I don’t know if this is a thing, and frankly I don’t care to google it… I call this observational poetry, meaning, I have a natural disposition to composition so… I might just want to describe a scene, is that not what some painter’s do with their brush? a landscape ? so here it goes…
12.17.2018 “sitting in a parking lot across from a building at night”
a rectangle of squares
fifteen by three tall
the light is on in a corner
I wonder who is there
is it theirs
some trees are black lines against the night
others bathed in false upright light
branches bright with no leaves to hide them
hover above patterns parallel parking lines
I can see the lobby
lights half on
all seems still
from the outside.
I back out of my spot
and move on
notes… been busy with life, when you work 6 days a week, every week art can be stifled, and also it is winter, and I am a bear in creative hibernation (actually I have a ton to get to but I can’t seem to get to it). I admit I have fear about running out of ideas, but I am actually hindered by not giving my ideas the time to germinate sometimes, usually I am on the spot and so damn immediate, but inspiration comes and goes, or perhaps my drive goes through throes, there is so much out there to inspire, even in this little space I occupy, here (and I try to remember that).
music – temple of the dog – hunger strike
probably the best culmination of the “seattle” sound… I never loved Pearl Jam nor Soundgarden, but there was some real talent in that whole pool (Alice in Chains as well)… but this song… resonates, at least to me, and that is enough of an admission.
Thanks for all comments, follows, and corn bread recipes (although I would really like some deep cajun recipes).