Caprock Canyons

This is where the buffalo used to roam...and Indians...and outlaws...and you can still feel their souls.

Ode to D. Thomas

Gutter: a place of fallen solitude in the darkest hour
A drink or two, or three, or enough to get through ‘til morning
Irish Coffee to forget that friends fuss over drinks and poems. Who’s kiddin’ who as the
A march that ended with Sousa choking on his vomit from the gin and tonic played on from a record player in the 6th Ave. apartment.
Sunrise will rise and the wordsmith will forget that his feelings matter no more to her than a moon that has sunk in the sky too soon on a morning made to ruin drowning souls.
Waddle through the door, trip on the cobblestones. Poets die too young of broken hearts and broken glasses in a Greenwich Village Bar.
The white horse came riding that night after he drank a drink of marathon drinks. He was going for the record. A competitor of words and the muse behind those words. A scotch brewed in Wales by a woman that he caroused in a horse carrol on his mother’s family farm.
Scent of death lingered in the air. Words that perpetuated the lips of a dying man’s conundrum. Drink more to write more. Drink and be merry. Drink to live. Drink to die.
Drank to remember the memories he once lived. Drunk to forget the lives in his memory.

Solitude v. Loneliness

There exists in every person's life a place and time when they realise the difference between solitude and loneliness.
It is a tradition that is purely human. It is a tradition in many cultures, throughout the history of man, that leads to man being spiritually aware of God.
The interesting notion of this spiritual recognition may be coined with different words and slightly different ideas in different cultures at different times, but the underlying component is the same. Man must realise that he is not a simple wandering body on earth, but a soul created to Love and be Loved. God's plan for this is sometimes unexpected and at other time uncomprehensible, but the plan is always occuring and has always occured. There had always been evidence of it and always will be evidence of God touching souls. Man, when God wants him to take notice, will take notice of this evidence.

Solitude fosters growth of the spirit, and loneliness will eat away at the spirit, which could eventually lead to man's insanity, or separation from God.

This is not an unfamiliar task to ancient Indian tribes of this continent. When a boy was deemed ready to become a man by the tribe, the shaman would prescribe a 3-5 day vision quest. The boy was sent into the wilderness by himself with no food and water and herbal hallucinogens to enhance the quest of the boy. They say the first night is the toughest because the difference between solitude and loneliness must be recognized by the boy. When he endures this painstaking realisation that he is not lonely but one with God, (though Indian culture perceives this as different than the Christian view point) he recognises his spiritual self for the first time. He recognises that God is teaching him. God is there and he is not alone. He is in a state of solitude.

I recently took a two day solo camping trip out where tribes used to roam, and where vision quests occurred like the ones described. God touched me in a way I have never felt. God taught me the importance of Love and being Loved. I was ready to listen and learn when I was in solitude.