Independent Project – Poetry of the Camino
A Pilgrim Blessing
Set your path to Santiago
May your feet carry you there
May you endure trying hardships
But have friends to show you through
Young pilgrim, old pilgrim
May your path stay true
True to yourself
And everyone else
And in everything you do
May you be blessed with mindfulness
And think of where you are
Have been
And where you need to go
Walk slow and steady
For this is no race
But if your heart requires
You may pick up the pace
This pilgrimage has no rules
Just asks for respect and grace
May you respect yourself
As you respect others
May you make the trail a friendly place
Forget all borders
And focus on only the face
Paris Park Bench
Sitting in a square
Two heads connect across from me.
Blonde hair,
Short, long,
Frizzled strings
Falling from the heads
Resting on faces.
Pigeons scurry beneath feet.
Hopping,
Strutting stuff.
Heads bobbing
In snooty French manor
Demeanor unfitting for
Filthy city scavengers.
Smoke billows
Around mops of hair now intertwined
From the people passing by
Passing along cigarettes smiles and smells.
But the heads only smell love
Blonde curls unlock
Faces tell a story
Deep lines of wetherment and age
But through their head unlocks
Their eyes do not
Their gaze stays
Strong and true
Their love is clear
Sitting in the square.
Hotel Window
What a city I see
From this perch
As I view.
So many people
So much to do.
This morning I woke
From a song in the street
Unified voices
Off to church to meet.
I walked down
To the square over there
Where people drank
And smoke filled the air.
I sat on a bench
My fist clenched
Holding a pen I wrote until ten
And then I walked out of the square.
Fine Art
A room congested
A small painting on the wall
But few understand.
Their backs turned away
From beauty of all other
Blind of awareness.
I snap a picture
Not of what they’ve come to see
But of fools that lay in front of me.
This is not to dis
I simply wish to learn
What many fail to see.
Trucking
I step and I fly
The sky looks so high
But I feel the beat
And I go.
I’m going now
I’m really moving now
Yes I feel the beat as I flow.
And my legs are pumping
My arms are bumping
And I feel the beat
The huffing and puffing of air.
Now I look up from my feet
Until my eyes meet
The crest of the hill above.
And soon I’m there
Standing beneath the glare
If the risen and beaming sun.
And as I stand there
The mountains under my glare
I feel the beat
And it’s roar.
Yes this is the feeling
That I really am living
My heart is beating
And I’m alive.
Walking to Logrono
The rain is pelting
And the wind is whipping
I walk though
I don’t want to go
The hills are screaming
The feelings demeaning
And my feet trudge through the snow.
Now I hear my calf screaming
I think my ankles bleeding
So I guess
And I pray as I walk.
I’m almost there now
Though I don’t know how
I fucking
Better be close.
Now beyond the curling
I see a big building
And I quicken
The limp in my gimp.
And now here I am
Happy as a clam
And I take a shower
I’m good.
Ween
It comes and goes
Rushing through my veins
I share my feelings with friends
Blissfully walking beside
Tired now
I lag behind
A yellow rainjacket
Dashes ahead.
I plug in and
The odd sounds bounce
Throughout my eardrums
I zone.
The Art of Camino Autobussing
Walk.
Feel the exhilaration of kinesthetic
Endorphins
Pumping through your veins.
Notice the feeling.
Now walk faster.
Flex your bulging calves
And power up massive mountains.
Sweat through pain
And power past misery
To watch pain pass to pleasure.
Sleep.
Your body hurts now.
It screams pleas of help
But you don’t listen.
Shut its mouth and keep on pushing.
Faster.
Harder.
Ow.
Now as you walk
There’s a limp and a gimp
And soon
You’re not walking at all.
And as crowds
Pass you by
You’ll probably ask why
And curse at the
Laughing sky.
And no one can hear it
It crushes your spirit
Now you feel like
You’d rather die.
The you ask the Lord why
And you begin to cry
An autobus passes you by.
Now it’s your only option
Besides absolute abortion
So you raise your hand
And stand.
So the driver pulls over
And you hobble on over
And take a seat
On the bus.
And you look out the window
At a weeping willow
And the wind
That billows on by.
Now you hear an exclaim
A friend calls out
Your name
They too are on this bus.
Now in am embrace
Of words and arms
You realize
This is no race
And as you sit there
In the comfort of a chair
You find a peaceful
Grace.
This is
The Art of Camino Autobussing
As no there is
No shame.
Santiago de Compostela
The sun is shining
And friends are here
We made it to Santiago
It’s time to cheer
So uncork the wine
And crack open the beer
Let’s have a fiesta
Everyone is here
We’ve walked this far
Through wind and through rain
But through it all
We’ve rarely complained
So we gather in Santiago
Where the church meets the sky
And we think of the way
And how we made it by
So let’s gather here now
And enjoy the celebration
Soak of the sun
And feel gratification.
Sandals
Flip flop.
Against the pads of my heels
Flip flop.
The leather straps dig into my raw skin
Pink with wear.
Tendons form mountains
Between my toes Inflamed
Flip flop.
Now it rains and my
Feet get wet
They slip and slide
Toes trying to escape
The firm grasp of leather straps
Flip flop.
Water is squished in every step
It squirms and squeaks
Flip flop.
My toes mash against mesh
Pressing
Pushing
Pulsing
They curve and they flex
Flip flop.
My knee is bum
My tendons are shot
My skin is
Peeling off.
But my spirits are high
With all of these friends
Those who stay
And those who do pass by.
Thankful
How lucky am I
To sit right here
My leg
High up in the air.
I cannot forget
Throughout this entire trip
How lucky
And happy am I.
Rocks
I sit on a rock bed of trail mix
The various shaped pebbles
Poke against my butt while
Melodious sounds
Play in tune
With the continuous roar of
The ocean
Crashing in peaceful chaos.
Beach
Sitting on a beach
A dim glow illuminates white paper
White sand
Formed into valleys
Of dark ridges.
The roar.
The rumble and the tumble
The crash and the bang
Merge into sweet serenity.
Scarlet orange light fades
From distant hiltops
Soon to be explored.
Salt fills the cool night air
And grass escapes
From sandy dunes.
Dark clouds accompany the calm skies
While stars shine light,
Some fresh some stale
Fading and gleaming.
Sand sticks to my skin
A rough paste
It slips through my toes
Polishing it’s surface
As it’s done to so many
And the waves roar.
The roar.
The rumble and the tumble
The crash and the bang
Merge into sweet serenity.
In Search of Suffering
The skies are grey
And the air is cold
Walking through here
Is for only the bold
So pelt me with rain
And whip me with winds
Chase me with thunder
For all of my sins.
I plead for this pain
As I stand In the rain
I do not refrain
There’s so much to gain.
For when the winds subside
And we lay down inside
The pleasures we feel
Will be oh so very real
Such appreciation exists
With only true suffering
So mother nature I beg you
Go on with the bludgeoning.