Head Out (once more).

[Nazz]

Head out
to a desert trance,
farther out into your interior.
Rise and fall keeps time.

Encounter a pause,
a thin etching stretching into wonder.
It slips out meekly into faint auburn seas.
Your pause is blanketed by thick silence.
Fading scrawl dies into burnished hillsides,
brilliant or wistful in the angle of day.

Simple interior is dimensionless.
It slips out as a poem never repeated.
Imagine here from there, space-time fiction.
What does now look like from the first ridge?
How far can scrawl run out until it meets itself?
How is a glance worth so many questions?

Space energizes the interior,
your dreamlike span, simple form.
Your rhythm and scale blend inner and outer.
They converge on your big beat earth.
You want to rush through lean times.
You want to match your lead foot
against the simple sublime,
but your desert resists.

Head out
to a big beat earth
on its way to somewhere else.
Rise and fall keeps time.

[Yejun]

This was great

except for:

stretching like etching on the face of wonder,


into some mythic treasure of solace.

One of the best this year.

[Nazz]

Thanks Yejun. ... started as prose, and that's probably where it will end up. A work in progress, or maybe the last of its kind, abruptly retired-- that inner-outer road mojo excursion I can't seem to leave alone. Funny thing.. Well, it was a soothing type of write at least.

[mtmynd]

Road stories are always worthy subjects to pursue... continue writing that which pleases you, amigo... you do it well.

[Arcadia]

Simple rise and fall keeps time.

so true!

gracias for sharing, mark!!!!

[Nazz]

Thanks Cecil, Arcadia. Appreciate.

Wrote another bit on the same theme...

In a glance my boundless realm was born, so in probing its reach and gathering its dust it seems natural the realm gradually returns there. Outer space and inner begin to merge. Rock and spirit. Those distinctions begin to break down. You don’t need hallucinogens, only a wandering eye. When Ed Abbey dropped acid in Death Valley his account read like paranoid, metallic crackle-- a trip that subverted the essence of a night on the floor of Death Valley. You have music drifting in and out, a little food and drink, but it gets down to quiet. Your eye drifts out and shadows and ridges turn a deeper shade of quiet, your drug of choice. It may all evaporate when you return to the interstate, but for now you remain boundless.

[mtmynd]

damn good.

[saw]

nice work, especially liked the addendum....Edward Abbey was a rather fearless character, I mean wandering around in the desert can get you killed, but I'm happy he wrote about it.....enjoyed the trip...

[hester_prynne]

I'm outta here! Thanks for the ride Nazz
H