Writer • Musician
My feet were in Madrid. My head was lost somewhere in the woods of America. Technically I had no home, and for the better part of a month, I’d been on the road before heading to Europe. I'd left the west coast. I'd grown to love it, but the world outside was calling. I started …
at night rain falls neath soft neon lights between the old walls of Vienna, as people laugh & take in the sights and the piano plays for the end of days in a broken-down cafe I hear a song, sudden like a waltz some ancient dance I remember well the woman beneath the glass and …
I’ll tell ya something brother poetry is our return to truly democratic ordeals, the art form of the people empowered by the firm grip forged in fire now cold steel of the world the word at times spoken other times written it is a return to language unfiltered without ever being second guessed unless you …
An ancient creek breathes brand new Strayed off far enough found you unassuming, child lived a thousand years oblivious to the war the crime Do you know of time? Have you heard the news? What do you say? What’s to come through? Or do I ask too soon? Ancient creek Whispering softly, echoing mystery and flowing …
In developing a habit, we usually anchor ourselves with how many days in a row we can keep it going. Let’s say the habit is meditating. After a good 21 days, it’s a safe bet that we’ve developed it into working order; but after that point, we might easily fall into the trap of maintaining …
fear to extend a hand open up, I stand in the streetlights of Paris, in Saint-Germain sure they drive me wild lovers walking along the Seine, they leave so it's just me and the river, I could jump in I hear you Still, of course I still hear the whisper as ever calling to me …
Continue reading "Seine Reflections #2 (Afraid to Love You)"
Visions of Vltava (Moldau) I returned to the front desk the next morning and asked Orsolya for a few recommendations on things to do in town. I was interested in hearing some music, and I asked her for the best places to go and whether it was easy to get tickets to the State Opera …
Not long ago a few hours maybe/came the dreadful realization that I stood alone on streets of New Orleans, haunted by rumor the spell of a girl I’d come to know well in just an instant & she’s a part of me now, so I’m haunted spellbound & cursed. I had my guitar with me, …
Beyond notion You are unfolding epic thundering enveloping the cosmos, and yet here you are within me, my heart beating quiet, unassuming ever gently within me, yea you are a companion always
I am looking at the blood dripping while listening to the violin Perlman playing Johann Sebastian Bach envisioning illustrating the pages of Chekov and I’m on the trail of Don Quixote as a Spanish guitar plays let’s stop pretending as we look at these paintings lining the halls of the evening museum we’re living we’re …
Yesterday I had me one hell of a good time playing some music for the people. I think I could get used to this. And so the morning has been splendid. MY girl’s telling me that even my skin’s looking good. It could be the sunlight. Could be the moon from last night. Bob Dylan …
Four days of rain in LA says the weatherman here’s Day 1, & outside my window grass has grown covered up the mud the dirt the earth Oh, glorious earth… breathing heart beating let the rain feed you, us all let it fall let it all fall down Outside, my car stands strong and proud …
Man this music is making me feel some kind of way. I’m staying purposely vague. But I will say Dean Martin sounds like a titan, standing tall from the highest mountain in the darkest night beneath the rain and furious thunder. I never really understood so fully, as I feel I do now. & while …
You and I at twilight slow arrival of night, sweet delight day fades out of sight, a howling wind from within, rising Your arms surround me, take me in Zion hall of kings Rising tall as night falls, the silence it brings air is thin, time is still The sky quiet, silent hill You and …
I wrote these poems in the last few pages of a brown, tattered old pocket journal that I kept with me as I started into the Sierra Nevada, heading out of California and toward the east coast; seeing for the first time everything from General Sherman Tree to Yosemite Valley and the Tuolumne Meadows. I wrote …
Organic You stand outside the glass wall, separated from a fog You know what to do You only must choose The voice speaks to you All you’ve got to do is listen When it speaks to you Just listen And follow the path set out for you According to your own wishes. Break the glass …
I got to the hostel around 8. It was built into the top two floors of an otherwise mostly vacated building just a few blocks south of Andrassy Avenue, the main drag running through town. When I say town, I mean Pest, which flanks the east side of the River Danube. Together with Buda, on …
Ren Michael 