Beauty & the Banality…

Beauty & the Banality…

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6.28.18

pastels formed as clouds

pressed up against the sky

late summer afternoon

spring like storms rolling through

watercolors

portend the approaching moon


That is the view from the parking lot of Wegmans supermarket in Woodbridge NJ… cmon! what isn’t inspiring about that… I am remiss to keep posting instant material but.. posting something new is just so much more … um… “new” feeling, boy am I profound! I want to get to stuff I wrote the past month or so (stuff I really like)… I will but I have been overwhelmed by instant lately and it makes some of my other stuff seem stale when you are birthing work directly, almost immediately.  In  the same car trip (my ultra cool exciting ride home from work) I wrote this about an hour earlier…


6.28.18

on the golden shores

of my dreams

the sea glistens

tides rise and fall

of shimmering sequins

the sun bathes healing light

malice is an unheard rumor

spite a harmless shadow upon the ground

I take

a deep breath

on the golden shores, of my dreams


Once again I was writing this in my head while driving (muttering to myself like a madman)… and that is what sucks about cell phones/ear buds by the way.. in NYC you used to be able to pick out the truly crazy people who were talking to themselves… now they are in disguise!  anyhoo…. so I was at my fave rest area penning the above. Maybe after I become a renowned poet (after I am dead 200 years) they will name this rest stop in my honor… oh, the immortality of it all.  I would be honored if families stopped to pee in my honor…  I probably won’t actually be honored as I will most certainly be dead.


music?  I am going with a more recent fave of mine… tycho, he is also an artist (beside music)… I have to say his tshirt I bought is like the damn softest thing ever…  but forget all that and enjoy the music (electronic, not dance… thoughtful ambient ?) wait for the moment @ 4:34 …. brilliance… tycho “epoch” (his latest work)

Orphans…

Orphans…

person wear green jacket
Photo by Studio 7042 on Pexels.com

My “process” is pretty much one and done, it is just what I do, how I write.  So, as much as I would like to think (or promise myself internally) that I will get back to these.. I probably won’t (if I am honest about it).. so here are just some lines I scribbled, sort of orphans of mine.  Maybe it will inspire out there in the wordpress-verse some other mind.


 

 

5.25.18

rumors ride a whisper

innuendo grows into a roar


5.23.18

the wind is the devil

before the storm

to stir the brew


5.4.18

winter sunlight

summer sunlight

all depends on the angle of your altitude


5.4.18

tales of wonder

no, tales of horror

buried in fathoms

depths below

*this was specifically written thinking about the Andrea Gail (the boat from “the perfect storm“), in my head I want to write an epic poem about that, I am fascinated by the sea.. but I guess not enough !


5.7.18

I started counting

the pattern on the guardrails

three, one, three, one

some would see four

*This was written sitting in brutal traffic on the NJ turnpike… looking at the guardrail


music?  I play guitar (well, I aim to be better at it…) one of my faves is Eric Johnson, here he is live “Song for George“, just a man and his acoustic guitar.. so damn pure.. and so damn good.

Parts Unknown

Parts Unknown

“I eat, I write and I travel”

that is the open to Anthony Bourdain’s show “Parts Unknown” (which just came on now)… and you know what, that is a poem.   How quick the media moves on.  Anthony killed himself just last week but it seems like years ago.  But those words I quote are just full of everything if you think about it.  We eat, we work , we travel… through this life.

We eat

we work

we travel

through this life


complete live thought, posted, I think I will try to sleep now.

Perspective

Perspective

amazing balance blur boulder
Photo by Nandhu Kumar on Pexels.com

So I had an absolutely brutal install on monday night.  I install computer systems in supermarkets which generally we have to do after hours as to not interrupt the business.  Needless to say I didn’t arrive home until dawn was just creeping up on the world (ok, just New Jersey) around 5am… have you ever worked through the night ?  A strange experience to try and fight off tired but not OD on coffee.  But enough about my job (it is decidedly boring to talk about, I much imagine I am like a butterfly in a blank box).  So working like that screws you all up (hey, we all have our routines) so my phone started to rumble around 4pm and my blood responded by starting to boil (I was literally exhausted and not wanting to deal with work).. so of course my mind starts in like a sneaky suggestion “screw this job, I should tell my boss off, I should quit”… and then, a moment, of zen I suppose, I said to myself “self, stop!”.   I walked outside (lovely day) and thought “dead people would kill to have your life”… and that is right.  So I sat down on my porch, took a deep breath, and wrote this…


peeking” 6.26.18

little rays of sunlight

sneaking past the trees

illuminates corridors

in the gaps between the leaves

 

late afternoon

the light summer breeze

carries refreshment

a caress

just like yours

but not quite the same

little rays of sunlight

diffused by the setting day


does this poem succeed ? I wonder.  I was sitting there and there was like this lens flare in-between the leaves across the street.  I could feel the warmth of the sun and just relax…. and realize I don’t have it so bad.  I think perspective is important.  Should that be taught in schools ?  Instead of just 12 times 13 ?  Should we teach kids skills to cope with life not just readin’, writin’, and ‘rithmatic ?  Just something I was kicking around the ole tin can that is my head.  I don’t know if it is because I am older now and more thoughtful or am I just a slow learner when it comes to the philosophical trough.

music?  sure, I always think about it… I play guitar (not as well as a I could after all these years)… so I gravitate to guitar playing…  so here is some slick playing in a swing setting Eric Gales – Double Dippin

So Fate and I…

So Fate and I…

“I insist”
so, I sat down for a cup of coffee with Fate
actually, I am sitting by myself because she is late
(so typical of her)

been a long time since we caught up
so long I can’t even remember how we first met
I really shouldn’t be surprised
I’ve known her for basically my entire life
I really don’t think she does it to be rude
I know she has a lot to do and lots of other people to see
I remember how she would tell me about work
and she felt like she had been there “forever”
how every time she got through a pile of work
there would magically appear another
so, I get it
but I must admit (between me and you) it is still a touch annoying

I guess I just have great anticipation
she always has something interesting to say
and the stories…
man! the stories, she has the best stories
I always tell her she should write a book
but of course she would say
“you know my stories do not work that way,
I have to tell them in person, person to person”
so then I suggest she should do some stand up comedy
(she is very funny you know, a bit dry but very clever once you get used to her twists and turns)
so she would reply
“ugh, knowing me, and you know me, I would have to come up with a new act every night, and that is just exhausting”
of course I agree on reflection
but you always want your friends to ride their talent to full potential
I know she does great at her job,
so I really shouldn’t worry,
human nature I guess
is that her car?
no, I think she has a newer model

(maple latte please)

oh, here she comes
(finally…)
I wave
oh no
she has brought a guest…

death!


nature brook creek stream
Photo by Jaymantri on Pexels.com

My notes are usually up front but I wanted to flip the script…. because, why not?  I wrote this while digging in the middle of a brook for fossils today…  must have been a strange (amusing) view, I am up to my boots in muck and the idea hits, so I had to scramble to the bank in thick schwup (sound) steps through muddy sand, dry my hands, pull my journal out of the plastic bag, and scramble these words, the whole time cursing the dumb pen I packed (because damn it sucks but I can’t bring my Mont Blanc or Cross into the woods).  The idea of treating abstract ideas as people is of course not new but I don’t recall if I have done this before.  My personal favorite at this is Neil Gaiman, to say he is a master story teller is under selling.  Check out this video with him and Stephen Fry, I found it utterly entertaining.  So, back to my post.  Fate? Pre-destination ?  What do you think of fate?  I vacillate.. we think we know so much, but in a universe defined by billions of years how can our intellect really grasp how this all works given our blink of an existence?  We all want to believe we have free will.. but how can we actually prove that … … … ?

Friday Night Follies…

Friday Night Follies…

hot iron steel glow
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I am a wordsmith, truly my trade, a pen is my hammer, paper is my forge, I love to play with language in any form, so another week has passed and as is my habit with sharing my refrains, time for some lighter things, I am feeling a strain of Twain, I say that not to boast but with deference and irreverence to old man Clemens, so enjoy, these are just for pun, go out into the world and blow her a kiss, she deserves it…


I call this series animal crackers… and as usual I wrote these all at the same time, enjoy my cornball goofball sideswipes (hopefully, I don’t know, you tell me)


rats have long tales
but do not write books


the possum was the life of the party
until he passed out


fish are quite mischievous
they always skinny dip


song birds fill the air with music
but don’t take them to a Karaoke bar


worms, like children
sometimes eat dirt


amphibious scenery
newt beach


triceratops did not spin


killer whales
only have black tie affairs
although penguins are invited
pandas, skunks and zebras
all feel slighted


snakes? complainers
constant belly aches
and scrapes


a kangaroo’s preferred drink?
served on the rocks
hop scotch


a dog stops and stares
dramatic paws
the same dog joined the navy
and became a sub woofer


a lion’s residence ?
main street


snails love westerns
“happy trails”


an elephant’s car
has two trunks


the octopus
has eight cats


the starfish
is surprisingly dim


bats tend to hang out
to all hours
but they make great air traffic controllers


Musical selection ?  Let’s go amusing… to assimilate the mood, a little strange funk to accommodate the junk I thunk above…  Mr. Bungle “Squeeze Me Macaroni”… a band fronted by Michael Patton (Faith No More, a damn interesting guy) mixing funk, metal.. and well just about everything.  oh, and please tell me you get why I linked bats to air traffic control.. hello out there? is anybody out there? (pink floyd) damn, sometimes I feel like the Dennis Miller of blogs with my references…

Just short…

Just short…

silver and gold coins
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

sometimes I won’t have something clever to say, it happens.

sometimes I just want to post some stuff, it happens (below)


 

 

5.20.18

driving around my hometown

in all the corners

shadows and streets

memories

creep and speak

I no longer listen

I block them out

my own eminent domain


5.22.18

fishing hole

fishes home

fishing pole

I cast my line

time and time

a nibble perhaps a bite

to reel in my catch

a simple delight

childhood


5.27.18

rain drops

lives lost

lights turned out

endless clock


5.31.18

if there is wind

let it fill my sails

transport me to foreign shores

to unknown lands

where I might

begin again


music? OK, I can get back into that. King’s X “Thinking and Wondering (what I’m gonna do)” (live, acoustic), so yeah, King’s X is a band I love and will post about them until the world puts me 6 feet under.  King’s X is a gay black front man from Illinois, a slick guitar player from Mississippi (southern drawl), and a drummer from New Jersey (who is an interesting writer).. and they can all sing.. so yeah, they were diversity before diversity was cool… because it wasn’t a thing, they just “were”.. like we all should be.

Live poetry jam #2

Live poetry jam #2

I must be in a mood today… the only way I could have posted this faster is with my brain… I must admit this experiment is intriguing.

edit 6/21 12:51am… just cleaning this up for looks, that is my actual scribble there, I was in a supermarket working on a self checkout (I’m a NCR certified tech, you know, to pay the bills)… I think people must have found me weird scribbling away on paper and then furiously trying to learn the wordpress app in the maelstrom of a busy market.


6.20.18

horse and carriage

traveling about this map of roads

might I pick up a companion

how will I know?

might we ride awhile

and let the story tell

hearts and clubs

as they fell

from hands

the cards

horses always forward

carriage half full

(Live from Jackson Heights, Queens NY)

Drive by…

Drive by…

person holding fountain pen
Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

Live poetry, i would say the ink is still drying but i use a modern pen not a cool antique… which reminds me i might quite like one of those… posting from my car and phone for the first time…

edit 6/21 1:02am… just cleaning this up for aesthetics, I also want to note that I think it is important to capture moments and try to convey them. Robins are ultra common here.. but not so in other places, I think we get familiar and forget things like that.  Robins are very much land dwellers and territorial little maniacs (with bright blue eggs).. anyway, their behavior is so distinct, look around, pay attention, tell me about your reality.


6.20.18

I was talking to a robin just now

walking to my car

robin hopping

I tried to explain

we are going the same way

the robin

did not listen

and finally

had to fly away