Nathan Arizona

Dreaming of the Afterlife

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A boy sat outside the village looking at the grave yard at the mesa’s edge. “What ever happened to the dead?” he pondered. “Are they living some where else far away?” Skeletons walking around after the day turns to night inspires the boy to dream of the darkness and deepness of rivers. “Are the dead living somewhere else?” Out on the mesa edge he prays every morning. He prays, waiting for the sun to come up; to come over and talk to him. Every night, he dreams of the medicine that will make him dead. He wants to go see …

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The Early Morning

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dark rain clouds wander the blue sky making the dream come alive a vision of the land singing Then cries the raven from its hollow in the knarled tree that twists its branches into the ancient wind Thunder echoes way across the desert yonder farther than the eyes can see The black rock was the blood of that ancient beast that was slain so long ago the locust begin buzzing and an eagle heralds the dawn when that sun peaks up over the rim of mountains the clouds catch pink-red rays The old man pulls up his trousers because of …

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In Support of Immigration

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Why are Americans so paranoid about illegal immigration? Americans need to stop and think about their own roots… I know of a T-shirt that reads; “Ask an American Indian what they think of illegal immigration!” Think about the hypocrisy Americans have towards illegal immigration, when some of our own ancestors were illegal invaders to this continent. A lot of these “illegal” immigrants are indigenous people that were here long before Columbus set foot. These Mexicans are risking their lives and dying out in the desert for what I have. That is an indicator helping me realize how privileged I am …

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Elbow Canyon Excursion

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the Hard blue sky on a hot day tires me, under the sweltering bright fire of the sun. I’ve been on this dirt trail for hours inside a cab that lacks basic air conditioning. I started my journey crawling slowly through a valley of creosote southeast of Littlefield, Arizona. It is about 1000 feet above sea level. I was heading towards the mountains that border the western flank of high desert known as the Arizona Strip country. I approach Elbow Canyon, which is one of the rockiest roads I have taken this rig on; jagged and short switchbacks lead all …

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Changes

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I am wondering through what beauty is left… There is hardly a place to go where man has not intruded. Everything is changing. I dream of what happened long ago. What was Earth like then? There is a divine power today, not all is gone. I believe that the sky and the landscape will change. People will have no part in it, if they are not worthy. Strange things come to me on the wind. The sun in this quiet world is talking to me. The Earth is helping me dream too. The ravens are excited, and chatter the news …

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Voices of the Past

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“The mountains are the last things that are remaining old and undisturbed, but even now we are building things into them. I still can go in them, camp out and watch the stars; sleep and dream in the night by an old fire; and wonder some where else other than this realm of confusion. It truly is something simple, easy, and very righteous. It is being alone and hearing the voices of the past…” I composed this in my late teens, around the time I turned eighteen and was graduating from high school. You could say I was pretty lucky …

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Heart of a Resistant Land

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It is gusty tonight, as the fiery sun sinks into the western mountains Stars flood heavens deep The ancient desert sings The voice of the mountain wails through the pinion singing with the streams of yellow grass and sage The basin below is cold and dusty The mountain wind moves all night The Coyotes run the midnight hills yipping and howling in the heart of this resistant land Never to be taken! Nothing is controlled Nothing can rob the soul of the wild

My Destiny

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No person will hinder me from venturing into shadow creeping into the deeper wild where the wind sings ageless further ‘n further away from my captors …the wraiths of civilization No individual will persuade me from the call of creation forward, into beauty of earth and sky.

Storms of Summer, Finally Here

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The drumming rain surrounds the little adobe this summer eve. In the morning the rising sun soaks the clouds in radiant light. The sun finally breaks from shadow, and dark golden light warms the window. Just before everything awakens, I take a morning stroll smelling the wet sage and creosote. The red rock landscape is burning fire red in morning twilight. Thunderclouds hug the mountains in the distance. All these mourning doves have made their encampment around my quarters, enclosed by a few cottonwood. Around 8 or 9 P.M. a mourning dove flies into the door hatch and pokes its …

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Another Small Victory

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Tonight, when I checked my email, I was pleasantly surprised! One of my poems; A Spring Desert Dawn won second place in a scholarship competition for Dixie State College. It’s actually the first time that I’ve ever attempted to submit something to a literary journal, except to a few online journals.. So this gives me a little hope as to whether I should pursue this little endeavor more. As a writer, I consider my work mostly free verse and experimental.

Pondering Further…

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The wilderness has been my only true friend. Through every trial, it is always there, listening. There is no hostility in the wild. The earth is beautiful, and quiet. No noise, except the mourning dove coming into your camp on an early spring morn, and the river roaring continually, and it has been making noise long before humans. Why did God, Creator, make me human? That is the question I ponder sometime, Why did he make me human?

And So I Ponder…

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Man, today, I really feel on edge, like things are not working out like they should? Somewhere along the line, I made a simple mistake, and now watch things unfold and move away from reach. Sometimes it is very hard to communicate with other humans, and I should just stop worrying for a while. My parents came down to Saint George, and spent a few days down here with me. It is hard to see them go every time, because I want to be near my loved ones. My brother is coming back from New York, this August, and we …

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With Little Sleep…

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Today, I came off an abnormally high plane of ecstasy that wasn’t expected. I’m still just extra happy today? First off, I went and purchased a new pair of shoes. My old ones were battered, and they have survived since I was in Flagstaff. Those good shoes met their end in the garbage can just outside of Target. Walking home, there were enormous spring thunderheads over Saint George with patches of dark blue sky. These new shoes are very comfortable and I had four hours of sleep, last night; maybe this is the recipe? Anyways, I’m getting closer to having …

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Phantoms of the Night

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Way off in those mountains, Phantoms are better left unknown. The sun descends beneath the large red mesa, The clouds soak the sunset glare. It is silent, except for the thunderstorm. A beautiful purple thunderhead expands, Blue lightning ignites and echoes. Hear the wind, and the rain falling On the sandstone mesa. Smell the sage. In the foothills, the wind whips the juniper jungle. There is a feast; an unearthly celebration going on. They are busy, tonight, somewhere in those hills. They dance and shift in dark caves. In cobweb networks they sing.

Sun in a Quiet World

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I travel far from the city. I leave the colony. I am moving away from this community of people. They all struggle as I do. I am apart of them in their world. They are wired like me. There’s no escaping the machine. Yet, every trip away from the colony becomes one little victory over the machine. If you head to the mountains, alone, and stay out there long enough, it starts to change you. I’ve gone into the wild enough that I have many stories and experiences to share with my children, and grand children, if I am still …

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My Shipwrecked 4×4

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There’s something a lot worse than a throw-out bearing going out on my 1987 Suzuki. I went a had a shop look over my rig today, and it turns out my worst fears came tp light. The manual transmission needs replacement, on top of an new clutch, and throw-out bearing. This is stressful, because I’m not going anywhere until this is taken care of. So I am short on funds, and it’s time to get creative. A used transmission is going to cost around $200-450 dollars, and the total cost of repair is going to be $600-1000 dolalrs. When buying …

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Cottonwood Grandpa

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There is an old cottonwood, burned by lightning; it has survived longer then most. It’s stands by a muddy river that passes through sedimentary gorges, red plateaus. The river and wind have been moving long before humans and monsters. The landscape is not untouched, because people have been using it for eons. Some of us may know where we originate, and there are many tales of how we came to be. I think of the gnarly cottonwood and call it grandpa. It is sad to see his branches torn… Still though, he is very beautiful standing by the red river. …

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The Man in Black

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How I remember the good ‘ol times: “Hello, I’m Johnny Cash,” As I dwell on the sorrows of humanity and the world, the desert, the animals, the wandering clouds, the sun blazing just before dark, I think of the salad days. Before those days, the old west, and the times that have long sailed into memory. Johnny Cash is a hero and he plays his spirited tunes down the old dirt road we go, the folk songs of our land. The lesser known songs pass into furthest trenches of my mind. There was no self-righteousness in Mr. Cash, especially when …

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1987 Suzuki Samurai

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I’ve done two crazy things in one month. I traded a DSLR while bartering for a 4×4 and sold my notebook for off-road tires. So it’s back to the library when I need to update. For a desert dweller it is justified. The 1987 Suzuki Samurai is a great 4×4. My cousin says it goes places that his Jeep cannot because it’s compact. It ain’t no speed demon, it tops about 65 miles an hour, 70 on a lucky day. It does have a new engine. There are places that I have visited that were once inaccessible, I had missed out on …

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Deep in the Precambrian

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Bottomless mountains rise above the Virgin River Gorge It is a strange day on top of Sullivan Canyon. Thick white crystalline ledges dive into precambrian hell. Pegmatite yields pomegranate beads of rich garnet. Teethy shadows cling to desert oak with fingernails. Manzanita grows exceptionally thick in twisty stands, hard to push my sweaty body through. Winged phantoms fear not my approach. From the bowels something growls with enchantment. Somewhere among the whispering Juniper forests hides a tunnel leading to another place, a vortex that radiates with unknown passions. I turn on the headlamp, looking for treasure, cities full of creatures …

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Something at Indian Peak

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Whatever it was it was moving through the trees in our direction. All the small pinion saplings had been stripped from their tips. Maybe this is what engaged our imaginations? But the sound of snapping dead wood and breaking branches grew steadily. Perhaps it was coming from the limestone caves on the mountain above? The first time my cousin heard the comotion he came stumbling over the top of the hill asking me if I had heard it. Then we both froze in silence and I shouted in the direction of the noise. Both of us bolted back down to the Jeep in the wash below the hill. We didn;t hesitate. This was somewhere near …

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One Foot Man

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Things should be said, whether or not people choose to believe them. I should quit keeping certain things so secret and open up a bit as to why I am going into the wilderness so much. Out there, certain mysteries have been revealed. the fact is this, I have witnessed a lot of unbelievable things that I fear to tell people because they might not believe. One of these stories involves the one foot man that lives in the Great Basin of Southern Utah. One night I was telling a story of the one foot man to some of my …

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The Unknown River

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I go to a secret place, alonem amd sit on a ledge above the canyon labrynth choked with brush. The numerous finger canyons remain unknown to most. In the summer, the heat soars into the triple digits. Winter is the best time venture in this area, because the Mojave Rattlers hibernate. It is rich with human prehistory. I listen for those that once lived here, and died here. I feel the warmth of the canyon. It is incredible. It starts to get late in the evening, the sun fades. The skeletal mysteries of the night begin to creep. I listen carefully for the noise of the …

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Ravens on the Arizona Strip

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An Amazing world, this little earth strange and magnificent. We were headed to Toroweap Thousands of ravens planed the sky against orange and yellow clouds. They followed us. Timeless things await. So, how do humans stew over the most simple things, such as daily life in a town? I refuse to assimilate. The raven windows the harsh beauty. Arizona Strip, unmolested enjoyed by few ranches, modern homesteads. She still sings the old way. Vivid dreams of Pinion ignite. Simply colorful and intriging. Virmillion Cliffs radiate. Cold wind howls in the pines. Smell fresh winter rain. We passed under raging cloudbursts, …

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The Christmas Dream

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Whether you celebrate Christmas or not, this is one of the rare Christmas poems that I wrote for the season. I wish everybody a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! The Christmas Dream Tonight it snowed, but the fire danced. The lights twinkled on the little spruce tree. The children sang to their grandmother, but now they sleep in their cozy beds. The fire keeps the cabin warm in winter’s deep. The soft bells are jingling in her mind. We go back in time, when Jesus was born. It was a miracle beneath the starry skies of Bethlehem. Across …

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January is Approaching

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In January, the sun barely melts the frost in the morning. The high reaches no more then forty degrees Fahrenheit. The clouds snuggle closer to the earth, and the sun sets further towards the Southwest. Every exhalation is a warm visible steam jetting from the nostrils of creatures able to survive the hostility of the frigid desert. At night, under the moon, groups of Mule Deer bundle together and bed down beneath cottonwoods, near the farm communities. Driving steadily at night, on a frontage road, you drive no faster then thirty to avoid bouncing a buck. Locals go spotlighting in …

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The Desert Calls

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His pillow is an ancient cottonwood. Wind pushes gigantic branches. He loves the twisted tree. His bare feet sift cold yellow sand. The clumps of grass push against his back. The ground is wet and moist from a previous storm. The boy sleeps to the constant summer wind and the singing creek near the reeds.. Just around the corner, big plateaus devour the landscape. He dreams of them. The cottonwood knows and sees everything. Listen to the wind as it travels through the canyons. He’s standing on the top of a butte looking out across Canyon Country. In the distance …

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My Job is Over

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Bad news. It turns out that I won’t be working at the gift shop. The owner hires me, only to have second thoughts and tells me that he can’t afford to hire another employee. So tonight I was a little depressed feeling bad, because I was actually anticipating this job and would’ve enjoyed it. Cookies like me are tough, they never give up! Life is unpredictable. Working there can remain a good memory, but I am not going to let it sadden me any further. The passed week I’ve been missing Flagstaff. Ed Little’s photos of the Peaks are a …

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Travelers

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Going back in time, the soft clouds rewind quickly to those passed centuries. The sky is glowing and the power is sweet. Here they come, people moving across the land, carrying their babes, moving to lower ground for the winter. The sky is always turquoise blue, and the junipers grow wild. They travel passed the red cliffs and head into the Black Ridge country on their way to the land of the whipping sands. Soft and vivid dream quiet like the groves of cottonwood grandpas swaying in the steady wind. The wind pushes the billowing clouds through traveling sky. Locusts …

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Went South Last Night

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I went onto the Arizona Strip last night about thirty miles south of Saint George. I am going to go to Toroweap again and visit that grand place! It?s the 60-90 miles of dirt road that hinders most people from going there. The more time I spend in that country, the more I crave a BLM job there. Last night, I was shooting some photos, and had jump from one location to another so quickly, it almost gave me whip lash! The lighting was constantly changing. I would rush to my car, peel out, and fly to another location, creating …

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