As is my habit (not the nun uniform), I like to post some simpler thoughts on the weekend, just some snippets, notes, scraps of thoughts (little tidbits and crumbs from my journals over the months), so…
“shine” 5/30/18
as the sun shines, I know your smile
your eyes, I am lost at sea
sinking into your midst
into bliss
washed up on the shore
the sun warms, once more
grains of sand
I succumb
into the dream
of your love.
6.8.18
empty park bench
lonely shadow
empty park
sorrow
not a squirrel nor a bird
just the wind
shuffling through the trees
alone with my thoughts
carry my words of love to her
please…
“time blinks” 7.10.2018
my precious time
is gone
spent
and to be honest
I do not know
where it has gone
or where it went
“morning joe” 7.10.2018
singular
expression
caffeine
injection
to percolate
a sleepy soul
I will go out of the box for a minute (as I am wont to do…) with a movie recomendation… real old school goofy 80’s comedy that I think is vastly overlooked (the where’s the beef lady is in it !!!! cmon now! – almost as cool as the parts is parts commercial)…
stick with it, it is funny… cheesy? 80s?? yeah… all that… but trust me and thanks for reading if you are reading this. all comments/thoughts/vile epithets are appreciated.
I wonder what will become of my dear old friend patience (I really should thank her for some great advice over the years), I do worry about her these days though, she is a tough old girl but… surely she is not quite dead (yet) but are her days stained with scarlet numbers (the type that are counting down)?
Let me step back for a moment, and set the table (so to speak, no forks involved, maybe a napkin), I often (or sometimes) think this is an absolutely amazing age to be aging in, when I think back (using snapshots from my view-master) at the little spark that is this (my) life, simply in my lifetime we have gone from rotary phones, to huge cell phones, to flip phones to well… no need to remember phone numbers at all (or even type them! and who can keep track of all the area codes), the same crazy train goes for information, what will happen to the poor Alex Trebek’s of the world in a world that trivia is merely a swipe and a command? I’ll take obsolescence for $2,000 Alex…. daily double ! sweet! (but I forgot to answer in the form of a question, dammit, I always liked Pat Sajack better anyway…) The sheer instant nature of information is astounding. You want a pizza or a piece de resistance – we have an app for that, instant gratification of the stomach and the hungry mind. We carry the world in our pockets, well, until it crashes or runs out of batteries and we frantically scramble about like someone needs CPR when just a USB port will do, the panic induced by premature battery termination is palpable when you are present in the presence of same, the abject sadness on the faces of the inflicted as they must endure the utter hardship of disconnecting from the social universe seemingly like the loss of a limb (for a moment in the blink of life)…
and here is where patience may come in. in a cracked screen, in a waterlogged phone (well, they get around that too these days), in that time your OS decides to not be a friend, in a time when a friend you never met but exchanged 10000 messages with decides you are not a friend, in the time your signal is not quite 2 bars and those photos absolutely have to get through (I mean they are so damn cool)…
Take a deep breath… (try it now), please remember my poor beleaguered friend patience, she has so few followers these days, but she has been around, she will make a come back, she is a classic… after all.
I am going to go obvious musical drop on you all (well, at least for me, child of the 80s)…
notes… not sure how the school buses function where you are, here it seems to be pretty much the same since I was a wee lad, the ritual of parents escorting you to the corner to board onto the bus for the day, seems like forever a go, the memories came charging back so vividly when I was stuck behind a bus this morning (mesmerized by the rhythm of the lights). something that was so routine it was the routine, all we knew, gone after being there for so long, like everything else we get used to, life marches on.
Musical choice? I am in the need of some classical, so time to pull out an old fave…
the poem of course, is historically one of the greatest in history… all poets aspire to write such wall crumbling words, we need to internalize same and live our lives this way. Do I do it ? No.. I aspire to it. These are wonderful words and an amazing example of why word art matters. We must remember that art does matter but also the sentiment of truth anchors the best of art. The truth being that we have this little slice of time to be relevant, to be actually US, to be ourselves, we will blink and be gone… we only have this little time, instead of living many of us are wrapped up in nothing (myself included).. how do we escape this pattern and LIVE as free people, free from perception, allegation, the chains of oppression of society and the expectations of same. If you are expecting answers, I am sorry, I am seeking them as well.
Kind of totally off the wall metal band from back… well, back… some industrial elements, lots of cool time changes, totally offbeat, like me.. so, I dig it… sometimes I almost forget all the weirdness I have absorbed over theses years, and other times it oozes out of me like, well, I can’t think of a good metaphor right now, get back to me later.
Thoughts, comments and follows are as always… appreciated.
(putting on my sports blog hat….) How soon we forget. I am not saying people can not find forgiveness (that is a good thing) but the absolute fawning over Tiger Woods finally coming all the way back is a bit much for me. Does anyone remember what an A-1 scumbag this guy was ? The total fake clean guy image bought and sold by almost everyone… and it was all BS. It wasn’t like he was having some side piece with some little hot thing.. it was porn stars (who I don’t begrudge actually) and a ton of women across the spectrum. Look, I could care less where Tiger cares to stick his 9 iron (I am giving him the benefit of the doubt there), but he has kids.. and marriage, that was the line imo. The guy had it all and blew it for what? Get a divorce man! I don’t think he should be shunned or tarred/feathered (how cool would that be if we still did that, tangent) but … some hero to be exalted because he came back into a privileged (money) game ? It’s not like he was hurting for dough or dealing with cancer (or anything like a real life that 99.99% of the world’s population deals with)… I guess I am saying…just be honest… That’s all…
My porch series, tonight’s entry (and after that a bunch I forgot to post here, I think I posted them on Facebook, my bad… but just click on the porch series link to see them in order if you would like):
9/23/18 (porch series)
I thought it might be a clear night
but it is not
there are no stars
just a muddled shade of black mixed gray
the only light, artificial
from the light of my porch, behind me
usually under siege with moths
but not tonight, the fort is oddly quiet
the subtle chill is no longer on the breeze
as there is none this eve
the subtle chill has settled, into being, no need for a vehicle
time pushes the notch hand towards harvest
all the year’s resources spent
on a last bounty of the fall, before comes
as close as the world comes to death
the time as life bears down to hold
hold on, to dear life
wait out this coming cold reign.
and some will emerge, into the March
and others, will be lost, buried forever by the calming frost
swept under the sea of seasons
written into the ever revolving story,
maybe I should move back to a place
where the seasons are more
hot and blazing, less humid or raining
would I miss these reminders
these stage backdrops changing
the season’s play, performing, before me
brings both terror and inspiration
just cause to outlast the procession,
knowing one day the curtains will close (not just for intermission)
for all those, those who pay attention, or merely attendants
and, for me,
in which of these would I prefer to end?
as if I have some choice
but – if given a choice?
a blanket of snow, or the warm hand of august sun?
the miraculous burst of bloom or the flash of fire across autumn trees before the fall,
might I be a greedy soul
I wish for – all of these.
7.31.2018 (porch series)
a july breeze, warm and inviting
darkly clouds wavering, breaking – heading north
framed in against the tones of the setting sun
reflecting onto their cousins
illusion drawn on a cloud pallet
as the minutes draw the light, dimmer
I try to perceive the breeze, as an image
as it casually weaves through the leaves
all the life, in this little window frame
this tiny capture of my eyes
this valley of my perception
all struggles to survive
the trees, the flowers,
the mosquitoes having at my legs
I understand
but our minds, our mind’s reason
we know, like seasons – there is an end
to what end – ?
I do not know
I inhale the breeze
I absorb the gasp of the sun
to inform me
to give me answers, for I have none.
7.24.2018 (porch series)
the world is spinning, in complete control
clouds moving, sliding on, the lake the sky
while others seem still
but yet we are perpetual motion, unaware spinning
ever held, down, by gravity
this, our normality.
if I were to describe this to a stranger,
not of this place
they might think me mad, or just perhaps
of great imagination
a story teller for the ages
perhaps,
but these are our facts, we accept
we are born bound, by this, gravity
this force
feet firmly, on this ground
for so few of us, will ever know space
or anything that lies beyond.
6.3.18 (this was really the first one I wrote.. I think…)
sitting on my porch alone
neighbors all around
bustling in and out
of noisy cars and busy homes
sitting on my porch alone
listening to birds they sing
in foreign languages
foreign tongues, to me
a rabbit pays me no mind
a robin retreats
the wind bends and sweeps
sliding waves of leaves, calm
I want to leave, and go back
correct the mistakes, of my past
I sit on my porch alone
there are people inside
I surely know
all around
out here,
all alone
Did you really!? get this far ? If so you have my sincere thanks. I would ask you to follow me if you are so inclined and kind. Comments are always appreciated and critique is coveted above all, insults are cool too, any input is great, I am just running this thing off the cuff, a nut and his laptop… set loose on the world.
Music? well… I play guitar (not great) but I seek out those who do, and this cat? whoboy… he is just fire on the ocean imo…
Should be a bumper sticker on my car… I have a hard time believing how fast the weather has turned here, fall is in full flush, there are pockets of old humidity still trying to live it up like 20 year olds, but for sure the cooler breeze, the hint of winter is surely taking charge, and this too will be fleeting, soon we will have all that snow and sleeting (yech), all the things that make driving to work such a … ahem.. “pleasure”… but gladly I have a USB drive in the car and lots of tunes to tune out the world (hopefully). There is definite mental preparation/effort to stay grounded and happy when it takes a hour and a half to go 26 miles every morning, which makes me understand religious symbols that people wear (reminders in form)… I used to scoff at such things (I was one of those snarky atheists that thought religious people were too stupid for the room, how could they believe in the little man in the sky ruling over their lives?) I have since become more understanding, I certainly do not believe in the traditional form of god but also realize that I am just some average (ok, above average, wink) guy from the great state of New Jersey.. so what the hell do I know? God could be Jesus, God could be a cow in Wisconsin named Phil or God could be a piece of our DNA… who’s to say or judge ? I don’t have the answers so I can not put myself above anyone just because I do not see what they believe. Not sure why I swerved into that tangent, I tend to go where my mind goes, the muse steers and I try to hold on for this… dear life… with that said… here is some simpler ideas I wrote, like I have said before, they ain’t all masterpieces… more pieces of time, or captures of a thought… and that s how my art works, I try to be immediate and visceral – do I fail? yep. but hopefully something connects with you, the reader, and I thank you if you read any of this, it is a privilege to have a platform to share my little sense of identity for others to gawk at.
“love, unspoken” 4/29/18
my greatest sin, was to not speak the words
that spoke with, all I ever did
or so I thought.
forgive me, for I was wrong
forgive. this curse upon my soul
agony – the inescapable black hole gravity of
my love, for you
5/14/18
all that I see, will it cease to be
when I cease
to be
why god, this planet
this planet among all the cosmos
what most will I miss
the kiss of the one I love
a song
a face
the warmth of the sun
I wonder
6.2.18
I write this
in tribute to you
for what you gifted
to which I ruined
my eternal love
my eternal flame -dims
as we travel through the same
my eternal loss
lost.
but I remain, without, you
“ingredient” 6.27.2018
I am the spice, into
the recipe of life
mixed with yours
the culinary delight
of your soul.
music? how could I go this long without pushing the hartnoll brothers !
this album was… so transcendent… they were pioneers who do not get nearly the credit they should, electronic, drum n bass beats, amazing vocals (when they brought people in like this one)… if this song doesn’t make you groove, well… get out of my house because it will be hard to be on the same plain and explain to you how awesome this is…
Just trying something different, the origin was a few words and trying to be simple, and also honoring what I heard in my head (beat wise). so in my head I thought:
but I was also envisioning this happening as I drive (as most of us in the northeast USA do this time of year, especially november)… so I was not sure how to post it, I wrote it out originally as:
deer / cross / road / swerve
and I guess that works but it wasn’t totally sufficient to me, I can not draw to save my life, and my handwriting I refer to as “encrypted” because only I can read it, the lines seemed … to be missing something, so I wanted to amp it up with multimedia, ideally I wanted real paint brush strokes in between… that would work, but this is the best I could do with what I have in front of me. Just me trying something a little bit off my usual path, it just hit me there to go this way, as I say the muse is the muse and I go that way.
Revision 2am… I am looking at it now still not satisfied… I want it to read like:
Shades of My Garden 