Live Encounters Poetry & Writing Volume Three Nov-Dec 2026.
Eight Miles From Nowhere, poems by Ray Whitaker.
Eight Miles From Nowhere
Shirtless, only Birkenstocks on feet in the breeze
sun shining on this mid May day
seated on the bank of the San Juan river.
Weather finally broke here in Colorado
when I can be concerned about sunburned
toes, or be unconcerned,
in this undefined moment of the Now
having turned off the paved road
past a State Park, going on
towards infinity
or maybe be satisfied, with just relaxation
no internet signal here no clawing
distractions of email or phones.
I am not addicted
to those here, not remorseful
their absence replaced by a good wind
off the river flowing fears and concerns down
towards some whitewater
it pops there dissipates vanishes gone
about eight miles away from asphalt.
A river camp that could hold ten sites
however I am solitary, alone,
I am tempted, to shed
clothes, even unclothed the San Juan sings
to me, fast water moving rocks
downstream with the roar of a tympanic roll
a symphony emphasis on a phrase
there the music has taken
us to another place
a road unknown
traveled to a Nirvana
lost
to civilization
that, is a certain dismay.
Endless Range
This set of mountains
moves west, and wester still
until they move north and south
following the six directions.
Their crags speak to the sky
of the events below,
all in the rocky languages
poorly understood by those bound to two feet.
Caressing the earth in moccasins,
he, or was it she
looks about in the craggy heights
for a handhold
in the pegmatite faces of canyons
the reds and blacks in the most deeps,
those purples of sheerness
keeping the less adventurous at bay.
Coming down to the valley
below the gorges of distance barely seen
she, or was it he, knows
that off in the yonder reaches
there might just be a place in that bigness,
to drive their thoughts to.
An abandoned two story ranch house
sits the still, its invisible solitude
quiet now of children’s voices.
The hand split shingles on the roof
still keep the weather out
both the harsh winter snows and warm summer rains
don’t touch the singularity of a dry interior
as if waiting for the family to return
from where they disappeared to, so long ago.
That ranch house perched on the mountain side
has the cook house and porch attached
where a descendant has placed new tin
over it. Then left it again.
And there, under that
is the place where the questions
may have gotten answered,
and maybe not,
perhaps just having raised those inquiries
into the meanings of the lives lived
under the eaves.
Two Stars
Perfectly ten miles high
twinkling off ‘way up there
a desire
moving, as if to come together
where a talking,
a conversation might exist,
the fear of reaching out
makes little sense
in this night’s dark,
it’s stealing in the way
of a profound feeling
of a joining in, a hand touching another.
A nearly full moon
illuminates the wants
of two that live alone
with all they need
almost complete
excepting their persistent shadows of loneliness,
and in the light
of the breaking dawn
its streaks of crimsons and yellows
a pink creeps in
where the purples have given way
from overcoming the dark greys of night.
Do I see you there
waiting for the full light of day
to walk in living deep green woods
to come and talk to me
‘bout your full life
and the wistfulness,
do you see me there too
walking under the only two stars
shining in this restful night sky,
you reaching out from under
the quilt’s warmth to touch
and be touched, be heard in talking with me.
© Ray Whitaker
All writers and poets are writing out of “the Self” however there are directions that the self speaks into, that change. Now Ray’s writing is to put foremost in his work, just who he is writing for. He intends on writing for the everyday man and woman. He firmly believes that poems need to reach into the everyday person’s pictures in their minds, and engage with those. This is where he aims to make a difference in his creative writing. He’s fulfilled when he sees that his work is provoking thought in his readers. Ray has six books published, and two chapbooks. His work has been published in fourteen different countries. He’s working on two new manuscripts now. Ray was a Delegate to both the 2023-24 Writer’s International Panorama Festival in January, and is a Delegate to this year’s 2025 Festival He participates regularly with several zoom poetic events worldwide. Among them, he has been spotlighted on a US National Poetry broadcast from Quintessential Listening Poetry Online Radio In April, ’24; and also an International Poetry Recital hosted by The Fertile Minds out of India this past April 19th, 2025. In May he was the reading featured poet in David Leo Sirois’ Spoken Word Online, associated with Spoken Word Paris. He is Moderator for Michael Lee Johnson’s FB “My Voice,Your Words- Poetry In Action” page; and Editor for Masticadores Canada Journal.