whimsical moon.

whimsical moon.

the moon
our close friend
endeavors
to be full again;

but yet
in essence
settles in
as a crescent;

for all the wanting
all the waxing
and the waning
the back and forth of it
the orbit;

maybe the root
of monogamy
the chemistry
the bond
is this
astrology;

one day to live
on this pond
like a lily pad
to transit
the rest of the pond;

see you tomorrow-
maybe even in the day,
my friend,
always, over head
with a new wink
or a full nod
your cratered grey eye
keeps ever vigilant guard.

and so fall has come…

and so fall has come…

Amazing how a blink and doze and a woke and it seems like summer has gone without a proper goodbye, a send off, a wave, no, all of a sudden last night the gauge struck zero, breath was visible, animals curled up less bothered by my comings and goings… for yes, fall is here, and soon the leaves will leave the trees, exposing their hosts to the cruel cold tongue lash approaching, retreating inwards, as things do, awaiting to cross back out that corridor, past the corner of the new year… into spring, but that seems a far dream from now, first comes the trick or treaters, then men of snow, frosty mornings, frozen windshields, and chilled toes…

under the basking moon
the cool tide shifts
for sweat hides swiftly now
leaves tremble and turn
squirels bury their treasures
the mother is tucking the edges now
the silks of spiders grows vacant

the world around…

the world around…

and I shall feel the flow
and know-
how things go in this world
I shall put my hand
to the ground
and know
the sound
how things go in in this world
and I will know
my time is short
here, on this earth
but yet, will understand, in this short time
for I know
each breath is…. measured
against time
until mine
runs out.

note: easily one of the best debut albums by any band in my lifetime, such as it is…

mind numb & realizations (rat race traffic tidings)

mind numb & realizations (rat race traffic tidings)

what year is this? that is called a rhetorical device, meant to ask you a question internally, with your voice, or with what you assume or presume to be my voice inside your head, that’s right, this is a conversation, essentially, words are heard even in print, but anyway, back to my original thought, I think traffic is my kryptonite, no, it most likely is, and also stupidity stacking, which seems normal here in new jersey when considering road work. the main thing is, even if you know what gnaws you down to a nub, can you avoid being ground down? it is like jousting except I do not have a lance, so I just pray I stay upright after I get smacked, ok, maybe that is a bit dramatic, I am known to have verbal flair after all, so, this am, my usual trek to work, all of 26 miles which takes a good hour here on the hallowed road known as the jersey turnpike, that’s fine, I am kind of used to that grind (crazy what passes as normal…), but then I arrive in the ‘sack (Hackensack)… (sack is a good name for the place, most of it is reminiscent of a sack of… well, it comes from a horse and it ain’t apples…), our lovely town benefactors are doing some sort of amorphous road work directly in front of my office, now… some signage would be nice… some sort of traffic direction perhaps? nah… I mean it is only 2026 here so I suppose I have to wait for flying cars and such before a little thing like… a sign… so that the whole traffic situation isn’t gnarled worse than melisandra’s true form, yes, a day can go from a red priestess you want to bed to instant flop, and today, was such a day, to compound things, the einsteins (clearly) that run such things pick a day where there is alternate parking… so, in a town where they keep banning parking more spots over the years, they conspire to make matters worse… yes, first world problem, I agree, but things that are clearly avoidable and/or ameliorated with simple gestures… well, rub a dub nub… not a good way to start the day, I try and paint on a smile, let coffee take me away like Calgon, but some days… well, Tuesday to be exact, I get my ass knocked off that horse via a lance of thousand punches, and fall, and it smells like a sack, or maybe shoe polish.

*postscript… of course there was a horrendous accident going home tonight on the GSP (garden state parkway)… I suppose the deity is aligned with the municipalities in these parts… and again… should there not be some signal that goes out to cars “hey. 3 lanes blocked 3 miles ahead, merge right”… we have the emergency broadcast system (which I have never heard a real emergency on…)… but not a simple alert/APP to handle that other obvious stuff… ? jeez… what a joke…

**postscript 2… I must have really pissed on the altar of all that controls minutia… this AM the Sack was still… a sack but I was blessed by a big rig hauling lumber cutting me off to my exit and then obscuring my view as a low boy with that kind of load on local streets kind of takes up a bit of space… I had to make an illegal u-turn just to park my car and be reasonably late to the office. Avoidable things… avoidable things… I just laughed this morning… as I can’t make up these dumb narratives but yet we are the rats on the wheel are we not?

**postscript 3… another massive accident on the GSP last night… I guess I can turn this into a bitchin’ about traffic log… I’d rather a yule log or a swiss log… but hey… we can’t always choose which logs we are stuck with, or that smack us in the noggin…

crucible

crucible

noun

  1. A vessel made of a refractory substance such as graphite or porcelain, used for melting and calcining materials at high temperatures.
  2. An extremely difficult experience or situation; a severe test or trial
  3. A place, time, or situation in which different social forces or intellectual influences come together and cause new developments.

The first is a clear (easy) metaphor, or perhaps the melting down of the next 2 to fit into one said vessel. The sea is not always calm, in fact most times not, there are storms and all in between, so cherish the times where the tide laps like a sleepy kitten and the vast reaches of molten water are like satin glass, where a pebble thrown births perfect circles outward from each other, pacing in uniform to the horizon…

how music is time travel…

how music is time travel…

from a super nintendo video game, yeah, call me a dork (or an old school gamer) but imagine hearing this for a few hours as you battle amazing imaginary things on your 16 bit console… it is lovely… and totally invokes the feel of the game and wonder… the whole soundtrack is amazing and has been re-recorded and done by an orchestra actually (as have many games such as Legend of Zelda)… so this is a thing… or I keep telling myself that…but ..music is time travel, it can take you back... to that time in your life… music is an amazing thing… birds do it, other animals … perhaps? maybe music is the real key to life.