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Posts Tagged ‘air’

Easy as the Days Go

Easy as the days go by
in the summer villages,
in the English gardens and
on American front porches.

You have not lived if you
have not spent time rocking
in a chair on wooden
planks that creak under the sun.

You have not lived if you
have not spent time not thinking
too much, only how pleasant
the current moment is,

how scent-kissed the air is,
how sun-kissed your face is,
how sense-kissed your body is,
how slow-kissed the time goes.

Easy as the days go by
you find that place where
getting nothing done
gives you everything.

Kyle McHale 2014

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Ticking Travel

Venture to a most peaceful spot,
In city, or woods, or vast plains,
A spot to slow the inner clock,
To slow the beating of the brain.

Stop the flooding head of much,
Too much to bear, feel, and see,
All little clocks with ticking parts,
All tiny thoughts that visit me.

Nothing can work all at once,
The world with its timing,
All little greased up ticking parts,
All long roads with their winding.

That dry desert road once had all
The dreams I always tried to chase.
To get there and find them full of
Dry land, filth, and dusty waste

Let my vision pass itself
To see the green road up ahead,
Led to a rotting jungles end,
A jungle with its spirit dead.

Each road of ice, fire, and rain,
Had an end of freeze, burn, and flood,
At expense just one ticking part,
One part brain, one part drop of blood.

For blood the grease that works the ticks,
Which vision knows to change with it,
Where I let the stars and the moon
Consume my thoughts for a little bit

You may have just heard the water.
For I saw a streaking vast sky,
A place too large for all my blood,
You may have seen a fish swim by

To stare at you, to read your thoughts,
To understand the driving force,
Because complete had time to wait
To think about the one true source.

All perceptions to contemplate,
Though one part lost in each pure spot,
A piece gained from water and rock,
From thick jungle air steaming hot.

Once pulse slows down to learn something
And experience is gained,
The ticking body falls apart,
All blood bleeds out with pouring rain,

Yet peace may have flocked to the heart,
All peaceful spots become the same.
To see, to live, to think, to do,
To bleed, to die, to know what’s tame,

To feel the parts left out there,
To know they are filled by those places,
Blood has mountain jungle in it,
Peaceful things fill up those spaces.

To remember, cherish, and save,
To smile on earth, and in grave.

Kyle McHale      2009

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Night Tahoe

About the ancient shaping time,
This craft does form a peaceful sweet,
An air I have never tasted,
That sits on head and tugs the cheek

To magic tasting air. I sit
Outside, above the world sits,
Streaking stars with wondrous eyes
Among huge pines that stretch to fit

To fill pure beauty gap.
What is happening here?
My heart lay still but soul awake,
I sit and think in chair.

The dance of life is slow,
How far away is this place?
World of dancing peace
Exist to change my face.

I have never smelled so sweet an air,
Star dotted paper backs the trees,
Rolls out to cover all but down,
The sweetest things I have to see.

Season’s summer but heaven too,
Sweet kissed air, pine sap residue,
Seep into the water blue
Of a sweeping magic hue.

This feeling I only know,
Where I see and have to go,
Which direction time will go,
Lifting nights at Lake Tahoe.

Kyle McHale      2009

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