lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

drift

the stretching- beautiful blue sky out-
as I drive, the span over the meadowlands,
tree tops, now budding, in this spring
my mind wanders- dreams- drifts- as it should
and then inward; there is that moment of inner inspection reflection;
looking for that place
where my mind will rest
and my heart might forget, (her)
all these years-
and still-
no one compares to you, my love
for each replaced thread, so abandoned
I am reminded-
and so long,
even the fear has long since departed
the familiar denial has settled in
the submission
to the cold acceptance
with only your memory
to keep me warm
until I go. (there)

(and I pray someday to see you again-
for sometimes the hope, the dream is all I have)

sometimes I am mysterious, or arcane, or sometimes I am a merchant of simplicity… depends on the world and how my mind drifts, this was today… (I wrote this piece listening to this song, why? who knows… it was what made me think, made me muse, so I am tried to bring you to the same place, where I put the song on repeat and my mind on repeat until a mantra bubbled up to understand, so it did, profound? loud? soft? correct? righteous? nah… just me.. and maybe you, these days it is what it is, and sometimes I am OK with that even if I wish for the bliss, I realize I had a time in the sun, would I like another? yes…)

prologue.

prologue.

“you know, you can not go forward
by reaching back”

I know, I know,
but who am I talking to myself anyway
for all the truths I know
do not equal those I believe
or even less that I practice
so same is the face I wear
familiar the clothes
for
this is what I know.

the strangeness of inspiration, so muse

the strangeness of inspiration, so muse

time to put away the winter things
sleds in sheds
boots in darkness
closet corners full
less dress
car packed full
an adventure to take
under the summer sun

notes… went back in my time machine, well, not really, of course, I WOULD share that with you, if I could, of course… but I pulled up an old snippet from the year 2019 and it spoke to me, I guess, sub-consciously, and so this came about, of it, that union of my own old thought, and now, how things change, and will, always, move forward, so I should, I am trying… how hard, depends who you ask, who wants to be honest in all that, who wants to push, even if we know the cliff could be right there, I should get busy, have more urgency, but I wrap myself in the every day race and tail, reflecting on it does not move the needle, which I need to do before I am quite dead, literally.

in the moment.

in the moment.

a conjuration-
I am-
suddenly found ‘midst
an unusual sun shower
a downpour
of cherry blossom petals
a shame,
for they will never feel
the real kiss
of the true summer sun
so I must
for them

notes… this is what haiku is to me, not the form, the beauty. I was going to my car after work in the blah industrial section of Hackensack , NJ where I work, there are cherry blossoms lining the side street, warehouses line both sides, but yet… cherry blossoms are the there, in line, that attract the wild birds of the area, such as they are, we even get quaker parrots from time to time, so, there I was, in the middle of a storm, of petals… and I took a moment to inhale and observe, beauty is there in daily things.. just take a second and look for it…

the long wedding…

the long wedding…

Matrimony

so-
should I?
marry you
death-
now or then
why wait?
why the rush?
inevitable-
the perfect mate;
fate-
so let the courtship begin
and never end.
unless I should begin again;
reincarnation or resurrection-
so let the lantern be lit
so I may follow
into the path of light
.

something in the works…

something in the works…

a work I am working on… a poem in this case... this is my blog, so no rules, this is an active thing I wrote just now and want to hone bit, what that means? who knows? who cares… I am posting where I am, so deal, my blog is me and me is the blog, lol.. so f it… I might repost this poem 10 times, in the scheme of things it means nothing, so like it or not… but his was the first raw form of this particular work… why the hell do I write anyway…

driving in the driving rain

the car in front of me

is going impossibly slow, grating

glowing red tail lights bending and distorting, bends

driving down that street

passing my father’s grave

(to my right – somewhere in measurable feet)

I ponder the moment,

no monument, delayed by that goddamn plague,

just grass now, still-

a funeral only, few allowed, if only, to attend

so the plague continues to ravage, above

I truly hope, you are not there my father, below

watching, the gathering pools of rain, above

so I wonder

where you are

where will I be

and I wait to hear the voice-

that never comes

but I know where-

I must come.

one of those days, you know, when the sun hits your skin…

one of those days, you know, when the sun hits your skin…

soak up the sun
when you can,
no, no, no, not for a tan
lest your vanity
replace such absolute gravity
soak up the sun
for when else
can your truly
bathe in starlight
not at night-
not from the moon-
for that is just
a hiding reflection
a pale excuse
while you snooze.

and sometimes, you think, you clink, your tool, you fool, just love it, bring it in, the sunshine, ya feel me ? (oh and by the way I call this staccato poetry, so that is on purpose, it is the way I hear it in my mind when I write it)… as always your thoughts are appreciated, if you think I am a putz, that’s ok, I might disagree even, on most days…
the presence of breath…

the presence of breath…

The presence of breath, the actual physical nature, air is molecules like any other thing is, a stone, a flowing stream, a mountain, the moon… air is one of these but we tend to forget in between beats, so I say sip the air, savor the sensation on your lips as it passes, think of the astounding mechanisms we have running on auto pilot, relish the actual feel of breath (the weight), of life as this physical substance flows in as an inner tide bringing the actual force of life to your shores, for without this, there is nothing more, there is space, a vacuum, emptiness, with breath, you are always full of the miracle, each and every pull on your bellows, from rising sun to head on pillow, and even in sleep the tide rolls on and in, exhale, inhale, this reminder is with us every second, every day – something we all, no matter who, no matter how far, something we all share in the community of humanity at large…

Notes… still trying to find my personal talisman, my way of reminding myself to really both live life and appreciate it in every moment… is that possible ? I’m trying. I have mostly failed all these years… we are programmed to think (and perhaps it is true) that if we were stupid rich we could find happiness, now, I am not saying money buys happiness, clearly not, but does it buy escape from the system at large? is it ok to be enlightened and want financial freedom? I guess that is something I can expound on that in another post…

treason in the union.

treason in the union.

with sharp eye
I respect- and keep watch

on those outward-open, snakes;
but much rather fear and despise
these inner vipers
housed, inside these walls
who greet, with handshakes and smiles
that belie, their venomous intent

sometimes the worst enemy is already in your camp, and you know, but when will you purge them?

and to anyone (perhaps you) new to my blog, I post raw, these are all almost just birthed works, does that mean anything ? no, not really, but this is not some manicured lawn or a plan, this is just a place where I post my immediate art. should that affect your opinion ? maybe not, but that is what this (my) space is all about, an extension of my thoughts complete or not cast out to the world we share in this wonderful time, because this is our time, so regardless of what is going on “out there”, we have “in here” and just shared a bond… even if for a brief second…

function. (the nature of)

function. (the nature of)

there stands no reason
to interrogate the vulture
for we know where

his beak has been
in between

flesh and bone
in between.
-function;
not I, peacock.

question the nature of self, or at least look in the mirror for the reveal… so? what’s in your nature?