enamored
if my words were silk sheets
wrapped around your naked skin
sultry eyes, captivation
luring time as clock hands spin
step outside
my own dimension
desire two makes one
by my own extension
hairs on end
at attention
notes… a slightly different tact this week kind of like last week but not, remembering the absence of presence, waking up every day next to her, seems like someone else’s dream these days and certainly not reality or my own memory anymore…
erudite in the language of the sun
conversations with solar implications
warming rays fade in my waning days
might I stride along your cosmic road
and sit stridently still upon your shore
to witness in glory bathe and full force
waves strip instant of my magnetic core
and for once before my skin burns tender flesh
for the absolute briefest moment might I instead
experience the form that binds and breathes
of all of the universe as neutrinos speed
through – and – passed
notes… kind of playing around with various concepts, sometimes I just think about things like what it would be like to walk up to the sun to experience the full on force, because I marvel at how the Earth survives in such a harsh environment, if we weren’t exactly X distance (give or take) from the sun, had enough water (comets?), had a strong magnetic field (which creates the aurora borealis) and one huge asteroid decided to land in the Yucatan and wipe out millions of years of dinosaur rule…. that and some sweet lovin’ that went down by my folks and their folks before them before them before them etc…. wow, it is crazy to think about all that had to happen in the universe just for me to be here typing away on my blog… so, yeah, that’s the space I was in writing this… in case you were not wondering… thanks, as usual, comments, likes, spitballs, old tab cans and general flotsam is always appreciated (except for you, the one reading this, I’m kidding of course… or am I? (raised eyebrow provocatively) ) …
music to contemplate the stars… Humanmeshdance – Wet Moon
“am-track“
a train comes screaming through
the local shop
the tracks rumble
inside my head space
how did I not notice the construction
must have transpired
through the night
when did I become
just part of the line
a place to get on
no longer a destination
notes… this was started/inspired by my daily drive on route 27 in Edison, I saw some construction on the railway line into NYC which is quite popular here, Edison has boomed due to the fact that so many roads and hubs pass through my town… I say my town because I grew up here, I have seen it change and grow immensely, not a bad thing, just a different thing, metropark was once the biggest train station in the state, I bet it still is volume wise, but anyway this poem was in my brain and full of metaphors about change and progress…. with the train station in mind.. or mind…. (and AMTrack is the NJ area service), this is staccato rhyme/rhythm, count the beats…
“each and every step
is a battle
in a fight
in which
gravity
will eventually
win.”
notes… gravity is the weakest force, think about it… you, a lowly human can lift your feet, you can lift a rock or anything else within reason, but gravity is the epitome of determination, erosion, like death, gravity always wins…
in terms of the poem I was going for staccato form… from the drop of the word ‘step’ it is on a metronome beat.. you can count the beats if you like, one one thousand, two one thousand…. yeah, I think about that stuff sometimes….
music? Interstellar (main theme)
I loved the movie, and one of my big pet peeves about movies is having a memorable theme… this is one of those…
might I be aware
and enjoy the warm rays
bright bouquets against the seas
one more time
upon the waves
that carry my soul away
to some other place
I hope
to some other place
I pray
notes… maybe my first “prayer” poem that I wrote since I started writing again (ahem, this blog)… this is actually from april (looking through some of my now old stuff), kind of sums up the vibe I am going for at times, waves, and things repeating because life is like that in so many ways…
Just something that caught my eye… all the textures mixed together, nature does the work, I just stumbled upon it… metaphors galore if you will, or shall…
that is all…
a slightly different tact this week, lost love? to be sure, but perhaps a bright light to disarm the night, to lead forth into the day… perhaps, such is the gift of remembrance at times…
“butterfly“
I saw a butterfly a wandering
circles in flowing long loops
in patterns somehow familiar
so long has this been
for I recognize in this, her
this many years
was this my life in that other lifetime
like a dream embedded in my memory
your dropped note
and all that was is now at my front door
my first love
before I knew what love was
all wrapped in new circumstance
the warm naivete of innocence
ah, I feel it now
sweet jo where have you been
that different life tangent
what could have been
and still this feels the same
I remember well our time
even if your name has faded
from my every day and days indeed
your note brought this all back
holding your hand
your gentle touch
the electricity conducted through
oh my first love
how have you been?
so many possibilities
on life’s divergent path
has crossed ours once more
if only for a chat
notes… my first real love sent me a note recently, it was quite unexpected and out of the blue, amazing to have something still stirring there inside after all these years, buried somewhere deep in the years of me but not gone, I was just a kid but I remember distinctly so much, she fell asleep in my lap as we watched TV at her mother’s house, I felt she trusted me fully at that point and it was just a life affirming moment, little things, it is always the little things that are the binding… and the things we miss…
what if… you could meet god (in whatever fashion, design, form or belief you believe in), and could make a deal where every time your physical body dies you would be reincarnated as another sentient humanoid (or close thereof) being – therefore never truly dying forever, the catch? you will have no memory of the previous being but you will persist, in some form, forever, on various planets (in the sheer vastness of this universe – or perhaps another) or wherever this god creation cares to place you on. So, in a sense you guaranty your survival, but you lose this, this you, your individuality and awareness. Do you make the deal ? or maybe you have made it already… Is losing your individual nature, this collection of things (experience mixed with your time), is this just death dressed up in just another coat ?
I must admit I find myself pondering my mortality probably more than I should, I mean, after all it is life’s most vexing question is it not? I have not found a sufficient solution in the house of religion, and frankly religion is certainly created by man, most surely fallible but not guaranteed wrong (if religion works for you, awesome, I have absolutely no problem with that, and perhaps I might be jealous of your relief/belief at the end of the day), I am certainly not an atheist but the possibility that we are just a random creation from a pool of physical laws, unfortunately, I can not dismiss that entirely, I just don’t know, I do not have the answers, and I doubt I might ever find one satisfactory (although I must admit I hope I am wrong on that count).
E=mc^2
I must say this always felt like a glimmer of hope for me, a scientific raft in the sea of the unknown as it were, The Law of the Conservation of Mass, so therefore I will never disappear fully in that sense, if that makes sense, there will always be a part of the universe that is me, but will it be ‘me’? it is a bit daunting to ponder but if one of the basic laws of physics is a start on this path maybe I can approach god and broker a deal for some reincarnation… just what type is where the bargaining might have to begin… but if there truly is a god (and I hope there is), god will already know my price forthwith, and outwit me in such negotiations.
trying to capture a moment, a feeling, this is one of those, perhaps a bit specific, but maybe not so slender to not deliver the scene… I wrote this one quite a while ago and forgot about it in my little book (OK,USB stick I carry on me which I transcribe my poems onto… not as romantic as the pure written word, but it is honest I suppose…)
“biography”
stopped to fill up my tank
mercedes sl parked
hardtop on
mid 80’s I speculate
paint faded by the sun
almost gone in spots
flat tire
driver’s side
my old boss had one
(I think to myself, recalling)
we had to load up the trunk
in winter
to drive straight.
clean my windshield
pump is done
time to get back
back to work
so I pull off
into the street
right turn.
notes… some very northeastern us stuff in there…. and in New Jersey we can not pump our own gas (yes, seriously) so you have time to look around and contemplate life at the ole gas fill up type place…
Shades of My Garden 