Imagining you are a force of nature…

Imagining you are a force of nature…

sky clouds wind windmill
Photo by Tookapic on


might I be the breeze

flowing ever flowing

nothing shall impede

always a path around

a crack, a corner, a curve

I can move the clouds above

or the dunes above the ground

molding the forms with my hands drawn

back – and – forth

roaming the plains and forests

and deserts now,

cross the oceans all seven skies

over ice, directing fog

I fly, slide, glide

the perfect kite

I create my own lift, my own flight

and might I rest for awhile

and settle dust

long slumber is not in my nature

as I must, I must move on

eventual perpetual motion

is the only song

these wispy ears have ever rung.


might I be free

might I like the wind

might I become the breeze

might I be free

notes… an old poetic trope indeed to become a thing of nature or imagine a different form from this, but does that make it droll ? Hell if I know… I just work here.

Music for this occasion (thanks for asking by the way), totally trippy stuff I doubt you have ever heard…

Lush – Sweetness and Light

totally ethereal, spacey, airy… reminds me of Liv from Norway and my long lost friend Jodi whom I lost touch with before this internet age, those were the days, those were special days.

The cycle of life…

The cycle of life…

light sunset people water
Photo by Negative Space on

So apparent in the turn of seasons, I lived in south Florida for some time and the seasons definitely don’t have the same flair, much like skin things just get olden and golden (like worn leather) over time down there, palm trees with xmas lights are surely a strange site, I guess being born in the North US I just got used to the passing of seasons, seeing the great burst of spring, the roiling of summer with the lure of the shore, and the eventual fall into winter (barest of all).  So, I totally forgot I wrote this little poem, again, sometimes you just write something and like it, maybe not my best thing, but it is surely a piece of me laid out in my little notebook in my god awful handwriting…

born again” 8.28.2018

is there a cleansing pool

in which I may drown and emerge

upon the other side

washed of you


is there a prancing fool

who believes such things

staring back in the mirror

he surely is


no chains, no binds, no bonds,

nothing to break, but might I wake

with a clear conscience of mind

one time –

to see a new day, with these weary eyes


as light bends on the back of morning land

reaching out with new warmth

to begin again –


Music to contemplate life to ?  Yeah, I got that covered… some lovely ambient musings.. check out “sutra spin” also, one of my all time favorite ambient albums (it is more active ambient if ya get my groove)

How it happens (tragedy).

How it happens (tragedy).

brown cathedral
Photo by Toa Heftiba Şinca on


the sight that blinds

a seed, a thought, an insidious demon

grows with just a husk of perceived truths

fed the right diet, the right light

grows as sure as the instructions on the packet

growth is a toll,

requires space and resources in multiplying folds

this is not prophecy, this is known outcomes –

for one human to kill another

because one is perceived as less

worth less than your very own,

the demon has grown, to know

and whisper into very thought,

all starts with a seed and the room to grow

notes… this is what I wrote thinking about Pittsburgh, I was on my porch but I don’t think it fits that series or my art.

Thoughts from the porch (continued series)

Thoughts from the porch (continued series)

autumn autumn colours autumn leaves beautiful
Photo by Pixabay on

From the porch (series)


remnants of the rain remain

seeping out from welcome mats

on the underside of fallen leaves

huddled in patches of patchwork

for what little warmth they might gather

all the colors littered

like a parade route after

after the crowd is gone,

all revelers, peddlers nearing dawn,

one last hurrah before last embrace

a dance, a chance, to perceive the delay

to spin frantic all without a know

well all the while, the signs all point

all sight lost in whirling dervish delights, for now

until we awake into the next morn

branches sparse, the snare of cold breath

a frost

we retreat to our dens and hearths

and wait.

notes… we just had a Nor’easter here so it is almost the last cruel insult to the leaves… they are clinging for dear life knowing they will all be stripped bare dead and here comes this horizontal rain fall and ripping wind to take away their spark, the aftermath is all these leaves, some even green, strewn about like a total mess, so I was commenting on all that and larger themes of the season.

not sure why I am going this way…

Faith No More – Epic

Michael Patton… a fascinating dude…

Hey !  thoughts, comments, arguments, follows, ice cream, and angry harangues are always appreciated !!

The weekend I like to post easier items.

The weekend I like to post easier items.


sky sunny clouds cloudy
Photo by Skitterphoto on

Granted I am rocked by the awful situation that happened in Pittsburgh today but the weekends (well, at least sundays) are a refuge, so I like to post some simpler things, elemental things, basic things. I can be all esoteric but… life is about larger themes, larger than your self, we all think we are living in the most important time ever, that’s just silly, we had a civil war here in America… hell, we had world wars that none of us were part of, get over yourself, gain some perspective, don’t lose passion but realize we all fail,  everything is so important because we are alive in the now, it is all we know.. but the world will continue to spin, America will continue to lead, we all blink, so blink, take a deep breath, the world is not ending due to anything, politics ?  the world continues on. For now I am going to post some theme poems, the theme ? simplicity, obviousness, the things that bind us… remember we are all here together right now, think about that in the context of the universe whole, the confluence of events that make my words being read by you … astounding…

radiant” 7.23.18

I am plutonium, radiation

contaminating infiltrating

in deadly silence

injecting into every scene

leaking from every seam

an unseen torrent

molecular assassin

death transparent.

over here” 7.23.2018

signal fire

signal flare

I will do anything

to get your attention

once more

break my bones” 8.6.2018



and I thought

sticks and stones

but I was wrong

in my bone

the saying is only true

when the words are false

circular” 8/8/2018

two circles



never one

infinity loop

but a circle has no beginning

nor an end

a lap of loops

but you have gone nowhere

you are at

where you began


there is thunder outside

but here I am

inside my home

like a stone


I feel safe


until – found.


you are the air I breath

the spark of life I need

shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

a season too fleeting

my love for you

beyond all reason

music > get your heavy on, this is from an Anime (Shingeki no Bahamut) I have been watching lately but I was surprised with the theme music (it rules), I could run a whole anime blog or Japanese music blog… but damn I don’t have the time with all the shit exploding in my head.


thoughts and comments are always welcome, negative or not !

The garbage we see…

The garbage we see…

grey beverage bottle
Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on

We see garbage, and refuse every day, especially in urban centers, what do we do ?  I pick up what I can, I carry bags to pick up litter, whenever I hike I bring a bag and collect anything that should not be there, am I some hero ? hell no.  but a little effort goes a long way, see some flotsam ? take some action. I am not some radical environmentalist, just do we need to see garbage flying about the streets ?  Pick it up, do the simple things, it is just like smiling, do the little things. So… I was driving home tonight from a customer sight (and damn I have an email to shoot out, thanks for reminding me) and saw in the intersection of Magnolia and Oak Tree Road some dancing things due to the wind, it turned out to be garbage… and it inspired this…

the fault of the wind 10.27.2018

there was no parade, today
human debris
plastic bags, paper, not leaves
’tis the fault of the wind
pages dancing swirling on corner ends
across my path, to fast to catch
blown on by
into the trees and the oceans
’tis the fault of the wind

More poems from the beach (and an anecdote)…

More poems from the beach (and an anecdote)…

sea beach sand sun
Photo by Tookapic on

These were written @ Higbee beach in Cape May NJ known for “Cape May Diamonds“, also if you walk far enough south you hit Sunset Beach with the USS Atlantus (a concrete hull ship that sank just offshore), a little ditty about Higbee, I went there to find some new/less used beaches on vacation (when I am on the beach I am interested in walking the tide and looking at nature not sunbathing), so I walked all the way down the beach south (about 1.2 miles) from where Higbee meets David Douglass park (Cape May / Lewes ferry), so, in my infinite wisdom I decided to take the nature trail back instead of the beach… oh boy, first, I was wearing my crocs, and they ain’t walking shoes, secondly I left my sun screen and other stuff out of my pack because this is october and well… I didn’t expect 80 degrees and blazing direct burning sun ! so… I was hella wrong, it was like I was moses trekking through the wilderness, all sand (and if you have tried to hike in sand you know how much fun that is! – not!), sand and scrub brush… and a winding trail more confusing than choose your own adventure books, it was torture, I still have the remnants of blisters on my feet (2 weeks later), winding paths not in the scrub forest, all out in the open in the valleys of dunes just off the beach which I thought I was near the surf (but every time I endeavored to find it I couldn’t), and of course there was no other people on this trail, thankfully I have a good deal of hiking experience from my youth @ camp Sequoia in the Catskills, so after 3 hours of hiking (and cursing) I finally made it back to civilization (the parking lot), man, it sucked…. I am a hard headed person but this wore me down certainly, so maybe that adds to the ingredients of my poetry ? maybe… so here it is…

Upon Higbee Beach, Cape May NJ 10.8.2018

I walk the beach whole

I learn the shore lines

the neighborhoods of waves

the bindings of tides

between dunes and break,

I stride casually

soft wet sand sinking slightly under foot

beach sandals in one hand by straps

walking over footprints fading

as if I’m never there,

passing sun bathers and gazers

wondering what sort of tide brought them in

and from what inland shores

accents and manners float

in and out with a subtle roar

ghost crabs, run to their burrows

horseshoes right themselves

deft barb on tail

turning like clocks in the coming surf

turning to noon out to sea

these ancient ambassadors

far older than these

Upon Higbee Beach (pt 2), Cape May NJ 10.8.2018

the sand, the sound

the tide, the wind

broken footsteps trail off

the sun travels deliberately across the sky

the beach is low, for now, exposed

tide peels and shipwrecks, and their crews be told

left up upon the beach, stranded until tidal moon

or worse yet

found by the mouth of a hunting gull,

time seems to stand still, even within all this motion

but if ever there was a picture frame

to explain the seduction of passing time

this is that masterpiece

a picasso, a davinci, a michealangelo’s chapel

so easily this recognized among all other work

for this, strokes struck by nature herself

my own steps break off into the distance now

as if a part of this whole existence

at least for a little while

at least, for this memory

as least, nor that moment passed, just now

From the porch (continuing series)

From the porch (continuing series)

america american flag architecture bridge
Photo by Lex Photography on

This is part of my “from the porch” series where I am writing from my, um, porch, just channeling whatever comes in on the antennae, so without further delay…


long gone are the soft summer nights

on this night full moon high

the august sun, is faded words on bristled pages now

the silence – – –

the silence and the still drowns out

still, desperate leaves cling

on the now loudly breeze, passing

once comfort now certain coming

for all fruits shall meet the earth

and ground, and fall, and rot

in the cold space, as the calendar turns

hope is easily dashed upon these shores

lashed by what was no more

the world retreats curls into a womb

to be born again anew (with hope)

so might a slumber rest

and unshined eyes forget

dreams to carry through this death

may a door emerge on waking breath

The infinite universe of the recipe of individuals…

The infinite universe of the recipe of individuals…

white and gray chevron print recipes book
Photo by Isaiah on

Think about it.  No, REALLY think about it.  Every person you run into (ouch) or meet is a complete happenstance of a confluence of a great everything, a mass of variables so vast as to ache even the most agile human mind – the time you are born, when, where, how, parents, grandparents, that great great great great aunt that crossed some river for a flower way back when, all of these possibilities became you… or someone, there will never be anything the same as you @ this exact moment, or the next, think about that the next time you get mad… can you possibly know everything that baked the cake you are mad at ?

so on that subject… I wrote this @ my desk today, it was something bouncing around my head for a few days now, mostly I need to be (or am) immediate or I lose the lines, this one flowed out without doubt at my lovely inspiring cubicle…

thoughts and comments (on anything) are appreciated as are million dollar donations as alas.. I did not win the powerball drawing the other night (I was so damn sure too…), anyhoo… this blog is my thoughts (all this verbose blathering) and poetry, so onto that part of the exercise…

the bridge 10.24.2018

there is a man crossing

the bridge, across the road

I am driving on

I do not know

his destination

merely the other side

I assume,

a moving snapshot, a video clip

of memory now

so much in a time stamp

a story untold

or what I may imagine

a life, an entire life

there in a moving picture

an entire existence

passed on by

on a bridge

across the road

I was driving by.

Music ?  sure, being I am a creature of the habit note…

Eric Gales – Don’t Fear the Reaper (B.O.C. cover)

Eric was lauded as a kid as being a guitar prodigy but got sort of forgotten for some years.  I first got into him in 1993… and he is making a real name for himself now (rightfully so).  He is right handed but plays upside down left handed (that is just the way he learned so it is natural to him).   Great player, check him out if you get the chance.

Poems from the beach…

Poems from the beach…

green grass beside sea
Photo by Lisa Fotios on

These were written in Cape May NJ @ David Douglas Park.  I am trying to transport my mind back to that time… it seems so distant now as all vacations/downtime does.

Upon David Douglas Park, Cape May NJ 10.9.2018

the clouds are collapsing, upon the last rays

as we spin away from the sun, passing below the horizon

the clock now turns to dawn

as we approach the time light’s passing

the flocks, have gone, to find their beds

to where? so many, just moments ago

filling the sky and shore with wings

like shadow cut outs

cast about by a child’s whim

all lays calmer without the light

night has a way of subduing sight

Upon David Douglas Park, Cape May NJ (day 2, after the remnants of Hurricane Michael came through) 10.12.2018

walking the beach alone

but there are many residents

and the constant roar

I talk to the birds

I ask them questions

I know they can not answer

I walk this beach alone

seeking fulfillment, enlightenment

from that was before

and will be after

I walk this beach alone.

This is what the beach was like the morning after the remnants of Hurricane Michael rolled through… it was pretty nuts!  The day before it looked like this !

Comments, thoughts and critique is always appreciated, thanks!