GoGo on a Page

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Location: Midwest, United States

"Power lines, my travlin' partner on this ride. Dripping, pulling - up and down, in this sing song, their lullaby blends with the swaying train. I curl myself into this journey; folding myself up into this pocket of time. Old familiars greet me - that swing set in the back yard, the ruins of an old church covered in new birth and old - mixed with unremembered newness." Journal Entry, October 13, 2005~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~All words are copyrighted by GoGo on a Page/gogoroku.

Sunday, September 30, 2007


Congrad to the Chief for running 2:04:27 in your first half marathon!



Thursday, September 27, 2007

randomness from the last month or so...


Thursday, September 20, 2007

always ready to go...

I sat in a room tonight, listening to another passer-by pass by. She told me a story of a stormy old road that I know. She told the story of not staying but going; she carried nothing with her, so she could always go. She talked of London, 2 years from now. She talked of Denver along the way. Her words drifting off the lip, I watched myself unfold. Leave it all and start over. This mirror reflection in a sandy orange shirt spoke my journey back at me.

What do you say to the concave mirror speaking, this serendipitous event colliding into my obscure reality?

I sat there and listened. Traveled her lines into my own story. That couch picked up on the side of the road, the dishes passed along from a friend. Stay simple and own nothing ‘cause you’ll be leaving it all in the end. She spoke of what to carry while unfurling baggage we picked along the way. Without a doubt she was not gonna stay.

It’s a casual conversation, neither of us met before. My road and hers happened to come across the same door. I didn’t know when I opened it, what this time had in store.

Now I sit here thinking, trying to wrap up this time. Two passers-by passed by and I said goodbye to that silly old road that I know. The one where I’m always leaving; always got someplace else to go. Nothing to carry, no one to know. Just me on my journey, so I’m always ready to go!

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Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Umber stained leaf by leaf: free thought

Autumn’s arrived, under full bellied skies, grey and bulbous with rain. She brings a fresh air, crisp to all those hot days. I watched her seep into the neighborhood, umber’d stained highlights in the canopy. If you were not looking, you would not notice her filling the veins leaf by leaf, a subtle introduction of her grace. I saw her calling card and knew she was about to make her entrance.

She came in full force a few days ago. Morning ran thick with chilly winds, rain cried from the clouds, only to bring sunny afternoons. The air though, this is her signature, assured response that she is taking over the scene. My clothes become layers of long sleeves and socks. I begin to wonder, should I carry a jacket?

Autumn. I am not sure what to do with her. Summer was my season, warm and thick with sunlight. I walked bright streets in the later night, saw the fruits of her comfort grow thick and ripe. She is the grower; she is laid back and all about being outside. But there is no reason to walk gingerly in the grace of autumn’s form forming into the season where summer’s birth, harvested, is reaped with rewards.

I think that’s why I stand in Autumn, trepidation lingering…

While I played and laughed under summer’s growing light, I found myself sticking around this town instead of moving. I made the decision to stop pushing forward this matter of being somewhere else, to be exactly where I was. I liked it…under summer’s sun. I liked my company too, she was me learning to let go and just be. And here I am, wondering, still a little nervous that what grew inside of me, will garner me stronger through autumn’s colder months. Am I the clichéd grasshopper about to be shut out in the cold? Autumn, she’s cold this year.

Ah, but in truth, I do love autumn’s hand. She plays her cards with crisp elegance – prickled fingers and warm bond fires, subtle smells of leaves raked, sunrises are a flush of color under brewing skies. This nervous worry doesn’t have anything to do with her really. It’s all about me, letting the effects of just being play out, in yet another season in this town. It's feels harder after the first season!

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