for another storm

fermenting this afternoon like the head on good amber ale

Less than a month ago on a Sunday in June

with malice the sky opened

raining golf balls like lead grapeshot

shredding the siding like harsh words on a tender heart

The insurance check came two days ago with

the unwanted strings attached to it

the lender like that unwanted investor

gets their say in how we repair our own home

So, in this sticky air I'll check the irrigation early

to see if any of the syphon tubes have plugged up

irrigating is a symbiotic rhythm of having horses

so when the cold winds and bitter chills come they stay plump

Maybe I'll find another red-tailed hawk feather

those small things that catch my eye

I carry it as a trophy as I walk through the fields

letting my thoughts fly around in dizzying circles

Poem 21-183y

263 Words

#highplainspoet

Just a summer day in July and practicing using metaphors. © 5 minutes ago, Brian    misc • life • rambling • ranching   

Upon the Wind

Upon the Wind

Like the ache in joints before the storm
memories ride upon the wind
with highs and lows expanding and contracting

Dust swirls upon tongue taste of you
before the first drops of rain
upon this parched heart

Soon softened as thunder booms
shadows of past flicker with each lightning strike
exhausted in the aftermath of the deluge

Poem 21-135z
#highplainspoet #nebreskathoughtsandlife #love #memories #journey #relationship

Thoughts

 Thoughts

 Over the years

    the ruts get deeper

     as remember all the times

       together we've traveled

 

Tree roots

   like fingers

    poke across the path

     tripping me with fond memories

 

A bed of pine needles

  line the sides of path

    and fresh pine cones scattered

      randomly in the worn ruts

 

Just like my thoughts

 

21-099z Thoughts

A poem about walking in the Wildcat Hills with memories of our kids and family hikes so many years ago.

#highplainspoet #nebreskathoughtsandlife #family #memories #journey

January Lingers

January Lingers

Dull blue gray lingers upon the horizon

like the neighbors stray farm cat

reluctant to leave in hopes of finding

one more mouse or unwary bird

Gray black fear hovers as covid's effects linger

masks hide expression once exposed

distance kept to calm anxious hearts

intentionality in every action to calm soul

Tracks of snow linger where tires compressed

two ribbons of white remain surrounded by

wet brown sandy loam desperate to drink in

the remaining ribbon tracks

Barren branches linger with a few stubborn leaves

brittle and brown holding on to the past season

reluctant to let go until there is something green

to release themselves into like a bad memory that cycles

Poem 21-030z January Lingers

Hoarding

Hoarding

Interior clutter with years of accumulated debris
all the work to purge years of now useless things
beliefs that no longer produce fruit
branches hang barren and lifeless
no blossom of fruit

Left wondering why clung so tightly to the trunk
what was so comforting about the bark
that pulls off in my grip exposing the deadness

Perhaps it is time to let it go
grieve the loss and enjoy the warmth
burning the trunk and humus brings

21-032z