Once upon an elitist…

Once upon an elitist…

architecture buildings business city
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I must admit, without embarrassment, that I was once quite the elite snob, we here in the northeast US surely think we are better than “fly over country” or certainly more sophisticated than “the bible belt“… these days, I am not so arrogant to look down upon the other folks of this country (or world) and check my arrogance at the door (or with the cute coat check girl, hey a guy can hit out his league sometimes), but anyway, there is a definite palpable bias on the coasts, and definitely a bias against religious folks (especially christians), but for me it is simple… if I am so damn supremely better than “x” do I have the answers ?  (humble pie to the face insert here, or kick to the nads, whatever floats yer minnow).  So these days I sort of laugh and/or feel bad for what I used to be, and what I see all over the place here in the Tri-State area (in local parlance that is NY NJ CT, sorry PA), I guess my perspective has changed examining the long game, do I think I am better than some people ?  sure… got to be honest there, it is a walk, a destination to shed what got me here, clothing is comfort, being naked is well… naked.  I am trying to get there.  So anyway, my thoughts on elite behavior led to this little musing… (and I was in a serious dry spell, well, ok, not that serious but my writing has been so furious that a hiatus seems serious when it was probably just superfluous… so without further … further… (curtains pull back)

elite room with a view” 11.29.2018

from on high the ivory tower

declarations decreed on the sound of hours

descend on down invisible ladder

a yoke upon the nary ants scrambling around

their petty lives thrive for the direction

to be passed on down

by a higher same


so rather catapults and siege

there is a courteous bow to the elite

on clouds enshrined

in an ivory spire

self appointed lieges

bloated, drunk with power

notes… not much here in hiding me thinks, but I thank… you. for reading. comments and critique is always appreciated.  feel free to re-post as long as you give this host the total most credit… or else you will wake up with a third nipple… call it the mummy’s curse.

music…  a friend of mine recently went out to red rocks to see a perfect circle… (jealous!), here is one of my faves doing a song @ red rocks, he usually is a DJ only but this particular tour/album he did a live band thing (this is live audio folks….respect)…

Tycho – Division at Red Rocks (Official Audio)


$25 cents, mr do and charleston chew

$25 cents, mr do and charleston chew

white and brown house under tree
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I have not been writing much (I have tons of back log but sometimes they seem like old logs in the forest I have let much moss grow on, I might lichen it to neglect), the muse is cold and hiding somewhere inside my home, where? I do not know, I’ll find the little minx, after all she loves to influence me in not so mysterious ways, so I thought I would just share a random memory of my childhood, let it be said I never know where my blog will go, nor does it matter, do you question the river as it makes it’s way to the ocean ?

and now, the musing (sans the muse, I swear she is around here somewheres): I am not sure if it is a northeast america thing, a New Jersey (pronounced Joizee) thing, or a cultural happening in my circle of growing up thing (but we all seemed to be doing this thing),  this thing that I seem to be avoiding naming goes by the name of “sleep away camp”, firstly, we were conditioned prior to this experience with “day camp” (for me Hi Hi Hills in Watchung NJ , boy has it changed!), so the evil plan hatched by my parents to rid themselves of the children for the summer was afoot, I imagine, wait… I don’t want to imagine why they would want to send us away for a time, to knit ? or mow the lawn? yes… that’s it, nothing else biological entities would do, definitely not that, or any of that sort of thing, I am sure of that, that that was not the reason, surely I am a product of an asexual processes, well… I am adopted… so I am going to hold onto that regardless of the merit of actual logic, and the fact that I do not wish to see that movie, not even the outtakes, or even the deleted scenes, or behind the scenes, or hell… even the story board treatment is out of the question, now, where was I?  so, day camp was a proving ground, an experiment before the grand experiment, to be sent away to a never ending place of stimulation roughly two hours north of the homestead – for the never ending summer, that inevitably, ended, but it certainly seemed much longer back then, the camp of my family choice was Camp Sequoia which goes by a different name now, but is the same gulag, you see, for the most part I did not love my time among the other fellow travelers, I loved the nature aspect, heck, I took every hiking trip I could (there is nothing better than cowboy stew on a mountain I tell you – OK legit s’mores are a close second), or the time I woke with a porcupine on my sleeping bag on Tabletop (they have bad breath, and huge buck teeth, but love american cheese, no shit, hand fed the little bastard after he climbed up an inadequate for escape tree), but back to the point… um, yes, sleep away camp, a vacation for the parents, there was only one day they visited in what seemed like a forever clip (they did send contraband, which made me feel all sly), in fact it was just basically six weeks, funny how time really is different then and now, of course that is nonsense, my perception of said time is the difference, it almost seems like a different life, disconnected from this one, so, wait, I have to go back to the post origin… part of sleep away camp was “canteen”, our time for free for all, basically an hour in this one hut that had goodies and one arcade game… you waited all day for the prize like a dog giving paw, you walked up to the window with immense anticipation, as you could score a sugar bar (I mean what is candy if not that?) so for that moment I used to score, a charleston chew and then saunter over to the Mr Do cabinet (the only game in town as it were)… slip in my twenty five cents (um, a quarter) and piss off about 30 other kids because I was the real Mr Do deal, life is strange, the things you remember clear as day, I love that game, I do not so much love the cavities wrought by the charleston chews however…

Sometimes it is a feeling…

Sometimes it is a feeling…

woman with orange manicure
Photo by Oleg Magni on Pexels.com

“remember” 10.31.2018


I press two finger tips

up upon my lips

to recall the sensation

or an approximation, of your warmth

the static electric spark

of the interaction of moist skin

mine on yours,


across the heavens mass pulls, gravity

the weakest force, so I’ve learned

but nonetheless, grants me

instinct strains the moorings

morning clocks another day


miles stretch, thoughts confine

memories looked at linger

simmer inside with the guilt

reading history to replay

to overcome

to fill, to feel, the gap

that is – between.

observational, same day

observational, same day

selective focus photography of red leaves
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

I wrote these in the same day, different themes, different emotions, ah, screw it, here they are….

sitting, looking at a tree I planted, now fall” 11.10.2018

the slanted rays of the day reveal

as they pass through

radiant red of my japanese maple’s palms

also reveals

the fissures and cracks

the spectrum

of the collaboration

of this celebration

of death

photo of person holding alarm clock
Photo by Acharaporn Kamornboonyarush on Pexels.com

daylight savings” 11.10.2018

trying to find that clock

the one with the extra hour

to steal an hour back

the only time that will allow reclamation

anymore than just this spare hour

or the mind will know the trick

notes… my lovely japanese maple is a fraud actually, it is some hybrid, I found out quite by accident, the first winter after the planting we were hit with a vicious storm, to the point where it broke the young tree in half, where as there was once these deep purple leaves of a weeping bow short tree, after the break (I was glad it was not a death blow) an offshoot grew – taller, and with deep crimson fingers, that was many years ago, but it is a great juxtaposition against my native tall maples in my front yard these days, hard to tell when it is really fall until I see this maple wane in the weight of the coming winter, and it is in direct view when I sit on the steps of my porch, obscuring my view with so much rose colored leaf glasses, so that is what I was observing, as I have said, this is haiku to me (feel, not style).

on #2…  sort of folly, a bit of my Twain streak, but also a realization I had, those times we look at clocks and are fooled by those with the incorrect time (as “incorrect” as that can be – does time really care that we peg lines on it?).  We pine for that extra minute in the morning etc.  I wonder if this current stock of youngin’s is as dependent on clocks – sure they look at their phones every 4.29 seconds… but for the clock ?  and watches are mere decoration these days? I wonder what cartier would think… but anyway, I thought it would be fun to illuminate our silly dance with times and clocks… if it succeeds, maybe not. who am I but to share my thoughts, with you.

thanks as always, I am trying to stay in thanks as a state rather than a reaction, this is truly a great world even with all the problems.  to me, to contemplate all the factors that had to happen in the universe just to make this dumb post is just an amazing overwhelming thing… keeping that in perspective… that is another thing.

music… so relaxing ambient (older but relevant imo)

HumanMeshDance – Sunken Garden

I think Taylor Deupree is a genius, he was so far ahead of the game and always looking to change it.  I highly suggest you check out his art.

the simple tradition (weekend post)

the simple tradition (weekend post)

cat lying on cloth
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Surely this is a time to unwind, one of the big American holidays leading (and perhaps the actual door) to winter, christmas and what not around the corner (do I need to be PC and mention every single holiday? nah, not me.), since the weekend is the time to relax, curl up on the couch and watch some TV (like a parade no one really cares about but we watch anyway), I like to post some simply digested pieces (get it, turkey day humor), maybe even just one line thoughts, or orphans as it were… so without further delay (I know, you must be waiting with such baited breath)…

animal bright bunny chamomile
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com


robins and rabbits

do not seem to mind

each-other’s company

on this little patch of mine

lightning photo
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com


can you feel the sky breaking

cracking at the dawn

I can no longer hide my disgrace

within the passing storm

beautiful blue eyes close up dhyamis kleber
Photo by Dhyamis Kleber on Pexels.com


your eyes

are the only ones

I have ever

truly, looked into

heart love sand
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com


to know her

is a song,

stanzas upon my heart.

for eternity

I knew, right from the start.

these notes

they spare my soul

from the looming dark.


humanity, these days

souls on a billboard

on a road to nowhere

glacier snow mountains sunny
Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com on Pexels.com




fraternal twins;


sunlight bathes


light of day;


moonlight owns

the night

in the phases;


the rise on tides

waxes and wane and disappear

crimson high, chasing the dawn of genesis light


eternal dance

partners three

notes… just on the last one, by partners three I was referencing the earth, moon and sun which is what the universe was for those just a few or so hundred years ago, kind of a play on perspective and science (and poor Galileo) , I thought about referring to all celestial movement but since I was being local (in a solar system sense) I thought this was the way to go.  although most of these poems are dated 6 months back (their birth), I did alter them here and there today… maybe I am getting better at that ?  I don’t know, I can only post and hope it connects with you, the reader.  And in this time of thanks, well… thanks.  I am not one to fish for compliments, it may sound arrogant but I don’t care (if you know me in the ‘real’ world as especially my coworkers can attest), I do not do things for others behest, I do them to do them, to do the right thing, which is not always rewarding in the outward sense, but fulfillment should be an inner strength, something that feeds your soul at some level, not some exercise in how many likes I can generate, would that be nice?  I am a realist, and not a bullshit artist, so yeah, sure I look at the likes, but that is exactly the hook I have to avoid… to enjoy the process, it is almost like dangling a shiny thing in front of the real prize, the real prize being real praise and admiration without prostrating myself in front of strangers behind a keyboard (ahem, you, reading this)… in summation I give thanks to whatever is out there, to you, to anyone I connect with, we are here in a blink and it seems that time has gone so fast, maybe I can share my value with my posts and enlighten just a few folks, isn’t that better than most ?

music… when I am contemplative I tend to go ambient (or classical), today I bend ambient…

Tycho – Hours

Tycho rules, he has a pretty high profile and tours often, check out his art as well, I have several of his prints

About the wind…

About the wind…

clouds daylight field grass
Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on Pexels.com


the wind, in your many fabrics, in your many forms;


a storm wind,

bold proclamations before the gathering

a pitch of storms

the backdrop of flowing gray silks

you come roaring about

throwing down bolts of rain

but such fury, rarely lasts

certainly less than 40 days

and passed –

puddles of remembrance

evaporate from existence

into your fellows;


the cooling tempt of night summer breeze

circling and caressing beads of sweat

wrapped under ears, across the neck

like a gentle kiss from phantom lips

a comfort whispered

in the season of the sun

embarked upon a soothing voyage to calm;


the cold raspy one

down to the bone

the pitchfork of winter stone on stone

pierces through, the harbinger

to transform, to ice

thoughts of warmth, all are lies

you strip the breath away in ghost

stinging, burning skin

forced indoors

to escape your intent

(and await your relent)

to your fonder brothers I call

that I know are coming,

flowing onward.

notes… been busy with the whole family thing, so… talk among yourselves…

A quick thought/observation…

A quick thought/observation…

pathway surrounded by trees
Photo by Lina Kivaka on Pexels.com


the gathering of leaves, in piles
sculpted by the wind
the original, feng shui

I don’t write haiku, I don’t hate it (I do not like the restrictions), in actual fact I have read tons of haiku over the years, one of my favorite books was a collection of death poems (sort of a sub genre of haiku), but this poem above is my ‘feel’ of haiku, it should have ebb and flow, like a tide, and the tide carries a truth revealed, maybe it is just me, some random nut, but I think not, because I am that random nut, so how could I, perched in this house, perceive that from my perspective, I can only share my interaction and inner tinkering, a beginning to understanding. pass the gravy, let me overdose on turkey and pass out.

And without rebuke… thank you if you read any of this, I do appreciate it, comments are always appreciated, criticism is especially valuable – how can I see my own flaws without you as a mirror ?

Just some silliness (can’t we all use a little?)

Just some silliness (can’t we all use a little?)

blur color conceptual cube
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I can be hilarious, witty and completely eye rollingly cornball… this is one of the latter times, I’m off tomorrow for the holiday of course so I just threw this together as a matter of course, of course tomorrow I will be eating courses on my course to food coma nirvana, I love turkey, no, not the country, I love turkey in some unholy fashion, I could eat turkey every living day, is that a bad thing?  Have you ever met a turkey?  They are aggressive at times, they will get you, pac man is modeled after turkey life after all (gobble gobble – see, awful cornball humor oozes from me!).  Anyway, have a good day, and enjoy these lighter pieces where I am not balancing the universe on my syllables and the meaning of life on my parables…

I hate twitter
not enough space for my words

bourbon (I have a habit of posting using bourbon as a foil)

one two
buckle my shoe
three four
why am I on the floor ?

why do I aim at this thing?
the urinal cake
as if there is some prize at stake
competitive streak…
for heaven’s sake
(probably been here too long in this contemplative state)

bourbon served
two ice cubes
two talls down
social lube
so I decide to up my game
but I approach
and forget my name
epic fail
I sit down
and have another round

@ work we try to out cornball each other, and honestly I win most of the time… here is something I thought of this week…

why was the auctioneer so mad?
because everyone was all up in his bid-ness

another leftover (dig in, won’t ya?)…

another leftover (dig in, won’t ya?)…

close up of food in plate
Photo by Tranmautritam on Pexels.com

um, leftovers, I should really post all things at once but sometimes things get lost, I have my journals to be sure, but man my handwriting is pure… garbage  🙂  so this is one I forgot to post from my visit to the place in new jersey I love almost… the most, Cape May


Upon Cape May Wildlife Refuge, Cape May NJ 10.12.2018

I sit here, with my friend willow brush

your tufts so soft to the touch

sea lake pond hdr
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

designed to be stroked by the wind

bending as she sways to swing

how long have you waited

for just the right breeze

to release your young

and ease into deathly reprieve

to see where I actually wrote this (literally on a beach in a storm) check out this vid, I was in a tidal area (marsh) where the ocean meets um… the marsh… very unique ecosystem, unfortunately I had to clean up about 17 beer cans/bottles thrown into the brush… that pisses me off, I am not some rabid environmentalist (I am just a classic nature lover), and hell, if I was a kid living near there I would probably party on the beach too, but man alive, how hard is it to clean up after your damn self…


my thoughts, from the porch…

my thoughts, from the porch…

astrology astronomy black and white crater
Photo by Juhasz Imre on Pexels.com

11.18.18 “porch” series, click the link to see the gist

remnants of the first snow
still upon the ground
half moon surrounded by moonlit shroud
the land’s last hope of holding onto the sun’s kind warmth
departs- with a sigh
now we must submit holding on
wrap a blanket, hold you close
stoke a fire, to crackle and roast
embers rise up the flue
or dance and curl
as the embers bloom, and decay
falling apart as the night longs on
holding their energy for as far as long
the tv flickering six feet past. eyes close.

now will be the mornings of frozen lawns
frost to cover grass and glass of cars
but for now
curled up to sleep
awaiting, counting, sleeping dreaming
to survive the season, the silent schemes of the longer shadows
as one day this will no longer be a metaphor
as one day will come and close the door.