You make me take too many walks.

I wanted to hurt that kid.

I was so angry at him.

I think I was angry at myself.

I think I was growing up.

I think you were scared.

I think I was scared. 

I think I am scared.

I'm scared that if it happens, I'll wake back up in that nightmare.

I'm scared to tell you ...

I'm scared that I won't meet someone better than you.

I'm scared that we'll go our separate ways.

I'm scared that you like someone else.

I'm afraid if I tell you I might cry.

I think we speak the same language.

I don't know why none of my words make it to you.

I love you.

I don't know why I do either.

I don't know why I get so poetic around you.

I don't know why I do this to myself.

........

Mood Onyx

I get swallowed by the sea.

All I feel is the cold deep on my skin.

Slowly falling as the shimmering light fades.

Dying for another breath.

Regretting the past.

Losing the present.

Fearing the future.

What future?

I always wanted to tell you about it.

Every time I saw your smile I didn't want to break it.

Little lies I told here and there.

I can't remember how to start.

My name remembered by a stone.

My memory carried by the dust in the wind.

My love kept by the occasional roses.

Dying for another breath.

February 21, 1838 - Col. Whitestone

Another day on the tundra.
The mountains echo whispers of some forthcoming.
Twigs break all around me.
Maybe its all in my mind.
I've been moving south south-east on foot for days.
My lips, cut by the wind, whisper words into the trees like a prayer.
A prayer that I might die before another night in the cold.
Please god, please take me.

Haunted bitterness of the frontier.
My purpose is lost but my feet drag on.
Like a dog I wander.
The lonely snow catches on my tears.
Shivering thoughts like a venom in my mind.
Broken flesh aches my timbers to the core.
The cold black and white picture stained blood red in my hand.
Shaking at the thought of what life was like back home.

Maybe its all in my mind.

No more pine-kissed dreaming.
You're a man now.
Act like one.

Life beyond the rockies (a short life long lived)

The winds in the chimes, the whales on the water
The feast walks the woods on the turkey foul feather

And when the moon rises I lay on the pillow
and pray to the stars and the wondrous willow

The fog on the air sweeps the trees on the mountain
It whispers adventure, a quiet hello

I've seen all your cities, your trains, and your ghettos
I've found I quite like mother nature's sweet home
-
The night is so cold that you have to go cover up
the ghost of your past, you never could cover up

Your Indian blanket seems still to be warm enough
The promise of sunrise seems still to me hope enough now 
-
I covered with red the posts and the lintel
the loving lord with me in every trial

I trekked all the valley and sang through the meadow
I flew as a falcon, the wandering sire

Now I'll move to missoula and fly-fish the rivers
and live off the forest till age take my soul

I'll bring her some roses from natures old garden
The smile on her face is a face to call home...

........

Mood Indigo

Day and night

I can’t take it anymore

Thrills and thoughts

Hike there to breathe a little

Sleep here to dream a little

Swim here to drown a little

You can leave bad places

You can leave bad people

Can’t leave those thoughts

These thoughts are going to kill me

“Don’t let them

Live now

Die tomorrow”

What’s the difference.

Every night

Can’t sleep.

Day and night

I can’t live this anymore

Thoughts of burning pictures

Thoughts of dripping tears

Thoughts of short lived  potential

Thoughts like these are going to kill me

Some days it feels they already have

Lone wolf

Every day

Can’t wake.

Take a picture to remember

You hear but never listen

Like the haiku in my mind

Yours I feared too

Maybe if my eyes close they won’t see you anymore

Day and night

I can’t control it

Sleep talking my life away

Dreaming of something else

When I lay to sleep...

I go to wake up

Day and night

Self esteemed  

I could have stayed where I was and had a life you’d be proud of

Getting things off my chest like a shrink

Can’t get them off my mind though

Losing my frame of reference for what felt good

Met this girl

She was amazing

Thoughts like this are going to kill me

Day and night

Life slow motion

Mood indigo

Neck deep indigo.

Thoughts like this are going to kill me

........

Ole Whitestone and Liverstroke

Whitestone cowboy

Tracking lost treasures

Stealing years from time

Dressed for the mountains

Strumming to the morning

Whitestone cowboy

A rock of a man

Bred by trial for something greater

Liverstroke horserider

Whitestone cowboy

Who packed adventure in a bag

Who’s firelit nightlight outlived the dark

Who sings to horses at dusk

Who’s laughter echoes lonely in the canyons

Who lives off the desert air of the valley

Whitestone cowboy

Who’s dreams never left him

Whitestone cowboy

A hail from some other time

A man from some well seasoned mother

A life from some wonderous thing

A garden from some poetic writings

A boy from some worthy adventure

Whitestone cowboy

Tends to the fire

Sleeps to the ground

Cries to the moon

Wakes to the dew

Rides to the sunset

Lush dreaming

Living like our parents lived.
steady job
steady love
steady hands
steady life
no.
Greatest fear.
I mean its nice and all but...

Living life away for the occasional road trip never felt more...
incarcerated...

Living life like our children live.
Explore every curiosity
Open every cookie jar
Occasionally break bones
Grow up whenever

Living life for the occasional adventure never felt so...
Liberating...

Mood Ochre

Quilted Dreams.
Granite Mountains.
Humming Mahogany.
Kodiak Wisdom.
Howling Wolf.
October Road.
Shivering Juniper.
Cooking Smoke.
Cabin Lumbers.
Rough Leather.
Pensive Rain.
Old Pine.
Raw Honey.
Aged Mozzarella.
Cherry Wine.
September Grass.
Indian Blanket.
Warm Cocoa.
Tailored Fur.
Billowed Coals.
Iron Longhorn.
Roast Beast.
Morning Dew.
Veiled Cosmos.
Burnt Umber.
Smokey Topaz.

Mood Scarlet

Aching the mahogany to her favourite song.

Salad slaying the whole meal.

Lifting mountains like pebbles.

Making it look easy.

Teasing the Ivory.

Musical noir.

(pssst She also likes Bon Iver)

Making it look easy.

Speaking Deliberately.

Laughing for the sake.

Eating bread for the carbs.

Making it look easy.

A little box with a rock inside wouldn't do it justice.

My stupid jokes like a loon.

My silly songs about mountains.

My insecurities.

Lovely flowers and well crafted evenings wouldn’t do it justice.

Her hair like a song.

Her heart like a bear.

Her smile like a sunset.

Her words like a luxury.

She makes Beauty look easy.

I don’t usually write about her...

You can’t ever do it justice.

Blizzards hit record low.

Its cold outside.

The kind of cold that makes you want warmer days.

The kind of warmer days that make you wish for nothing else, except maybe a popsicle.

The kind of popsicle that drips down you hand and gets your hands sticky.

The kind of sticky that makes you want to rip your hand off.

Like they did in that one movie you saw.

That one movie you saw even when mom said no.

The way she says no like its a challenge to defy her.

When after you saw it you understood why she said no.

She just wanted to protect you.

She just wanted to protect you.

Now its cold outside.

The kind of cold that makes you want your mother back.