Outpost Poetry

Bridging the Distance

The long hard ride across the Sea of Change
Where anything goes
Up and down, sideways,
Buying into sidewalks and concrete
The long day adding up to pennies on a dime
Pinned beneath hot humid sky
Where there is nowhere to hide
The moments ticking faster
Time running up and over
Demands for more and the cup is empty
Fearing cave ins and heavy rains, strangers with desperate needs.

I look it over laying down covered up
The AC spinning up additional costs,
The sheets need changing,
So much to do and I can’t move.
The Heavy Hand making its way across the moment
And I cannot find my eyes.

I dream,
it is my only chance, onward through it all,
above the smoke, the clutter,
I dream,
Pressing feelings for a small glimpse in what
I can do when in movement.
I ate well,
My good friend giving me direction
That I may secure clarity.
I lay in a flow of blessings,
I run it like energy through a conduit of human flesh.
Focused, never ending the flow continues.
The Flow continues on and on.
Like loading the DNA with remembrance.
The Core of Being sparked off
Triggers to the right rising from the sea,
spinning in the proper position, like the earth rotating.

What would it be like to eat good the entire day?
Paying attention to details,
the saturation of living things,
the Up and Coming.
What would it be like to heal the wounds?
To breath deep in a community embracing change.
The diversity of the many colors.
The TV a monument to the past unused.
Single rooms and big kitchens,
biting at open sky.

Joe Nelson Icet
July 7, 2003

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