Today I am learning to be real.

First, I awoke without making more noise than the bed does as I escape its embrace.

I breathed through my nose,

Tasting the aroma of everything I could percieve with my eyes closed.


     Again, with my eyes closed,

     I touched my face.

     Carefully at first, then almost roughly; aggressively,

     Enjoying the sensation of pressure on my hands and face.

     I carefully listened to the sound of birds

     While straining to hear the distant whine of a truck.

     At the same time,

     I watched the little specks

     (Which I believe to be cells floating in the aqueous solution of my eyes,

     Magnified into clarity by their very closeness)

     Drift against the blue background of sky,

     Darting in and out of perception

     With every slight movement of my eyes.


          I felt the difference of sun and sunset.

          I lay in my car, listening to Classical music,

          The sun heating me to a sweat, even with the windows open.

          Then, as the sun went down, a chill became present

          In the breeze that ruffed my shoestrings as my legs

          Poked defiantly out of the window on the driver's side of the car.

          A chill that became cool, then cold.

          I rolled up the window and radiant heat

          Suddenly made a small furnace of my left cheek.

     That, too, passed away into the coolness of the night,

     And the whole time, I waited for an Inspiration.

     A gift from ---



               And nothing happened, except that I learned

          A little more about real.

     Life is real.

     I am an expression of life as we know it.

     I am real.

     Whatever abounds within my mind is real

     To me only.


          Whatever abounds without me and everyone else is real


          But I have trouble describing how I interact to everything



When I have this problem, I learn something;

I realize

That there are times in my life when

I am

So confused that I choose to become unrealistic,


The other way around.

I just slowly fade away from




Views: 104

Comment by Skypixiezero on June 30, 2012 at 6:48am

Fading away from reality at times is perfectly real. Yer doin' it right!


Comment by Christopher S. Dunn on June 30, 2012 at 7:28am

:) sort of like that Chesire Grin you so ably manage, yeah?  It's like this:








Hee hee hee.

Comment by Christopher S. Dunn on June 30, 2012 at 7:49pm

Thanks, Kenneth!

Comment by Christopher S. Dunn on July 1, 2012 at 5:57am

Thanks Veronica!  Hope he comes over and pays it some attention.

Comment by Myriad on July 1, 2012 at 7:07pm

Just checking all the posts here.  I am not able to appreciate poetry, a lack in my make-up.  Interesting ideas tho...

Comment by Jenny on July 2, 2012 at 6:56am

How true. We have to allow our focus to be on the here and now in order to perceive. I've been on a quest to live more in the moment for the last several years. I believe its how we can feel more alive, less planning and multitasking, more living and experiencing raw life.

Comment by Christopher S. Dunn on July 2, 2012 at 8:03am

Gina, don't feel bad.  Let me ask you this:

You like music with lyrics?  If so then you do and can appreciate poetry.  I'll be honest, there are times when I see a poem and my head just sort of internally collapses in on itself and all I can see are a jumble of meaningless letters blocked into equally incomprehensible words, all juxtaposed in such a way as to prevent me from even divining a pattern, much less a meaning of significance to my brain.  So it happens even to poets apparently.  No worries.

Jenny: Yeah, living in the Now, being present, existing in the moment, all that crap.  :D

I live my life along all three axes of the Human Construct called Time.  That is to say, I remember my past and the events of my life with great clarity, while being right here in this moment, which is nearly continually spent contemplating how things are, how things happen, what's going on right now -- and with all that, I look to the future and wonder, how is it going to look, what's going to be invented, are we going to live as a species ten, twenty, fifty yeares from now?

There's nothing wrong with planning and multi-tasking -- in it's appropriate place.  Example: Once I was at Yosemite and I was looking for deadfall wood to gather for a fire.  At Yosemite in the High Country, you can't break wood off trees legally.  I cheated a little bit.

There I am, looking for dead branches and I'm already a couple hundred yards from my campsite.  The place has been picked cleaner than a carcass by vultures of any deadfall.  And I picked a very un-traveled path!  I look around me, wondering, "How am I going to make coffee without a damn fire?"  I always bring a percolator pot and coffee when camping.

All this is going through my head and I spot this huge, dead pine tree.  When I say huge, it easily rose eighty to a hundred feet above me, ending in a torn off top that was probably about the thickness of a telephone pole.  The base was big enough to take maybe three people to wrap their arms around it.

The whole thing is dead.  Bleached nearly bone white and the nearest branches have already been broken off.  The closest branch that could make fire wood was about fifteen feet above me.  I could climb it and break off a few branches, maybe.

So all that was a sort of planning/multi-tasking sort of thinking -- all of it objective oriented on me getting my morning cup of coffee.  I looked for ways to get wood, to get coffee going so I could have a nice cup and I was planning on how to go about that.

Once I started climbing, though -- totally different story.  No past, no present, no future, only now and the next instant of grasping, groping my way higher up to branches I could use.

So there is an appropriateness to our abilities to problem solve, sort and collate ideas, tasks and objectives even out in the wilds.  For the same reason, though, it is just as appropriate to let our legs stick out defiantly on the driver's side of the car while we contemplate the sun on our cheeks, the dust motes in the air swirling above our faces and the smell of the falling leaves in the wet gutters of a parking lot and nothing more than just living in that moment, that now.

That example is really the opening of an upcoming blog post about the first time I saw a bear when I wasn't at a zoo.

Thanks to all for reading and commenting!

Comment by Christopher S. Dunn on July 2, 2012 at 8:23am

You may translate it at your leisure, Veronica with the admonition that I would be honored.


You need to be a member of Our Salon to add comments!

Join Our Salon


Hooking up on BS

Posted by Robert B. James on June 24, 2019 at 7:47am 5 Comments

Just a Little Too

Posted by Doc Vega on June 24, 2019 at 1:39am 0 Comments

Water View II

Posted by koshersalaami on June 23, 2019 at 3:00pm 11 Comments

The Merlin Of BindleSnitch

Posted by Robert B. James on June 23, 2019 at 7:07am 7 Comments

Old Soft Shoe (POEM)

Posted by J.P. Hart on June 22, 2019 at 1:00pm 4 Comments

I saw one Mountain Lion

Posted by Robert B. James on June 22, 2019 at 8:00am 3 Comments

© 2019   Created by lorianne.   Powered by

Badges  |  Report an Issue  |  Privacy Policy  |  Terms of Service