Lost River Hostel Poetry

Found myself a new direction.

Wandered away from all the infections

Of modern life.

Found a place inna woods

Away from manufactured strife.

Found a deck of cards

And people who also wander far.

The cards speak of nature

And the people of adventure.

Hostels feel safer than a hotel.

Samhain with strangers.  

Samhain with ancestors.

Samhain with friends.

Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again!

I wish to be ephemeral

Because if I stay for too long

I forget all but one song.

So in my life they come,

They stay,

They go,

And they arrive again.

So near the void

So close the heart

So far away

We are apart.

One thing


Sends a heart a flutter.

A touch, a kiss,

I know that I do miss,


Telling stories round a fire

Travelers know desire.

Watching how people tick,

We learn treat and trick.

Roaming here and stopping there,

I see more than I can fear.

We’re adults now,

Still truant,

Still vagrant,

Still vibrant.

Things can really go from zero to sixty.

I remember before my ukulele

Lost in the dark with no way to speak.

Then there were the times before sobriety.

Before my first kiss

And that softball catch I missed.

Glowing with fireflies and tree-lights

Experiencing every ephemeral instant.

Wordless retreat.

Unquestioning obedience.

Without protest.

We obey.

We are conditioned to become


At the mercy of the majority.

At the mercy of money.

At the mercy of our mothers.

Break free.


Learn no.

My life transparent

For those literarily inclined.

For one who reads

And who may care to see,

A captains log

From a bodily ship.

There was a winter in my soul

That which the world reflected.

It was a choice

To clear my internal cloudy sky,

Like some rainbow pegasi.

And now I sit way up high

Watching cars go by on by.

The cold, the wet, the dark,

I do detest.

Not getting out of bed,

Although I do not need the rest,

Stuck in a paralyzing in-between

My dreams and a dreary reality.

Sometimes the dreams are all light

They avoid carnal delight and skip

Straight to a deathly fright.

Still, an imaginary hell,

Can be preferable

To very real discomfort.

Misery, pain, and suffering

Relate in an equation.

Pain is inevitable, suffering is not.

If misery is in the in-between,

That’s where the choice is begot.

If I am in bed, and the cold outside of my blankets is painful,

Will I remain miserable?

Or will I build a fire?

Will I accept and problem solve?

Or will I wallow, and drag company

To lay with me

Within my misery.

Common property receives common




That’s why a hoe knows the best of

Both worlds.

She’s spoiled, adored, beaten, and ignored.

Think about the kind of stranger

You want to be.

The cold, the wet,

They make me upset.

I am native to gnarly winters.

However, I avoid them

For they are not my pleasure.

I find much more treasure

On the sunny side of life.

Half up half down,

Can’t believe I’m still around.

Got a nickel in my pocket

And a pocket in my jacket.

Got a spring in my feet

And I know that life is neat.

Half for me, half for you,

We all get what we are due.

Sharing is caring,

And boundaries are too.

People here people there,

There are people everywhere.

Some play guitar,  

Some wander far,

Some settle for subpar.

To each their own,

We do be what we is.

A lucky trip

With sunny days

And days that drip.

My friends and I play

And enjoy another day.

Playing house in our shared home.

4 thoughts on “Lost River Hostel Poetry

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