Writer • Musician
Reading John Muir's My First Summer in the Sierra makes me wish that over the past few years, I had kept a more comprehensive journal detailing my own travels, along with my many encounters and experiences in Los Angeles; as opposed to what I fear might only amount to scattered, disconnected ramblings and loose sketches based on the things I …
When I'm on the move, I write in verse Small poems to most accurately or honestly reflect the things going on around me, and how I feel about those things Often times, most of the time, these poems aren't any good But other times, they turn out alright. Simple. To the point. Just getting the …
The guitar case bears the sacred marks from where you've been Not too far but you've got the scars The stars at night still grin You look out yonder and see bright green Deep in the swamps of mud memory That one summers eve, outside New Orleans long before Yosemite and the mighty Sequoia trees …
your eyes begin to open, you look out long, pour over your mythology, over the scattered clouds across the desert, your precious afternoon the desert you know well, probably the same old New Mexico state road On the morning so cold, when you stood all alone with the night the night the night you were …
Ren Michael 