Travel is like

Grasping moments
Stuck in a film reel
glazed, looking through
opaque frames
broken glass, rearranged
without rose color
glazed over
seeing clear
like never before

June 28th: Summer Stand Out

It was the day Alex knocked on my door
and I was still in the shower.
I was fed up with the day
Fed up with the way
I had to pretend to like this place.
Where the beach was barricaded
with mile-high condos
For private guests with codes and passes.
The string of public sidewalk
took a fat fee to park.
Like nature gripped by capitalism.

But an overlooked turn-off
just before leaving the island
down a dark winding road
led to a trailer park emptied into one tiny bar
And a pajama party in the name of Spam?
made into cakes, dips, and little models of the town.
We hid in my car and pushed the cork through the wine
And jammed to a band going back in time
All ages moving and grooving

I knew you would have loved it
And you kept the night going
with the pleasantly unexpected.

Bookstore Blues

Odd
Starting to enjoy your life
You realize you'd been sitting
Traffic stopped looking out
a rainy window because
your connection is lagging

Waiting for service
frustration built up
and then creeps out
Traffic is flowing
And you keep going

Paying mind what's going by
You cannot deny
connection with a look
the poor man gazes from his bike
you standing barely hidden from the rain

Smoking a dirty cigarette
laughter and nick names
happy to be welcomed
Wondering if a place becomes more
Knowing you're about to leave

Inspired by Highways and Punk Rock

Corner by the highway
what's left here are
crumbs and seeds
leftovers, new beginnings

Packing up
your whole life in a car
city night lights
welcomed through a fog

the pit
where people push and pick you up
sweet smell lingers
sweat and hand-rolled cigarettes

planting seeds
where you leave your foot
the pacifist leaves
for all the reasons to be angry

Liberty or some other word

Politics are not too much more than a huge popularity contest. From a middle school election for class president, low blows are just as relevant. Throwing your opponents under the bus, pointing fingers, superficial advertising and exaggerated promises are all common practice. The sense may be, initially, that we vote someone into office to represent us. Like we are passing on some responsibility. And while this may be true in most cases, the amount of power we have collectively cannot be underestimated. Politicians aren't going to shut down very popular ideas because they wholly rely on the people to maintain their position. They follow us.
And this is the best argument I can think of to give to those who feel no responsibility to be informed about the world. It is ours. So long as we don't allow our passions and concerns to be swept under the rug of complacency.
Libertarian-ism though, without a doubt has a structure and ideology parallel with my own. People should be free to do as they please as long as it doesn't infringe on the rights of others. In particular, the government has no real obligation or authority to dictate the lives of its people. But this philosophy also comes with (at least with some) an annoying sense of self-righteous blaming of the state for literally everything. When there are so many gray areas, it's difficult to really identify with one political philosophy. And even it was admitted, at a state-wide conference, that there are many circumstances where an over-arching philosophy or practice cannot be interpreted and applied.

In my view, neither side really has the solution, or even pinpoints the true problem. The left points to big business as our enemy, calling for government regulation to maintain accountability.There is no question that capitalism often overlooks risks to health and the environment in the pursuit of profit.

But proponents of capitalism, having a basic understanding of economics, know that businesses only respond to the demands of consumers. The free market will give rise to products, services, and practices that people support and will buy into. It is to our own benefit that companies compete for our dollar, raising the quality of goods and services and honing in on our specific preferences. Government regulation is the enemy of this process, requiring permits and causing other restrictions on competition.
However, people cannot want what they do not know they don't have. The level of corruption in our current system has come to mean that they often work together instead of keeping one another in check. The world is quite phony.

Restless night

If there is to be some individuality stemming from the soul,
I think I must have once lived in a totalitarian society.
Creeping corners after hours
I expect to be called out,
as if someone is waiting in the empty but fully lit buildings around campus.
I'm on edge aimlessly walking
to fill what has been walked flat
a coliseum of natural form
Reality on display

Wander freely in breath and thought
On a roped off dock
a calm coolness and light stretching to the depths.
Drawn to a concept of ourselves
over the only medium we cease to live.

For the Love of Snow

The transition from bustling city to peaceful country-side was like a gradient of cluttered noise inside my head. At the end noticing the stillness in the frozen peaks and open sky as far as I could see. So much so that I noticed my breath that much more. The sound of air flowing through my nose and filling my lungs, so cold that I could feel this path it traced in my bones. This quiet cold was one that I only ever wanted to watch from behind a slightly fogged window. Only now I was contained in this moving train mesmerized by its gliding through fallen snowflakes. Vast white presence was symbolic of purity, but covered nothing that seemed remotely alive. Life would surely come again in Spring, as it always had. Something about the snow felt so calm and reassuring of this, with the freedom of new beginnings.
I thought this rather comparable to the passing on of our loved ones. We are sad when they are gone, just as winter brings a hardship due to frozen stillness. But life will come again. Through underground processes unseen we spring back to life. Reminiscent of last summer, but looking forward to this one. The freedom that comes with new life.

A Hammock at Sunset

Cicadas

Chirping louder

And louder

Give way to the songs of a dozen nameless birds

The bug on your back

Is no more than the first beads of sweat

Sliding down the crease of your spine.

The sky baby blue

Clouds spread like cotton

Give no indication of scattered drizzles

But does the air

A blanket of moisture wraps around me

Closing me in

Looking down the surface of roads so flat

Dropping only to ditches and canals

What remains of Florida’s blood flow

Puddles around the attractions.

To drive from the sea

Beyond the first hills and easy places to spend money

Cut me with that crisp chilly air

Wrap me in wool and send me

Sliding wearily down the mountain

Heavy boots on wood cabin floors

Watching flakes from basement windows

Underground

Sipping your only warmth

Hiking Fire Prairie Trail Solo

I can feel the long stalks of flimsy wildflowers

Clinging to me as I pass

Getting to the end

A goal with little purpose

Why is it so appealing? Wide open spaces

Sea, Sky, Mountains, Prairies,

A perfect hammock spot between palms

Passed up just to keep walking

Everglades Internship: Week 1

Collecting unique or beautiful or useful plants

On the sides of a dirt road

Creeping smoke from distant wildfires

Driving in pouring rain listening to heartfelt songs

Excited by crossing white-tailed deer

Moving through layers of sparkling showers

Coming home to three men with three fish

Staying up late, picking our brains

Leaving the leaves on mangroves

Lining tunnels from the backyard

To the ocean

Learning tides by a sinking island

Landed for camp but later abandoned

For open shallow waters

Foggy directions and startled laughter

Burnt, bitten, and sandy

Florida left its signature on me