lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

planet earth
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

let the core of this earth
be as is my heart
a world
existing only
for you, eden-born
my love, my gemini, for I am bound
as my soul, to this dirt
from which I come
which I came to know you,
forever the poles
as they track the sun
until all light fades
my love shall remain
until the dying collapse
that will end all days
so-
I will be with you
forever.

notes… this is meant to be staccato in rhythm, in beats, at least that is the way, it reads, to me, and I meant, to write it, that way… but always for her, for her, the one I will always love, until the day, the day I die.

cultural divide (a short ditty, true story)

cultural divide (a short ditty, true story)

close up portrait of a antelope
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

so anyway, if you read me, my blog I mean, I like to people watch from my porch and take in the super local nature at the same time, the other day some deer were born in my backyard and I caught one of the little fellas on video, so there I am sitting out last night, enjoying the lovely weather, letting nature purge the knots of my daily humanity, so on walks by this older Russian couple, I don’t know Russian but I guess I saw enough stereotyped movies in the 80s to recognize Russian, anyway, all of a sudden the wife starts walking up my neighbor’s lawn across the street, this is curious of course, but then I see one of the little baby deer I filmed last week, she was getting in close for a photo with her phone, I thought, so I walked over to see the deer also, I mean, cmon, they are adorable, I don’t care who you are, it is instant Bambi love moment man, sure, when they are older I think “yum, venison steak” but at that age? they are like forest puppies, so, she finally gets within spittin’ distance and the little one bolts, mama appears on the scene and they disappear off into the next block, so from across the street I tell them “I just saw that one born last week”, and without skipping a beat, in a very, almost made up, laid on thick Russian accent she blunts out (now say this out loud in the accent to get the effect)…

“it is baby… it is stupid”

ah, yeah, ruined that moment dead flat but those words just sounded so hilarious to me, the only clever thing I could think to say was “we were all stupid when we were babies”, and we both went our separate ways, so, the takeaway, maybe everyone is not as enamored with baby deer as I am…

thoughts, from the porch… (a moment in the sun)

thoughts, from the porch… (a moment in the sun)

yellow concrete house
Photo by Thgusstavo Santana on Pexels.com

taking a moment to soak in the sundown, not really a sunset most nights (like the kind when you hear the word “sunset“), my view is not of some majestic mountains or other similar bucolic loveliness, no, just the sun dipping below sight, tucked behind my neighbor’s house, but it will suffice, until something nicer comes along, I suppose that is what vacations are for, I close my eyes intently & intensely to concentrate on what is left of the day’s rays, to absorb every single last joule of radiant solar energy, hopefully put smartly into my internal battery, if there is such a thing, well, at least there is in my imagination that is, so go with it, I suppose this is meditation of sorts, on outside observation I probably look half asleep, and in fact I think I may have teetered back and forth a bit, perhaps eyes open is a better option after a long day of remote client support, one of those days the phone rang before I could even comprehend the morning, and non stop flow until the clock was up, one of those days that after I tell myself to not allow myself to get wound, but by 10am and 2 coffees in I’m down that hole spinning ’round and ’round, so this is like my decompression chamber, well, more like my green open space, not a private matter as all passersby can cast their judgments and questionable looks upon me, I try to spin close the leaky spigot of my thoughts, let my mind expand out into a relaxed pause, I concentrate on a blade of grass gently bobbing up and down, just slightly taller than the rest, that is why it stands out, I scan around & wonder @ all the manner of green hues in the leaves occupying the personal canopy of my yard, the birds sound even, singing even, not chatter or arguments or chirping fits or territorial spits, the chaos of the world seems lulled by mild order and the meandering pitch perfect wind, as the breeze works toward and over like just warm pulsing bath water across my bare ankles, I have at least this little escape, this space of mine for this time, sitting somewhat selfish with a beaming inner satisfaction, as the breeze leaves me in the past like a clever thief, I notice the savage has been sapped from within my keep… rejuvenation, a moment in the sun. (thanks earth, I owe you one)

notes… as always, thanks for the looks, the views, the thoughts, the news, any and all comments are appreciated, negative or positive, it’s cool, thanks for taking the time to check out my little blog. I would say I do it for you… but nah, this is my art, I do it for me, I hope people like it, I want people to dig it? sure.  But one is enough, 10,000 would rule, but hey, I ain’t that out of my head …

PS: maybe I am stupid, but I tag my posts accurately, that probably explains the highs and lows, the spikes and the tumbleweed, but that is what I do, that is who I am…

a little prayer of sorts…

a little prayer of sorts…

brown field under cloudy sky at night
Photo by Wendy Wei on Pexels.com

“I pray to the sun –
for guidance
to the moon –
to ease my mind
to the stars –
as a reminder of infinite possibility
to all these –
as all humanity once does once has once will
may the light become my pathway
until my heart beats still”

notes… not a religious thing, more of a spiritual thing, the more years I hang on this familiar mantle I try to just look out and observe all this around me, it is astounding, and yet so nothing compared to the everything, what a dilemma, but it teaches you to love what you have – not what you can never have, does it always hold? hey, I can only try, this is my first time at life (as far as I know), nothing is perfect, nothing is always 100% right, but damn there is beauty in this world I endeavor to enjoy…

‘wish upon a star’ (no, not the song, more like contemplation, an idea)

‘wish upon a star’ (no, not the song, more like contemplation, an idea)

photo of supernova in galaxy
Photo by Alex Andrews on Pexels.com

what if, the beams, the light, the starlight we have all known since we could look skyward at night, what if the light was actually a stream of information, a story, a history, an encapsulation of time, maybe it is but we have not the tools to access the data or comprehend the language, as we know – light from the stars we see now could be thousands or if not millions of years old by the time it pierces our eyes, so what if that is somehow a series of photographs captured in a light stream, an album, snapshots, a step by step catalog of a star’s life above from the past until the moment that instant penetrates our eyes and enters into the ripe groves of our minds, think of how generations of imaginations have looked up and wondered, since human kind began, is this all coincidence? the constellations drawn upon with lines, connect the dots, why? the draw, the fascination, perhaps our subconscious is reacting to an underground radio station broadcasting beyond AM or FM, there are parts of the universe far older than our young civilization, what fantastic tales might these reaches bring, stars are truly brilliant torches of inspiration swimming in the vast darkness… but are they more? so the more I look, so the more I yearn, to know, and in there lies hope, for all that, beyond our own.

notes… one of those things that bounces around my ole noggin being a space wonk that I am, the sky is easier to see these days here in suburban Jersey, although the views in rural Maryland where I disappear, er, I mean vacation at least once a year, are just spectacular with the naked eye (although I ponied up this year for a telescope, hopefully photos to come when I get good at it), but think about it, digest it, mull about it a bit, when you see a star you are not seeing a light bulb you just turned on, you are literally looking at the past, something from thousands of years ago or older, you are not looking at ‘now’… pretty mind blowing that just the night sky itself is not real, or at least not current for the most part, imagine if you walked around every day with eyes seeing ten years ago, 100 years ago, or so… well, we kind of forget that is what we are doing with the stars above… so chew on that for awhile my friends… oh and listen to some space rock care of my favorite Canadians (RIP Piggy, but the new guy is pretty damn good, this was the crux of Piggy’s guitar work imo, not that anyone cares but damn I will sing his praises until I’m gone, I like unicorns, so be it)…

thoughts hit you sometimes…

thoughts hit you sometimes…

brown leaf
Photo by hiwa talaei on Pexels.com

I just came in from outside, I did not notice a straggler, a stowaway of sorts, a hanger on, a single sad maple leaf, wrinkled and dead dried, probably dragged in on my shoe or shooed in by a weak wind, I picked it up and threw it away as insignificant, and then, it hit me, someday, someone will read my obituary and do the same thing… with me.

notesmorbid ? perhaps. true? probably.  The eventuality, the realization, it is all there, an underlying theme I try to ignore because I have no control over it… but it does not erase that it is there… do I look away? do I pay attention? do I subscribe to a belief?  … all of these… all of these…

Wicked Cargo…

Wicked Cargo…

caravel-cruise-ship-mediterranean-sea-847147

the ship has left port, many years now, on the open ocean, never can tell how long the voyage will last, never can tell how vast the ocean really is (although theories have been floated for all of our years), just that at some point, it ends, there are tales and maps of some mystical magical land, but no man has returned hence, only rumors, hope and despairs, should I as well follow this folly? what choice might I have, to sail in circles, to try and double back to my original destination, no, I point to the horizon, for what good is traversing already traveled routes, yes, I know them well, and any dangers in them I have navigated before, there is calm in the comfort there, but I seek more, I only have what I have brought, in my hold there is so much stored up these years, boxes of inventory I probably could no longer identify, things from far and wide, foreign lands, foreign hands, but all have gotten me here, so should I lighten the load, and forget these forgotten things? maybe in the mess is really pandora’s guess, I could be hatching all the mistakes yet once over again, or do I risk rising over the same ones by not reminiscing in the failures once passed, the balance in the ballast is a constant task, so many have come and gone, but yet you are left all alone to make the decisions, all the wisdom that lies beneath this sea, brilliance and wickedness all washed underneath, bathed in the same waves that rock back and forth for me, and toward the north star at night, so bright as to catch all imagination of eyes, a call to attention, to the world, to humanity itself, for these eyes are not seeing anew, they are seeing the same as all the travelers will, future and past, parent to child, for there has been no columbus as yet unfold, but yet we must be bold and push further, out to the setting sun, past the rising light, break the curve of that said horizon, to find the light, the land, the promise, the hand, that might reach out and touch the domain of the everlasting.

notes… hey, I am child of the 80s, ok maybe an odd one, my first musical love was Duran Duran, then I got into Def Leppard (I would play air guitar on my newfangled Prince racket that was all the rage), Metallica (being into metallica back in that day was not cool/normal by the way), Voivod (touted as the fastest band around), King’s X (the most underrated rock band of all time), Testament, Exodus (that song is a lost anthem), Anthrax (fun band)… and always classical, I was the preppy nerd who was friends with all the burn outs (the kids in black metal shirts who smoked)… it was a simple time back in high school in my town…

just a quip, a thought…

just a quip, a thought…

sky space dark galaxy
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

morality
religion
not twins
nor siblings
often confused as lovers
but they are quite
something other

notes… just a thought, there are those that post on high moral standards using the crucible of religion.  you do not need religion to have morality, I am not discounting religion, that is a personal choice, and I am good with that, but those of us who do not believe in said religions can still have solid morals, I used to be that snobby northeast agnostic who looked down on religious folks as dummies who believed in a voice in the sky (an easy position in retrospect, just a way to dismiss), I don’t claim to have the answers so who am I to think myself superior in some way to those who have found their answer, I don’t, I am not them, I am not you, I am me, and I respect our  differences, I would love to have an answer, the big answer, that would really quiet the storm (and fear) in my mind, I do think I will die without the answers I seek until they confront me in that ultimate time, and maybe that will be to late, but I have to admit my fear, my panic, my scrambling, do I have faith? yes. because I try to live morally as best I can, if that is not good enough for my soul because I didn’t follow a book or a man?  I have to be accountable for that, so I am….

the song of spring (poem)

the song of spring (poem)

close up photo of a bed of white flowers
Photo by Simon Matzinger on Pexels.com

the song of spring
awaits the gates
of winter passing
slumbers under
forests waking
snow is melting
eyes now rise
bulbs bear bursting

the song of spring
awaits the grass
the birth of seed
for those once lost
a sweet reprieve

notes… I could delve into the layers I was weaving, but nah, I am still working six days a week through all this covid madness, and back at work physically every other day, my job intersects the poorest and richest communities in the tri state area, I will literally be in Bed Sty one day and Franklin Lakes NJ the next (many NY Giants/athletes there – Go Giants, sorry, couldn’t resist, glad my parents were not Jets fans) … talk about interesting… and my specialty, self check outs (NCR), orders are out the door these days as you can imagine

‘triggers’ – sassafras

‘triggers’ – sassafras

download

we all have them, perhaps we are aware of some, some creep up out of nowhere and make themselves known, well, of course we do really know from which they emanate, from our past, our experiences, life’s little moments or big ones or those in-between, I am always fascinated when one pops up from under the ether, today was one of those times, I was off in my social distant preserve, well, ok, even pre-pandemic this little corner was always a lone go, if I saw more than two people in a given day that would be a record, there is this space here in New Jersey, only a 15 minute drive for me, that is rather unique, a winding park where a brook (non babbling, more of a give and take conversationalist) carves through ancient rock formations and is constantly washing fossils into the stream, and it is 100% free and legal to meander through the entire thing and look/dig for said fossils, this is not a common thing, anywhere that is, so the privilege is certainly there, being alone in nature, especially on a lovely day such as this, well, that’s a bonus, so, I travel there to escape the normal world, to unwind, listen to the micro waterfalls and birds sounding all around, I go there often when the dial hits above 70 degrees, so why was today different?
Sassafras
for the uninitiated, or people not from around these parts, I will give you a moment to follow the link and get the basics… (waiting…) … …
OK, that’s enough time, but man Dave, can you get this thing back on track already? eh, you’re right, maybe I should call this blog “tangents” at times, but this post is “triggers”, so back to the matter, sassafras has such a specific meaning for me, such a direct correlation than just some random tree, if you see one (they are easy to spot once you know, three different types of leaves), if you see one rip off a leaf, rip that in half and then again, then sniff it all in, it is a singular smell, like lemon and pine adopted a beautiful child, you can even make tea from the leaves, BUT! that smell, that experience of ripping the leaves and the inhale, transports me back instantly to day camp, my first experiences in the wilderness outside the woods of my town, taking the bus up into the Watchung mountains (tame mounts by any count), tree forts, corn stalk fields to run in, bug juice (a cheap version of Kool Aid/Juicy Juice I think), hunting for salamanders under rocks, the pop of box turtles as the bus ran them over and climbed the hill to camp (not the most pleasant memory I admit but it was so distinct), day camp, the first time I was really away from the folks for any length of time, everything seems like an eternity at that age, every single day was a complete enclosed adventure, and the next day, start over, tighty-whities with your name sewed in, handed the brown paper bag lunch with the same stuff, board the bus, anticipate the winding drive up, run out like a dam burst, claim your cubbyhole, and frolic about, I even got to sheer sheep, looking back, maybe not a skill I would need, but making macaroni necklaces isn’t exactly a vocation either… so sassafras, it brings all this flooding back, in an instant, like a flash flood from my subconscious, things I have not thought of in decades, from just that simple scent, that singular scent, all wrapped up in past experience, I have a sudden hankering for bug juice…