rubric cubicle

rubric cubicle

…this is certainly a pendulum I postulate, and much like the afore mentioned swinger I too sway back and forth at times, having a sharp memory is both an anchor and an anchor, swift to hold me in harbor and swifter to hold me from other ports of call, usually I post a song after my little missives, today, tonight, all depending on your lati and longi, I posted above the fold, as for many, a song can transport you to a single moment of time, and no einstein-rosen bridge needed, truly a wonder of the human mind, if this were a happy memory…
I had just bought my first i-pod mini, up until then I was too cool for the apple school, such a maverick (rolls eyes at old self)… how could I just give in and ingest the evil fruit of the serpent Job’s tongue, no, I had to find every off brand thing I could, Zune… and some others I can’t even recall (and perhaps history will not either), one of the first albums I loaded into this wonderful little player was the album “Menos El Eso” which translated means “Minus the Bear” which is also the name of the band, how clever, of course I did not look that up for some time, so the irony of the album name was lost on me for a while at least…
so I find myself in Islamorada, the Florida keys, my first time back in the state since I left her, even if I almost feel like I never did in some ways (I am sure she would disagree), the moments, the week, seemed as if the whole world was meant for me to screen -like an exclusive movie premier, the hotel was nearly empty, one family besides me, oddly enough they were from my home state and town (what were the chances?), this particular hotel is a collection of suites (think condos) so even at capacity there is only eight rentals in this part of the resort, right on the water, Atlantic ocean staring at me in yards, a beach
with a wall drop off at the end, I suppose due to tides the sand would just get swept away constantly, luckily, or by design more likely, there was a private dock, the dock stretched out about thirty feet give or take in a “T” formation, on the right portion of the T there was a rock circle or just a natural feature where you could dip your feet in while sitting on your duff on the dock, I called this little corner home most nights, looking out on the shimmering pure azure allure of tropical water, glistening like magic should, even just a hint of moonlight lit up the shallow ocean floor like an aquarium, even the thought of this memory washes over me right now with utter relaxation, the waves gently riding up against my feet and shins, the palm tree fronds above casting tiger stripes along the boards next to me, that soft tropical breeze stops by to whisper in my ear, caress my lobes as the song weaves a soundtrack that befits all I am inhaling with all my senses… god, I think, I could die here…
on some nights storms would roll in, like their own city-states floating islands, isolated and violent, lightning nit-picking and licking only portions of the sky where the certain collectives of clouds were comprised, like armies marching in abandoned rows, passing all around me but none above me as my toes wave back and forth in water with no effort, enjoying the little fish here to go and fro, wishing she was here, to forget the whole, and just be together with no words, no reason, just to pass into eternity with her by my side, no forgiveness given, just so she would know my heart once more.
I go back and forth, memory or none, anchor or moor, but regardless, I can not escape who I am, was or will become, sitting alone on a dock waiting for a miracle to come even with all the wonders of the world surrounding me, numb, wondering and knowing all I have done wrong, but somehow not judged except by my own thoughts, and there is no escape from that verdict, even in this space, but somehow, somewhere in there, a non speaking voice let’s me know all will be well, but I strain to hear it… in the din of my own mind, if I could only be as quiet as this godly tide…

abderdeen.

abderdeen.

the pebbles of abderdeen
strewn out on this spit of sand
the uneven pieces
not even a puzzle
not even a map
the randomness only
orderly tides can create,
a random skyline of stars-
all traveling
while ours, we orbit
and here we are
in our corner of the milky way
on the corner of our little home
on the shores of a bay
in abderdeen;
not known outside these parts
not talked about in legends
but here lives come
and here they pass
in this little hamlet of new jersey
the shore of aberdeen.

snow beach of aberdeen

snow beach of aberdeen

Aberdeen, NJ (Cliffwood Beach)… during the mild snow storm Tuesday… not a pretty beach by such normal standards, but the ocean is the ocean none the less (listen), find a space near you, a refuge, go there, take it in for all it’s worth, even in the barren face of a winter storm, there is something there to learn… all these years I have never been to this beach, a mere 15 minutes from my home… I have been endeavoring to fix this flaw and explore my own state, a much maligned state, but like most things, the glossed over paragraph of a thing does not allow to see the depth of a thing… if you want to check out all the places I visit here (and surrounding states)… check out my YouTube channel (shorts , longs). I try to give you a feel of the places I visit. I also encourage you to bust out a google map and see what is around, you might be surprised.

on those golden wings.

on those golden wings.

oh seraph!
take me upon your golden wings
for you know this world-
far better than I
for longer than reign
I trust not to the fall
when upon, your golden wings-

I would not dare take up to the sky
for fear and humanity anchors my neck
my brow is fraught with the hearts of men
but you, oh seraph!
kin of the ancient kind
I wonder, wonder If I may
beseech upon you a ride-
into that great kingdom
from that you stride,
oh seraph!
I call, I call, I call

notes: a muse, an angel, a devil, a demon, or the spine of my unconscious mind revel…

the carousel

the carousel

in flashing bulbs of light
the prancing pretty ponies
enveloped in vertigo silk

that circular song
can not focus on a point
in this orbit, I am bound

perpetual motion-
steals my breath-
this carnival, has teeth!

(edit: just now after posting…)

among glaring pulsing bulbs
those prancing pretty ponies
enveloped in vertigo silks
hand painted, chipped from age
white teeth grin wide

that circular song
on and on
can not focus on a single point
as the closed loop is sewn
in this orbit, I am bound

perpetual motion-
up ! and the down-
steals my breath-
this carnival,
(fear now)
this carnival…
has teeth!

notes: this one started out as an exercise in Haiku (5/7/5).. and then went somewhere else, much like Mr. Bungle this defies the norm of the genre but respects the core of it… well, at least that was the intention… I was thinking about how out of control my mind goes when wrapped up in the maelstrom of work.. did I seek out this chaos or am I just a fish biting the baited hook? with my age and experience I should not be so easily deceived… I think… but … it is a struggle, to know you are on a ride and hop off to sit on the picnic bench for a minute… and just breathe, you are not in charge of the world, the entire world is not crumbling, perspective and a deep breath goes a long way…
black umbrella

black umbrella

black umbrella;-
and I fancy myself a zebra!
but from above-
just another pinwheel
spokes poke out
in the rain
like anything else

notes… I love to think of myself as a unicorn, and maybe I am compared to the norm, to the masses, but alas, everything I can think of has already been done unless technology has not allowed it yet, but from a personal perspective I am not creating inter personal relationship canon, although I perceive it as such, such a shame that wisdom can not be downloaded and processed so much more in our youth, old soul I was once called, I guess because I was consumed in thought, it certainly was not running my deposit account of experience…