forest light...
Sometimes a forest is a forest – sometimes it’s your soul, your breathing, and all the words you could ever write to paper.
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August 2005 – near Grandfather Mountain, NC
17.3.07
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“We all need discipline.”
about me
- sam of the ten thousand things
- the milky way
- Sam Rasnake, a sardonic twist of fate, is a pathetic excuse for a poet who once dreamed he was a human who dreamed he was a teacher who thought he could play guitar. Along the way - a soul-mate, two children - one collection, Necessary Motions; three chapbooks, Religions of the Blood, Lessons in Morphology, and Inside a Broken Clock. He even thinks he edits a magazine - Blue Fifth Review.
what's in my head...
Motel Chronicles
Sam Shepard
Necessary Motions
(Sow's Ear Press)
Out of print, but may be purchased from the author.
collections
Religions of the Blood
(Pudding House Press)
In print and may be ordered from the publisher.
Lessons in Morphology
(GOSS183) - part of the MiPOesias Chapbook Series
Inside a Broken Clock
(Finishing Line Press)
In print and may be ordered from the publisher.
7 comments:
Breathtaking.
I feel that way about "the woods" which is what we called it in Western Massachusetts growing up.
I appreciate the read - Nicole, Jenni & Melissa.
When I lived in New Hampshire and the deep woods were right outside the backdoor, I used to wander into that forest without fear. I always trusted those trees. I roamed for hours. I never got lost.
I never thought of that forest as my soul.
I do recall, though, being very aware of the forest's soul though.
When I was deep in those deep woods.
And very unaware of my own.
I was truly happy deep in those deep woods.
I was soulless.
this reminds me of why i hate living in the city...
This is beautiful -- it looks more like a painting than a photo.
Thanks to Helen, LKD, Goodness Gracious, and Suzanne for stopping by the woods on a ...
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