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Sun, 26 Oct 2008 07:40:22 -0700

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/19528014/

Sat, 05 Apr 2008 13:38:22 -0700

Lost

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

David Wagner

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/19200122/

Wed, 26 Mar 2008 17:54:18 -0700

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/19199937/

Wed, 26 Mar 2008 17:48:06 -0700

Two celebrities in one - Scary!!!

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/13941632/

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 17:22:37 -0700

MOTHER EARTH
(something I wrote about ten years ago)

I lay beneath the spreading oak
where branch and bark do lowly part.
Upon lush grass that slowly licks
beneath my flesh, into my heart.

I climb beneath the carpet thick
to find a depth to never share.
The smell of root and soil wet
taunting me as I enter there.

Within the womb of mother earth
I seek my place with a restless sigh.
Her cool hand soothes my heavy soul
subduing my long and sullen cry.

Curling about my chest and throat
so tight I gasp in wanting pain.
Release me not unto myself
for there I do not dare remain.

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/14403674/

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 17:20:57 -0700

Easter Bunny Gets Revenge

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/19161305/

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 16:43:17 -0700

Your Redneck Name is

Molly Cornhauler

Get Your Redneck Name at Quizopolis.com

http://www.quizopolis.com/redneck_name.php

Hmmm, Molly Cornhauler. Not sure what to think of that. Better than fudgepacker.

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/19106715/

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 07:50:22 -0700

You Are Olive Green

You are the most real of all the green shades. You're always true to yourself.

For you, authenticity and honesty are very important... both in others and yourself.

You are grounded and secure. It takes a lot to shake you.

People see you as dependable, probably the most dependable person they know.

What Color Green Are You?

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/19106487/

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 07:42:41 -0700

You Are Black Pepper

You may be considered ordinary by some, but you're far from boring.

You elevate the mood of any discussion, and people miss you when you're not around.

You are secretly very dominant and powerful. Most can only take you in small doses.

What Spice Are You?

http://northernarizona.stumbleupon.com/review/15134574/

Sat, 15 Mar 2008 07:08:04 -0700

The Third Kiss
(A little something I wrote)

"They say there are three types of kisses."

"Only three?" I ask

"Kindness, love and passion," she replies.

She turns to me and touches my face, thumb tracing my chin. Is your desire superficial," she asks, testing my response.

I pull away. She is reminding me of what she wants to believe and I want to contest it. I want to kiss her there and now, I want to tell her there are more than three, but such explanations are made with time not words.

We walk through tall trees casting grey bleeding shadows from glowing red canopies. The sun is about to set with a chill one step ahead. I stay two as we walk in silence.

"When are you leaving?" I ask.

"Tomorrow, at the end of the day."

Again we are silent.

"We could have one last night together," she mentions. "I never meant for it to be this way."

"Nobody ever does," I reply. Lovers cannot embrace one another with passion and finality at the same time. It's an illusion we are willing to buy into, even for a moment. A necessity. Why we choose to believe it, I don't know. Maybe it's a bargain we make in some other lifetime. A proof that nothing lasts.

"I can only give you tonight, no guarantees beyond that."

There never are, I think. Each time she visits, it's always the same. She comes from nowhere and then returns the same. No questions asked. No announcement made upon her arrival - it's as if she belongs to nothing, no one.

Reading my mind, she continues, "It's too complex."

I've understood this from the beginning but wanted it to be a lie. I closed my eyes. My blindness is my own.

Strolling through crooked paths we arrive at my cabin. Smoke churns from the chimney, a warm welcome within, dichotomous indeed. The bed is still unmade, I may never sleep in it again. Then again, I may never leave it.

"Tea?" I ask.

"Please."

"Earl Grey or English Breakfast?"

"Whatever you're having."

"It was Earl Grey the first night you were here. Always Earl Grey. Why the indecision?

She frowns as she plops herself on my couch before the fire, smoothing back her long dark hair, green eyes, casual yet making a statement. "Sometimes I like choice," she says.

Choice I think is a double edged sword. Splitting the tongue, mending the soul. And at times splitting the soul while mending the heart. I say nothing.

The kettle begins to whistle. The window grows foggy from within, obstructing my view, forcing my attention. I give her Earl Grey. I would ask her to stay forever, but I refuse myself the pursuit.

She begins to speak of sad movies, favorite movies, life. I let her talk as I gaze into the fire. Flames licking at one another, fighting for victory - a heated battle never won.

"Do you remember what you told me when we first met?" I ask. I am recalling her grief of a childhood split between fear and desire. And then a marriage cut of the same pattern. Her words describe a slow death. Grabbing, reaching, begging for help.

"That I needed a ride?" she responds humorously.

I found her walking along the road. A break down, I assumed. Her destination - the same as mine. The first evening we sat in this same place, complete strangers, opening our hearts, not for trust but hope. Expunging grief. Cutting, bleeding, wiping wounds clean. Rescuing has always been my weakness. How did she know? She kissed me longingly, with love, as if we had known each other forever - a journey now at its end.

Later, in my bed, neither of us slept for a day and a half. So much to be consumed, held and then released. Another kiss - tenuous, soft, and easy. The second, full of fire. She grabbed with one hand and pushed with the other as she drove her tongue deep into my mouth. Such hunger. One I foolishly satisfied.

"You told me about your childhood," I remind her. "You said that people were always leaving and that before they left they took and took. One took your virginity, your mother's boyfriend. Your mother blamed you for his departure. And then she left shortly after, you were only sixteen."

"And your point is," she asks.

(continued)