RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Friday, March 24

old days back road grocery
store, renovated three times
over, remains abandoned

Thursday, March 23

"uptown" as defined by what
when speaking of small town stalled
by dying United States

freestyle sonnet #081: CONTEMPLATING NAS, FINANCE, & THE WHEEL OF TIME


Nas wrote, "That buck that bought a bottle could've struck
the lotto" in '94... 'Til infinity
I will likely grapple with my feelings of stuck
in financial traps (plus ruts). Masculinity

of toxic nature sprayed on my insides so that
not being able to provide without asking
is seen as weak (plus embarrassing). All this fat
of the land has been skimmed (it seems)... multi-tasking

with skilled proficiency no longer gets ahead
(plus chokes heart), so dreams tend to die on psychic vines.
Oh well... walk this life with safety net in the red
(and underwater), and wait for Wheel of Time's tines

to turn the meek to surface, and superficial
beneath... Wheel of Time remains most judicial.

(The Bird Tribe - meaning my family - currently got a GoFundMe going to try and purchase the land surrounding our compound, to work into the compound and make a plant sanctuary for my ol' lady's herbal practice, and an extension of my illegitimate arts, and also to keep from being broken into tiny plots of power gridlock. Please visit the page, and drop five on it if you can.)
tie a ribbon round the old
mossy poplar; remember
all the elves who have fallen

Wednesday, March 22

watching March Madness on work
computer, minimizing
quickly as necessary

freestyle sonnet #080: BUILDING SANCTUARY AGAINST ABSTRACT MATH

(The Bird Tribe - meaning my family - currently got a GoFundMe going to try and purchase the land surrounding our compound, to work into the compound and make a plant sanctuary for my ol' lady's herbal practice, and an extension of my illegitimate arts, and also to keep from being broken into tiny plots of power gridlock. Please visit the page, and drop five on it if you can.)

Manmade math mostly builds off abstract foundation,
thus land lacks value unless fractured/fragmented
into parts and parcels - complex exploitation
of raw (wild) into refined (planned), represented

by bank's co-sign to development but never
to leave alone. And yet land (Earth) best left alone
helps those broken by subtraction or dissever
from Earth, who also have no abstract value known

(thus "broke" as well), to reconnect with larger whole,
and hopefully find wholesome larger than any
lump sum. The biosphere's not pieces to control,
but intertwined place where peace is - vast and plenty,

for those working to cultivate sanctuary,
(while manmade divisions work to the contrary).
ancient style dirtgod quartz mound,
accumulated one sack
of backwoods rocks at a time

Tuesday, March 21

wild harvested railroad spike
array scattered around Bird
Tribe Compound, in hundred shades