It's OK To Leave

It’d be alright to leave those hoarse shouts and their whorish screams far behind

Don’t need to see every bit of the open land turned into monocrops for the surging poor

I can sadly hand the skinny babies back to their undernourished and dirty mothers

No real need to stick around to watch every last large animal simply be wiped out

It’s OK to leave and let their sad, greedy and pointless drama play on out without me

No reason to watch the poison, litter, dust and destruction just keep on spreading

It’ll be nice not hearing the constant roar of jackass traffic filling them with road rage

Wont bother me to not have to get all my information from corporate advertising media

I can just remove their vivid implanted dreams of that credit card faux-luxury without any fear

It might actually be safe and good not to see the latest in sports championship hyperbole

I won’t need to be sad to miss either foolish talk shows or trivial project schedules

You just don’t have to stick around for the intellectual poverty of the onrushing Modern Dark Ages

I can safely move on without jeopardizing even a bit of our blindly venal self-destruction

I don’t have to watch economic needs savagely destroy the only environment that supports them

It’ll be alright not to unwillingly help as we poison the very family nests we so carefully build

I really wont miss the unending statistics of habitat dicing, degradation and destruction

It’ll be good not helping reduce all rivers to stagnant green canals filled with our toxic sludge

I’ll be glad not wasting fossil water feeding indigestible grain to tortured factory cattle

Wont learn how the entire world ocean filled with microscopic plastic litter particulates

What a relief not hearing about no-bid, cost-plus, auto-renewing military contracts again

Not required to debt finance any more of the institutionalized ongoing insanity called war

Cant be forced to witness more witless and unsmiling cruelty in the name of any of our 1 true gods

Its OK to leave even before the blindly self-destructive climax occurs in its own good time

You don’t have to be there as the earth shrugs us off without even a geologic trace

It’s alright to miss the great human die-off that’s shortly to slap us all back into darkness

It’ll be easier than trying to survive without either our technology or ancestral wisdom

Don’t worry that you’d ever be missed in the self-trampling consumerist stampede

If you will just relax and step away from that blatting big screen for a moment, sir

No one will notice you walking off into a polluted sunset during their nightly commute

It’s not necessary that you see this foolish waste and destruction to its bitter end

It’s OK to end your mandatory participation in this vast de-construction that we call progress

You need not worry they might turn the filthy tide from selfish greed to steady state

Fear not that your presence is required as we descend into poverty, ignorance and filth

Lo, the increasing heat, mass extinction and habitat destruction are now self-sustaining

Their stale & fictional gods wont be poised to punish you for setting off upon your own

It’s OK to leave at any time for it’s all the same to the beckoning void that silently awaits

My Safe Places

dancing with the Incas in their ancient worship of the holy snow-capped Andes

floating off towards untouchable blue Tibetan peaks with chanting Buddhist monks

surfing with the seals in the rich smelling foamy waves there in a far-off NorCal paradise

pollinating lovely infrared flower patterns with the other bees on my honey-making job

spending time in the New Stone Age, crafting tools and fighting cave bears

orbiting our earth at the very limit of the exosphere, taking in all her colors

roiling with a strong clean river, smelling the big migrating salmon flashing all around me

getting covered with red desert sandstone dust in all its finely-ground Anasazi grace

peeping out with tiny montane tundra flowers after 8 months beneath deep snow

speeding with the suns reflection across the cup of a huge, cleanly breaking swell

pausing beneath the midnight sun to watch the rivers running to the north

taking in the winter light from a panoramic southern exposure, far from any road

pushing across the bluest sky with the puffy clouds on that perfect day in May

Hunting with the dolphins, co-operating with the bluefins, feeding on the life force

Losing my pre-conceptions as I drop their illusions and tear up my prescriptions

Circulating with the oceanic currents, from the surface to the bottom, all around the globe

Slaloming the methane powder mountains all alone, on the active moons of Saturn

Savoring fresh Indian ocean sushi with the great whites off the coast of South Africa

crossing the Bering Strait with mammoths, admiring vast herds of ice age mega-fauna

fattening with the giant brown bears as my coat grows thick and glossy

watching the first spring sunrise with the emperors on Antarctica’s frozen coast

dining on tons of krill strained through my baleen right alongside the great blue whales

gleaming in the dancing rainbows off the shimmering green cliffs of the Hawaiian coast

sighing with the ponderosa pines as we hear another gust of autumn wind approaching

waiting on the tide for dinner as the rain tinkles above us on the Inside Passage

riding on the chords of good music to a place so far above, where I can only try to stay

watching the sled dogs pull our family away from my final place, alone upon an ice floe

raking that impeccable garden for an eternal moment in a quiet Zen sanctuary

searching blue canyonland shadows with the eyes of a Navajo medicine man

painting spirit creatures on the walls of our ceremonial cave in ancient Spain

meditating with the Buddha beneath the great tree of life, pondering the river’s gentle whispers

gazing up from sunlit coral gardens through the warm waters of our mother ocean

searching for more reassuring sign of the totem that guides me all the days of my life

crying out with the hawks far above by the cliffs where the sunset still radiates

howling with the wolfpack at 30 below beneath the aurora borealis, feeling our mortality

seeking that ancient understanding pulsing so close beneath the thin skin of things