Mixed writings/poems/journals/songs/etc

Bones at the base of the mountain… …Standing tall and majestically…. Mmmmmmmm, polished ivory There’s a life that never fades Bones from a ….distant...

Dream Journal: I was somewhere between the time of boyhood and manhood. The shaman stood over the body on the ground, it bulky mass and skin dark and perfect. I played the drum, earthy and simple. I played the flesh of the animal, its tone solid. I experimented with different tones; the tones of the fleshy areas and then the bony ridge with a deeper sound. I played while the wise man cut a piece of flesh off with a crude yet sharp knife that he held curved around his knuckles. He put the piece in his mouth. He handed me the knife and spoke, he told be to cut the flesh of the animal. I held the knife, if felt comfortable but my heart was unsure.

Short Poem ...Tattoos of tiny footprints...