Another poem, sort of, and short

Savior

Whip me, beat
me, hang me, stone
me (Not necessarily
in that order) And I'll take that
moment to find
Jesus...or somethin' so I may find
release

Feeling slightly political today

If patriotism is loyalty to the principles of democracy, how would this be practiced? This word, patriotism, has been loosely defined for us. We live in a country where dissent has been declared unpatriotic. This country was built on dissent, therefore it's the best way to stay loyal. The Patriot Act in particular, contradicts itself. It tells us that in order to be patriotic we must not question. We must blindly and unflinchingly believe that the government upholds our best interest. This boldly and blatantly defies the notions of freedom and independence upon which our constitution was formed. Patriotism cannot be defined by and large for an entire country as a unit. Patriotism is the ability to stay true to an individual belief rather than a preconceived notion. A patriot has an idea of their own perfect democracy and agrees or disagrees with the government accordingly. Patriotism is free will. Patriotism is the birth of change. Patriotism is felt on a personal level and must be broadcast the world over.

First, a poem

First, a poem about a place in Maine where I spent much of my formative youth.

Nor’easter Island

Scene: A wave slides into
A deep crag in the rocks
Spraying morning dewy saltwater
At my feet.
Coastline: A rising floor waxes and wanes
Under the knobby roof of a
Cave housing baby seals.
Hunting: I stand observing coastline as
Mama patrols for threats.

Before she takes notice I escape
the wet hindering lag of clothing and jump
in. A juicy rush of shear blue glass
makes a panicky break for the backs of my eyeballs
then recedes like the tide as my first exhale
sends bitter bubbles into the breakers. My body becomes
a pincushion and before I can surface the chill
causes a desperate gasp inviting pinch and tug into my lungs.

For a moment I see an angry seal in sparring stance
barking at a thrumming bush then find
the surface again, and seek out
warmth on the beach rock.
Home above the sea
I feel I should
never leave.

Next time I’ll let the cold take
Me and find home in
Desolate Depths.

Introducing myself to the blog

I have never blogged before. I have avoided this use of the interweb at all costs, but now it seems inevitable. Embracing modern technology is a necessary evil. The world moves as it moves; mountains and oceans can't stand in the way. As a part of this world, I have now chosen to be the mountain or the ocean-to turn with the world. Not to follow the turning, but to be a part of it and do as it does. I will use this blog to publish what I will. That is anything I write will be here. Nobody knows who I am and Jasper Pipestone is not my real name. This is how I will expose my art, through the brick thick curtain of anonimity. I only hope that somebody will enjoy what I have to say. Thanks for reading.