The Wild Side

He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life. He was alone and young and wilful and wildhearted, alone amid a waste of wild air and brackish waters and the seaharvest of shells and tangle and veiled grey sunlight.

Jon Krakauer

…and he dies
alone and wild
in the end

…but, dies happy?
Who can say
of wild things

I was born to be wild
At least that’s the excuse I use
When I pee on the house plants

The term "wild" when applied to plants or plant species refers to those that grow spontaneously in self-maintaining populations in natural or semi-natural ecosystems and can exist independently of direct human action.

At two in the morning
I walked to a nearby golf course

Pitch black darkness

I found my way
To the seventh green
And lay in the evenly cropped grass

Head against the cool earth

I watched the planes fly overhead
Listened to the traffic in the distance

…as if sensing my presence

The sprinklers came to life
Saturating my resting place

It was unnatural
But not wild

Motorbikes at midnight:
The Arsehole’s Goodbye
Sputtering farts into the distance

the wilderness of youth
ever a treacherous path
is shaped so exacting by peers
the way to conform is made clear

A feral child (also called a wild child) is a young individual who has lived isolated from human contact from a very young age, with little or no experience of human care, social behaviour, or language.

Teenage is not so much a number
As the time
When you stop liking your kids

you are the embodiment
Of the wild potential
I have spent

Weekly Theme:
Daydreams / Random Thoughts

Bits and pieces that caught in my mind this week without rhyme or reason.

22 thoughts on “The Wild Side

  1. Mouse, I love your lines about motorcycle riders. When we lived in San Diego, it was a first floor of an apartment building located at T intersection with a 3 way stop. After midnight, the motorcycle ๐Ÿ๏ธ riders showed their disdain by revving their engines. Your poem reminds of those mofos.

    Liked by 1 person

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