a moment…

a moment…

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Lake Wallenpaupack, last Saturday, the last day of my vacation, I like to go local and learn local… and it worked out this time… the Poconos are quite beautiful, and shame on me for not ever staying here…. I drove by this awesomeness dozens of times, take a minute, pull over, take a look…. that has been my guiding light the past year… for more info on the exact spot click the link below…. Personally I stayed at The Ledges Hotel, amazing (seriously insane beauty) view, not worth the price tag overall, but be sure to check out the Hawley Silk Mill… and I am writing up many of the places I visited over there on Yelp… the best restaurant was Cora’s.… very local, and dead when the people were flocking to the “hot spots” on the weekend… go to Cora’s, you’ll thank me…. I am sure there is plenty I missed but I will be back, I loved exploring the area !

Lake Wallenpaupak Map !

urban, local, suburban, poetry…

urban, local, suburban, poetry…

man standing on gray pathway
Photo by Jesus “CritiQ” Henriquez on Pexels.com

neighborhood
a strand of slang
to grasp the meaning
of the voices within
these raised walls
old root under foot
sidewalk cracks bends up
hand prints in cement
mark child years
within these blocks
stories grown and told
a library of the neighborhood soul
for language is the life lived on tongues
passed down deeds and stories sown
dusk to dawn
father to daughter
mother to son
all along
the community bond

notes… this is one of those that escapes me as to why I wrote it, just one of those things man, inspiration in a bottle in a tempest in a storm in the maelstrom of my own personal weather system… something like that…

music?  dirty blues man, dirty dirty blues, dishwater dirty blues that speak with grit and spit soul….

Left Lane Cruiser – Putain!

a prayer…

a prayer…

astronomy cosmic cosmos dark
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

a prayer to mother earth

I wish to sit down with mother earth
and exchange pleasant trees
so they may grow
and I may be remembered
within the vessel
by the entity
that has allowed this life
and very breath
the will to breathe back life
unto her lands

note: I can not say I believe in reincarnation, however my essence, or at least these molecules typing will certainly be part of the earth far longer than my death and birth, I take slight comfort in that, not ultimate comfort but at least I know that my atoms are indeed local, in this neighborhood and were probably embodied in countless bodies of every manner of life… past, present and going forward…

thoughts… from the porch…

thoughts… from the porch…

green leaf on black concrete surface
Photo by Izabella Bedő on Pexels.com

the balance has not quite yet shifted, but surely as the days flash on by, the ground is more littered, bathed in various shades of red and yellow, all over my car window, stuck there spread eagle by autumn rain, always the maple leaf, I suppose, being a creature of the northeast I am having a singular experience, for maple is mostly the way here, quilt patch blankets of wet leaves all around, the ground, the lawn, lining the street except in the spots with the constant pounding foot traffic of cars, all these leaves have come to an end, spent the spring and summer, gathering what sunlight and shade they can, or could, depending on where they were born and placed, all in an effort to save the root cause and see through another winter’s pause, moving on into detached certainty, so the next generation might have a start and the life of the host moves on, the buds of the next generation may never know unless nutrients flow past that newly formed ring and pay attention, that anniversary, the subtle reminder that can only be truly read when cut down a thread and laid out, counted, because everything is numbers, everything is time, always right in front of us, dead fast in front of us where we can never truly reach, like a reflection in a pool, we see everything exactly as is but we can not touch the image by any means, because in a moment that exactness is gone, all these leaves, upon closer inspection, different markings, colors, spots, holes from insects or time, slight variations in size, slight variations in tribe, all in all all fall down, all in all blanket the moist autumn ground, and I may take a moment to remember, them all…

(part of my porch collection, still rolling on…)

from the porch (vacation, lost.love.letters edition)…

from the porch (vacation, lost.love.letters edition)…

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Prolog: the photo above is literally the view behind the hotel here in the Poconos, I needed to unplug for a few days so here I am, at night they light up the falls with flood lights and all around the outside decks are torches, there is an outdoor bar/restaurant sort of under the hotel observation decks,  so this is where I was when I penned this tonight.

sitting here, somewhere in between, civilization and nature, a crossroads of seams, where worlds meet, unsure of my allegiances, for I feel I have drifted far, the constant motion and shower of waterfalls, lit up this night by artificial lights, pieces of conversations are more like a hum, nothing distinct, not as succinct or as calming as the waters constant falling, sitting here, alone, in the middle of everyone, other’s lives, unaware of each other’s stories, strife, or triumphs, or nothings, a gentleman is serenading the outside bar with acoustic renditions, gathering polite applause between songs, his voice seems more in harmony with the water than the human din dining and drinking to the sides of him, fueled torches flicker in the slight breeze, dancing to a completely different song unto themselves but in tune with the water, somehow, I consider this scene for a second, like a painting, a framework snapshot of heaven if for a moment touched the earth, but for me, there is quite the angel missing, by my own hand, my own doing, I am never sure if that fact makes the wound that much worse or open longer my forever, somehow this perfect scene, the serene, the seeming peace accord between the pulverizing mass of humanity and the glorious natural wonder of the world, I can not enjoy this the same, without you, without you to share this with, all the goodness and hope saps my strength, as my thoughts turn to you, only you, sometimes a shadow is impossible to shake, so I withdraw, to my room.

Post: check out my Youtube channel as I am uploading some cool videos of my travels this week… mostly waterfalls and such, I’m a sucker for nature you know…

And thanks for all the looks, likes and random off color comments !

a prayer for…

a prayer for…

artistic backlit beauty breathtaking
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“a prayer for exuberance
to stay and chat for a while
to not depart
as quick as come
I beg of you
to stay the setting sun
so I might awake
and look over
and be overwhelmed
with joyfulness
each breath to take
in from that unending source
to exhale out into the world
to be renewed in every moment
once and forever more”

notesrelated to my previous post, written at the same time but in a different vein… and also a bit of a different thought…

the travails of joy and exuberance…

the travails of joy and exuberance…

beach woman sunrise silhouette
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

before I got into my car this morning, for my lovely (read: awful) commute, I paused and thought how empty I feel at the moment, I shouldn’t of course, there is nothing wrong, I have breath, I am alive, things are better than average and much better than most, I wander to ponder on how to not feel such things, I begin to think of symbols that might renew hope in life, the opposite of despair, to live in joy with a dash of exuberance, so I think of symbols I might wear, like those crosses or stars, I wonder if those charms do the trick, if there is even a trick, surely we can not be full of joy and exuberance all of the time, but why not try, at least most of the time, there are far worse goals in life, I struggle to find the symbol I can adorn that will be a reminder when worn, “hey buddy, you are alive, life is good, smile”, or something more poetic and high minded but the refrain will remain the same in end meaning, sometimes I concentrate and imagine I can feel the world’s energy flowing into me, sort of like a reverse fountain of energy, like drawn out magnetic poles, I imagine it can replenish me or allow me to share in all that is good in the world, of course such meditation of thought only lasts for a bit, like all else so not permanent, and I wonder if I am stealing a bit of nature’s thunder like some sort of psychic vampire or something more sinister as I try to siphon the life force from the world, because intention is not always the answer and has consequences beyond, but then I come to consider the whole mind boggling size of the universe and I suppose my little request at the forever elixir is not to much to impose, as we all do at some point, but how will I ever know? I guess one day if there is a ledger, and my deeds are so written, I will have to measure up, seems daunting but who knows what that reality will require, if anything, until then I endeavor to find a wellspring, a source, a way to embrace and exude… joy and exuberance.

Your thoughts, comments, eyes and looks are all appreciated.  We are only here a short time, take a breath and always remember that… or at least try…

conversations, in your head…

conversations, in your head…

aerial photo of crater lake
Photo by Adil Gökkaya on Pexels.com

the living scar
might you take a stroll
and walk with me a while
tell me your ills
tales of woe
broken wrecks
upon these bones
so let us stroll
down these miles
through winding paths
all the while
your soul’s despair
sitting on a bench
for contemplation
under the stars
for this map has been tread upon
landmarks marked in the charcoal drawn
paces met to trace a start
I’ll lend you an ear
and reveal all you’ve taught
so, let us talk

notes… nah, I don’t feel like it tonight, I think this one is self evident, besides I am on vacation this week… off to the poconos, local but oddly I have never stayed there just driven through…

music?  heavy, if you can handle it…. Scar Symmetry – Dreaming 24/7

a little simple (poem)…

a little simple (poem)…

black wooden louver door window
Photo by Leah on Pexels.com

“tired
jaded by the sun
must recall
the rush of life
in all forms
and regain
the wonder
the miracle
forward”

notes… just something that struck me, life has a routine to it that we get used to, but we shouldn’t forget how amazing it is that we are actually here, at this moment, I try to hold on to that, that amazing fact…

Thoughts… from the porch… (bomb cyclone edition)

Thoughts… from the porch… (bomb cyclone edition)

water drops
Photo by Ali Hassan on Pexels.com

the rain has gone but the song of the storm still plays a heavy dirge upon theses lands (as I observe), there is always these storms this time of year, where the sky is utterly gray and unforgiving, not pockets of lightning, not roving cloud wombs birthing thunder, rains that once quenched the glorious hot pavement of summer, so distant now but from just weeks ago, all the demons and reasons creeping back in, in this season, the summer light kept them hidden, locked in their quarters, but now as the trees are being undressed, their hiding places no longer needed, they are coming out, to stalk the night as it grows longer and longer, chewing, gnawing at the edges of the day morsel by mouthful, a crescendo descends upon the devil’s night, as candy and subtle mayhem ignite imaginations, shadows and flickering candles dancing in jack smiles, the world is retelling the ancient story, one it knows well, sending emissaries and portents to further the tale, and should we pay mind, or pay strict attention, details and devils may rise, all in the slight of hand concealed by an autumn storm as it rages in from the ocean on familiar northeastern tract, we bustle about under all this happening almost unaware, this transforming, but yet it dictates our path, changes trajectories whether we perceive them or not, from one leaf down to the whole lot, soon, soon a blanket will come, not of comfort but stillness cold, as the world prepares and truth be told, not mere whispers but whipping winds, change is coming and has already been.

music... Badlands – Winter’s Call

notes…  thanks to all who read my words, all thoughts, comments, recipes, music recommendations and everything else is appreciated, I write this blog for me but if it helps anyone else? I’m cool with that, thanks.