Sometimes extraordinary earthquakes radically rearrange the landscape
Sometimes continents collide, violently vying for the same space
Sometimes the savanna becomes a mountain range dividing two valleys
Sometimes your two best friends are a girl and a guy
she likes him
you like her
Sometimes the savanna becomes a mountain range dividing two valleys
sometimes you wander into a romance novel
not ready for
a love triangle
Sometimes continents collide, violently vying for the same space
sometimes relationships shift and you realize
you are not
the best man
Sometimes extraordinary earthquakes radically rearrange the landscape
sometimes your two best friends get married
and you need
new best friends
Categories:
tectonics, love hurts, relationship, teen
Form: Free verse
An old man remembers what he has been
yet the details are unimportant. Then
the outline disappears, and the meaning.
Good, I can die or go to work, be wise
or a jerk. Rich or poor, the wind and rain
wear us away and it's o.k.
Ask what matters, that
question. Feeling the seasons, wearing a hat,
loving your woman, a good ****.
Children born. Two cells meet, multiply,
spiral into fetus. The mother is amazed:
an intelligence apart from herself.
The violent rainstorm kept me awake
although the lightning was still far away.
I lay in my bed and listened naked.
Categories:
tectonics, children, feelings, mother, rain,
Form: Verse
Plate Tectonics
When crust and mantle-
Meet beneath the steal gray seas
Fiery flames burn.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 9, 2008
Categories:
tectonics, nature
Form: Haiku
I wait for the deluge
To see Arizona's Coast
Join hands, tread water.
Categories:
tectonics, natural disasters, nature
Form: Haiku
I am Magma.
I am of the Earth, created in a furnace that I did not ignite.
I am found at mountaintops and ocean depths,
Hot springs and black smokers.
The furnace at my core is my guide.
It generates the Force through which I flow,
Uniting me with the Earth, Its Beings, and myself.
It thrums in me, forcing me forward.
Sporadically I spew forth in great, frothy flumes.
Most often I ooze, ever up and out and back upon myself,
Recreating my features, my history, my gifts.
I am becoming an island,
A place to visit and sing songs of celebration or lamentation.
With sheltering places to heal and hope,
And salty, sugar beaches to dance upon and shout in joy.
Some may come, simply to hear my song.
My duty is to be here – vibrating, shifting, yielding, demanding,
Yet always here, welcoming my visitors.
Listening to the sighs and songs of spirits,
Acknowledging the teardrop and the raindrop,
Making way through the mantle, that others may find their way.
Beginning an archipelago of Spirit, a landmark of Honor,
Where travelers find Succor, Enrichment, and Love.
Categories:
tectonics, hope, inspirational, philosophy, may,
Form: Carpe Diem