Is that Clear

I want to be transparent.
It is not that I want to dissapear.
It is so that you can see right through me
and  know that I am not hiding.
To be known requires to be shown.
To love and be loved, vulnerability.
I need! the ability to love and be loved.
So... I go to look up what vulner is, and like that
my bookmarked thesaurus is fixed on the word
comeon with the synonym of amorous...
Vulner- no thesaurus results
Did you mean Viler- liner vainer vailer vulgar cloner lune
loner.
No! I want to be able to be accessible sensitive
defenseless susceptible exposed unsafe liable weak
ready
To Love. Is that Clear!

Having no money 

the only thing that 

I had to give 

from my pocket 

was an empty pen 

On it the words

Ink Joy

                  

Just

Just sit and watch
waves and wind
clouds and caterpillars
plants and people
fire and frost
what have you gained
           and
what have you lost
             ?

me

I find my sustenance following the tide
Walking in the edge places
Where abundance is most available
When one meets the other
I stand between
Within reach of the poles
As heaven meets earth
              me

To know.

To know the truth
is to challenge the lie
from quantumly earth
to heavenly sky
between east and west
from beyond north and south
discerning the best
be the word from your mouth
asking the questions
posed by this sound
standing on absolute fact
that square is not round.

I Write

I write like I Garden
basically a potterer
finding as I Walk
the activity of words
flowing as I Surf
on waves of wonder
learning journaling equaling Banjo
a discipline practiced every day
framing feelings resembling Photographic
images of imagination
doodles that Art
drawn from the mind
and joining the Family
to which I belong

Party Head

Sunrise risin' over the horizon,

a party head, just crashed in bed.

Many drunken footfalls ago, he decided to departy from the party'o.

Crashed out in bed, with a fucked up head.

Why ? do I have to get so pissed at parties, and lose my self control.

Get so drunk, my minds defunked, my memory a black hole.

When I walk in, I think it's a sin, to have a serious sober thought.

I can't dance, I can't talk, I'm a boring social naught.

I need something to make this scene. I think.

Things might get better if I only had a drink.
 I drink, and drink, and drink, and drink,
 'till I'm right off my f*ckin head.

I may or may not enjoy myself, my memory has fled.

And you may say, "just don't drink so much, retain some self control."

But, I find it a hard thing to do that and fulfill a social role.

greif in the time of covid

My Mother is gone...
The last tide of breath returned.
In this moment I wander looking for this missing part.
Easiest when I put my hands in the soil and re member with tears and smiles.
When Dad died I flew around the World.
Today it feels like the whole World is in my garden.
And You my Friends are a comfort in my grief.

https://www.facebook.com/vance.gillgren/posts/10156883473821056

Happy Easter

Write us a poem
Sing us a song
Show us a picture
Move us along
to two too
The way of relating
The sharing of bread
The common of blood
The union of head
We Art One
So Rise from the dead.

                       adVance

Can I Live here?

I like this method of communication.
Where what is said
has been thought about,
worked through,
and the silence between...
...is not awkward.
 It is to me
 the word becoming flesh.
Not ?
just hovering in the ether to dissapear
as memory distances it from existance.
I write this as I sit upon a log,
on a beach,
in a fresh offshore breeze,
with a wave periodically rushing up and circling me,
as I sit high and dry upon my lofty perch.
The rising sun is out and warms my face.
I am finding my Rest.
I am still.
I am knowing my God.
Can I live here?

......?

What do you do
When the structures fall
When there is only you
When you've seen thru the wall
Where do you go
When things come to the end
When you' re dying to know
When there's a life to mend
What do you pray
When your choices are mute
When there's no words to say
When you need a new shoot

For there is hope for a tree:  If it is cut down, it will sprout again,  and its tender shoots will not fail. If its roots grow old in the ground  and its stump dies in the soil, at the scent of water it will bud  and put forth twigs like a sapling.  Job