bury with me
one day
bury with me
these dreams
that never came to be
and may be in the dawning of my death
they shall spring to life
as I may never be
so I ask you
bury these, bury them, with me.
notes: for me this is a circular poem, I am comparing ideas to themselves, in circles… unfulfilled dreams (seeds)… your thoughts on the topic are welcome…
sometimes I do not know why my mind goes to the places it does, ideas and thoughts pop in there like a spinning roulette wheel, no, that’s not a good analogy really, there is always the same numbers, perhaps a roulette wheel with constant changing numbers if you could concoct such a contrivance, that would be more accurate, anyway, I was driving home from work tonight, musing, to music as usual, and this feeling came over me, that feeling, one that has not visited this part of the woods in quite sometime, many years even, just that spark, I remember, that initial burst of joy I felt when opening gifts during holiday times or maybe a birthday, I immerse swim in the memory immediately, not liking just ripping gifts open like a wild savage beast, the wrapping paper had value to me, I always peeled the tape, carefully, like a gift ninja in heat, I guess it fit my particular nature, my beat, I tried to avoid letting the tape from pulling up the wrapping paper to where I would see under the epidermis white, almost as if I was peeling off a band aid from a summer dried knee scrape, not wanting to disturb the underneath, my attention to such details seems so singularly silly now, but that buzz of happiness from knowing the gift was coming, that time was here, to see what the haul had brought, inspecting the packages I could always tell (with great excitement) the ones that were various specific things asked for and granted, how exactly big a nintendo cartridge was, and there was only so many out at the time, the double wait time, first the unwrapping, then counting the moments for the crowd family to disperse so you could play the darn thing, play it until your hands were bloody stumps or your feet fell asleep from the awkward seat on the floor you took, the other stack of gifts, that would sit for a day in the unwrapping place, the sweaters, the socks, one year I got underwear I think, not very festive in retrospective…
been awhile since I felt the sensation, I guess I do not like receiving gifts and haven’t for a while now, I prefer giving them but not at the prescribed told time or in the limelight, I like to be spontaneous (when I see something that makes me think of you I buy it) which has caused some consternation among the ‘normal’ folk in my clan, but I persevere, sometimes questioning my modus operandi as a gimmick and not pure, or wondering if there is something wrong with me, moments of self doubt, but I remember those surprise gifts and the reactions, not the awkward looks as I lurk on the periphery of current defined celebrations, I am glad for the memories, the rush, that feeling when I was kid, but I am also awkwardly happy and even sometimes content with the path I have laid, even if comfort in my decisions evades me at times.
for upon your children’s children
a parade of red roses
ash blows the sky
for generations remain
locked beneath in shallow graves
foundation of bone
fire on the feet
countless clock hands clap
a breath, a clasp moment
a heart, a beat to
pulse sweet blood on track
how the world eye remains fixed
a glorious host
the vessel of birth
the cradle that serves
the ending desires of the natural way
of all that may be
expanding
one day collapsing
the cycle of near infinity
loops back upon
your children’s children
a procession of possession
travel on for as long
as time will permit
as time shall exist
notes… I will let this one stand alone, it was one of those that I say “wrote itself” for whatever that is worth, your thoughts on the matter are always appreciated…
(poetic mind)
high beams behind me
on the highway
like bright glaring eyes
a predator’s eyes stalking
a jaguar’s eyes blinding
blinking, back down to the ground
now back up upon the pack
(actual)
why the f#@! does this f@#$%^g jagoff have his god*$*% brights on?
this is the most well lit road in jerzee! this is the friggin GSP ya’ dumb mook!
(proceeds to slow down to put my brights on in retaliation)
no, I’m not proud of it, but sometimes the times get the best of me, this was one of those times, I admit it.
(a follow up to this recent post with all my added notes, annotations, links and such, you might learn a few things (my apologies in advance)
I don’t always annotate but when I do it is dos equis…)
the one and only last of the kind
the singular leaf left
on the branch of an evolutionary tree *(1)
born to dive where there is no light *(2)
no ink to blot the story right *(3)
a true blue blood but not a king *(4)
with the largest eyes in all the realms *(5)
can invert one self into a crown of thorns *(6)
or display luminous blasts from photophores *(7)
perhaps a dash and a sprint
but no marathons happen at these depths *(8)
even so with fearsome name and look
no drop of blood shall pass *(9)
this denizen of the deepest ocean
feeds on falling snow *(10)
the leftovers
cascading down
of the lighted world
so far removed
1. The Vampire Squid is what as known as “phylogentic relict” (I know, say that ten times fast, excellent term though), basically this guy is the last surviving member or it’s particular order (or limb out on the ole’ evolutionary branch, there are many dead ends on these branches). The order that this creature is a part of is called Vampyromorphida (if that isn’t a name for a future horror movie, I don’t know what is, at least give me credit when you write it).
2. These buggers inhabit what is known as the Oxygen Minimum Zone which can have oxygen concentrations as love as 3% (by comparison you are breathing in about 21%).
3. This creature is sort of an early hybrid between an octopus and a squid, however, it can not spray ink for self defense.
4. They literally have blue blood, unlike our hemoglobin their blood uses hemocyanin to carry oxygen through their bodies. Of course blue blood is a play on human royalty. The origins of the term are quite up in the air but it generally stems from the exclusivity of royal blood lines (ahem, inbreeding) and actual physical appearance (you can see royal’s veins more clearly as they tended to stay out of the sun, the common folk toiled out in the sun, not the blue bloods).
5. Compared to body size these little guys have huge eyes, to take in any bit of light they might grab at these depths. Proportionally speaking they are among the largest in the animal kingdom.
6. When threatened the Vampire Squid will nearly turn itself inside out covering it’s head and showing off it’s spikes called cirri. The spikes are just for show though, no danger there (they are fleshy, check out the excellent video below all my blathering). You can say it looks like a ‘crown of thorns‘ which of course is a reference to the sacrifice of Jesus so I am inferring that concept here as the animals literally “turn the other cheek” so to speak.
7. Like many creatures at this depth they can project bio luminous displays from organs called photophores. They can also eject a bio-luminescent mucus full of orbs like a mini fireworks display. However the metabolic cost is high as food is so scarce at these depths the creature would much rather swim away. (and footnote I had to correct the term to photophores from “photo-spores”, my bad, I make mistakes, it happens, but either way it rhymes with thorns… so… there)
8. The squid has relatively weak musculature so it can only swim off in bursts so it relies more on trickery and strange trajectory. It can not maintain top speed for very long at all.
9. Even with such a fierce name this is quite the tame beast, definitely not some bloodsucking denizen of the night as the name might suggest. The name was based on how it looked (which probably helped it survive this long).
10. “Marine Snow” is a term for all the organic junk that floats down from the surface area. The younger squids most likely feed mostly on this, as they get older they will feed on any detritus that might drift on by, really not much different than the snow.
More video of this amazing creature…
I can not explain the feeling, like living in a moment of infinity, maybe it is the season, maybe it is the reason, I was out walking the dog, not some euphemism, literally just letting samantha out to explore and defile the lawn somewhat, I walked, out to the sidewalk, in shorts, in the cold, on january twelth, nearly 2am, wind kicking up some, time seemed to slow down to a crawl, as I looked around, slowly, it felt like forever, like this moment should be everything and all things and was, -infinity-, for a second, it felt like that, nothing else was on this human plane, there was just this, this moment, existing in this space, the wind roaming all around, the moss on the one side of the tree in the streetlight, sort of glowing, or so it seemed, to my left, the sidewalk glistening beneath from some earlier rain, at a certain angle seen, then, I turn, a sudden jarring sound, a plastic water bottle has escaped my recycling bin, rattling down the driveway run away barrel, I stop it, I pick it up, put it back, the dog is there out on the lawn, roaming around with purpose, I feel the breeze, the trees are just lines against the moon now, no leaves, no sounds, just the breeze pure against my ears, around my ears, in my ears whispering things I can not understand, I embrace it, the breeze, strike a jesus pose to try and absorb it all in like a kite flying, I can not take a deep enough breath but I try none the less, to fly, this moment, this is an experience of infinity, of endless life, of life, of life itself, this is that, for a second, I call her back in, my dog, so we can return to the now, the routine, the continuum of the real life, the banal, but I feel as if I touched something else, tonight, even for just that moment.
music to ponder the cosmos by…
not many a January night you can sit out, at least in this clime, in shorts, on the porch, ponder life, look up at the moon, take a moment or two, contemplate, deep breath, and just let the world talk to you, or perhaps the universe should it so be inclined, the moon is bright, but a bit diffused, and lower in the sky than usual, I’m sure there is a good reason, I just don’t care to know at this exact moment of flow, I sit down on my porch, well the steps to be honest, the weather is sliding back into the role as it grows colder and the weatherman is selling rumors of snow later in the week, but now? mild, just a chill, not enough to chase me in before I can take in this night, another night, I can hear a dull murmur of the four lane road not too far off my block, I imagine it is rather a mountain stream, it has that same quality of moving constant sound, but for the occasional sport who feels the need to test their throttle past my little grotto, or the angry driver jousting with another announced by trivial horns, and the occasional jet liner, another low roar you can trace across the sky with both eyes and ears, but mostly quiet…
I look down at my hands, I do not think of myself as a skeleton, but I quite am, I hold my palms against my face and I can almost see the sockets, feel them back there, behind my hands, naked grey caves we inhabit with our flesh, for a time, we are tenants, I look down at my hands again, remembering I am a skeleton, seeing my fingers as bare bones like sticks, only as I examine them, and trying, with my mind to build up all the fleshy layers from there to here in my visual field, everything that makes this work, how often do I even think about what it takes just to make my hands move, my heart pump, my lungs breathe, my feet walk, all in concert, usually, but more often than not a symphony of the unconscious, thinking about it, really visualizing it now, the chassis, the frame, the architecture underneath all this, makes every movement feel different in that light, I imagine watching the electrical spark that travels from my mind down the neural highway, from my shoulder, down to my hand, for each of these thoughts to translate to the page, as if these words are a direct remnant of my machine, a printing press of my brain, just the idea of walking, inhaling, thinking about exactly what is going on, can be exhausting minute to minute, no wonder our bodies can not last forever, what could under such strain, that daily work with no rest, until again, we become once more bones at best.
Anyone reading me for the first time my thoughts from the porch is a thing… well, my thing, although I truly encourage you to do the same, sit out there, wherever, take it all in, write, don’t write, doesn’t matter, just take a moment, that moment, trust me, it is worth it.
and sometimes I am just an old school metal head… sue me…
the one and only last of the kind
the singular leaf left
on the branch of an evolutionary tree
born to dive where there is no light
no ink to blot the story right
a true blue blood but not a king
with the largest eyes in all the realms
can invert one self into a crown of thorns
or display luminous blasts from photophores
perhaps a dash and a sprint
but no marathons happen at these depths
even so with fearsome name and look
no drop of blood shall pass
this denizen of the deepest ocean
feeds on falling snow
the leftovers
cascading down
of the lighted world
so far removed
notes… so this is another I will annotate later when I can make all the cool footnotes and such as to what I was thinking and referencing, see if you can decode it all, I packed this one in, but as usual it is how I wrote it in one sitting, I’m strange that way, when inspiration takes over, that is, now onto the music, deep and heavy like the squids, unique and strange… so take a deep dive my friends….
something so very common, yet when you look at them they are almost alien, I am not talking about your garden variety synthetic ones that are the ones in your sink, bath or wherever, the ones that are actually animals from the oceans of the world (and some fresh water ones as well), they are our cousins after all, how did that first transaction go I wonder, some brave spirit diving a coral reef, or a brief chance encounter washed up on the beach, from we mighty modern folk back to the roman toga crowd and before, I wonder, who was that first of our species to decide “hey, those things look useful, let me rub this on my skin, or soak up this spill due to my kids”, the irony, or not, is that sponges have been around far longer than us (around 640 million years ago give or take a mill), might I be a sponge, some can live hundreds or perhaps thousands of years, they are very stable, sitting anchored in the same place mostly, the same space happy with the rent control of evolution, just letting the breeze of tide provide everything they need, I wonder if sponges could or would, or maybe we need to listen real close, place an ear to the water, they might be heard laughing, knowing they will be around way past our expiration date as a species I bet, but I doubt they would waste an ounce of energy on something outside of the life pipeline like we, something about the brilliant design of simplicity, for we are on the opposite spectrum of that, or so we assume to think, perhaps there is something out there, you know, go look, that sky out there, preferably at night, all that space out there between the stars, perhaps some other form of life is looking down at us and wondering… ‘those things look useful, let me rub one on my skin’…
the coin sides
heads evolution
tails perception
call it in the air…
This morning, the sky was brushstrokes…
taken from my car while moving (hey, I know, I know), garden state parkway, outerbridge to staten island exit (that line above is what popped into my head as I tried to take this picture, the sky has been so miserable lately this was a welcome change, and it was like seeing the horizon smile just for me)
Corrugated metal warehouse wall that bordered the parking lot I was in, 18th Avenue, Brooklyn NY, find beauty wherever you may be (trying to live by the mantra I laid out)… sure, this is not some arboreal forest, or cloud forest, or heck even a common maple tree, but it hit me, just walking to my car, a moment, take that moment, take that time, smile at the sky, smile at everyone, sure, there is some amorphous atmosphere out there, the sun is a huge sphere incalculable miles to our mind to really grab, but the sunshine is still there delayed or not, open up, absorb it as such, even just for a second, turn the ordinary into extraordinary, this is a day, this is a life, rejoice my friends, rejoice, embrace as much as you can, at least try, I fail at this as well, but just wake up and realize, every morning, the gift, your eyes, you are alive, I am alive, I am alive right. now. right. now.
try sleeping to this… or just meditating…
Shades of My Garden 