I sit here

Pondering the terrifying 

The loss of breath

The loss of self

The lonely road to oblivion


All we have

Is these moments

Time is unforgiving 

Fate is inevitable 

Love is our legacy



The son has grown, he's choosing path

With fear in eyes, he stands like calf

Oh, Lord, what shall I do and where'd I go?

What shall I search for, what is my role?


There is no way which's purely right,

There is no window which's only bright.

Be my guest, let's solve this secret,

Let's have a journey, so grab your ticket.


But don't forget what people say,

What have they begged for,

What have they prayed.

They tried, they searched,

They've found and lost,


They fought for what they loved the most.

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the way it is

the way it is
it’s gray 
perhaps off white
pebbles arranged helter skelter
the inevitable two step
trekking tornados 
clawing at legacy

a progressive road
punching the horizon
signpost ravens wing the abyss
looping replays 
showcase what - 
is that the universe
endless dust
on the head of a pin

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"Heritage Part Two"

by Jeph Johnson


proportions remain endless
while all Creation
hinges on my

I am at once
all there is
and all there will be
in awe of
all there is
and all that will be

I must leave some of
myself in this hermitage
scrawling knowledge
in these caves
for a future I must trust to exist


to become heritage
without posterity
I have to be the first in a series

Author's Notes/Comments: 

circa 2004

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"Heritage, Part One"

Seventeen-year old Marcel Ravidat and a group of his friends in September, 1940 discovered the entrance to an underground network of caves in Lascaux France when Marcel’s dog became stuck in a hole.  After pulling it to safety, the boys were presented with artwork that had been shielded from the elements for what is estimated to be 17,000 years.  Inside the caves they discovered a series of crude paintings and engravings.


    They did not know they had stumbled upon 

     the earliest known example of human artistic expression.


The drawings were presumably part of an elaborate magical ritual designed to ensure the Paleolithic-era hunter-artists a productive bounty.  Perhaps a mystical or pseudo-spiritual element was present in their motives; but I prefer to believe mankind has always had the foresight and sense of wonder to document his surroundings in an artistic way.  Inside the cave were two large spaces with a zoo of images decorating the walls:


     Bulls and bears danced with horses and ibexes while
     many foreign-to-France figures like hyenas and
     lions rubbed shoulders with reindeer and rhinos.  

     Among the throng was the now-extinct woolly mammoth.


One miraculous drawing, etched and painted on limestone,
depicted a spear-pierced and disemboweled bison
that had turned his rage toward a skinny bird-headed man.

The animals were surrounded by mysterious geometric figures and often drawn overlapping each other.  Many have been only partially drawn and all have very skinny, sometimes stick-figured legs.  Even 17,000 years ago, I wonder if this cave was a place of seclusion for a person who had only recently discovered fire-making.


      Perhaps even in Paleolithic-era France censorship

      and the desire to control other’s artwork ran rampant.


I envision our artist hastily scrawling out animals on a ruddy cave wall hoping not to get caught, or chipping away hurried images before his flickering torch sucked up his oxygen and left him gasping in complete darkness.


     Our caveman has left a legacy, whether it was
     intentional, remains vacuum-packed in our perceptions.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

circa 2004

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