In the early morning, the trolls wander, often disguised as trees.  You can tell them by their luminous eyes that light their hair as if on fire.

© words and picture by Dan DeMarle 2017

Give me the open sea.

Give me a strong boat.

Give me a stout crew.

Give me the wind always at my back.

and I you will find me sailing the seas beyond the farthest stars.

© picture by Dan DeMarle 2017

At the end of the day we all have an appointment in Samarra. Whether we run to it with open arms, whether we crawl to it on all fours, whether we run from it as hard and as fast as we can.  Samarra calls all of us.   When the day comes, when you finally arrive in Samarra, and you open that door, to meet the one waiting there for you.  What will you bring with you?  What will your answer to that final question be?

Thanks to John O’Hara for an excellent read Appointment in Samarra.

1/1/17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

What you find when the snow arrives. This was actually after our last big snow fall, but they looked so much like Easter Eggs.

© words and pictures  by Dan DeMarle 2017

4/16/17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

Some mornings on your walk through the city, you just find something small, big, old, or young, that makes you smile.

4/16/17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

© picture by Dan DeMarle 2017

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

There was once a great bridge. It had houses on it, and buildings. From the street you were hard pressed to tell you were on a bridge, yet underneath a subway ran.

1/22/17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

Life is hardly ever pretty.

We like to pretend it is,

maybe here in America it comes closest to pretty.

In many parts of the world, however,

life is something that has to be fought for,

daily, hourly, every minute.

 

For many in the world, our riches are truly unbelievable

Yet many of us grow tall and twisted,

Trying so hard to hold on to everything we have,

To keep it from any others,

Its ours!! We collectively cry.

You can’t have it.

At the same time telling ourselves that we are good and holy.

Meantimes children literally starve to death,

gassed with poison,

and sold for sex.

 

We are an old and twisted tree

continually thinking we are a tree of gold,

while meantime we are just a 200 year old twisted tree,

growing next to a cemetery in the middle of a nowhere,

of the soul.

 

4/9/17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017