June 19th, 2024 Half Dome Diaries
#50 #empress #half #halfdome #priestess #sorceress #yosemite
Needless of a judge, a contrite heart is a bird suspended on a current, shifting myriad planes without asking or telling.
Hollow fang? Volcano. Cat’s purr? Hymnals. Intuition?
Every time I leave my parents’ ho… I am filled with a sweet sorrow. It has taken me half a lifetime to… and now I love them so dearly, so… They nor I are getting younger
Mojave Desert crushed cars stacked six, seven, ten tall. From the junkyard juts a billboard:
I would lie with my hand on the B… I would lie with my hand on a stac… of Holy Qurans. I would look you dead-in-the-eye, and tell you a lie.
Ancient meadow preadolescence, burgeoning and righteous never-ending dimension first sighted past your fingertips… is stolen by ambition,
A Sacred Site has a genealogy, a pedigree of constituents whose good wisdom and charitable insight are markers enough
The Rock made me to see each month as a day. The Rock implored that I be patie… with a patience so radical it slips into renunciation
I have this sensation when remembering the poignant noteworthy moments, Lovers, the Dead, crimes—
Upon that special mound there is a cleanliness, a purity sanctimonious, something so perfect it’s numerological—
Ten days secluded now, improper and unshaven inside a black and gold hole, dope den of sultry sound and opiate mood.
Every once in a while, when my bunkmates are asleep (or at least I hope they are), and the jingle of the keys fades to the end of the hall,
You can get better, or you can get worse, or you can stay the same. But you can’t change. Nope!
Oh, Death! Two beers and I’m on my back! Skipped the shower, skipped the toothbrush. Just a film of sweat,
Trees poke from the earth like the mummified hands of the martyrs. Buried alive, they strained with last breath