contemplation about creation and fate…

contemplation about creation and fate…

ancient art asia buddha
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“I wear a carved jade stone
I can not feel the hands
of the mark of the creator
just what has been left behind
from that act of creation
this does not mean
this piece
was not meant
for me.

notes… this is personal haiku for me, not the form but the feel and function of what I understand haiku to be, the staccato nature, a question and a truth, is that not haiku? and I literally wear my toki or my manaia daily… I connect to the sea faring way of the maori tradition, not by religion but by spirit if that makes sense… it does to me, at least.

so I went to a wedding tonight… (longread, semi rambling)

so I went to a wedding tonight… (longread, semi rambling)

man and woman kissing under sunset
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(1)
I must admit I had all this weird anxious energy today, anxiety over seeing family? I suppose, I could not explain it to myself and then after much self inspection I just let it go, this was not my wedding after all, and frankly it is only a cousin (whom I love and watched grow up quite literally so don’t get me wrong about relation), I like to pride myself on preparation, or I tell myself that, so as usual I was doing some last minute scrambling today, things I had planned.. but… eh… had not quote gotten to as of yet, so about an hour before I had to leave I decided to get my ducks in a row, being the semi strange artistic type (wrapped in the guise of everyday guy) I eschew greeting cards and write something personal regardless if it will be read or tossed for the cashola enclosed in the envelope, I have seen and attended enough affairs to see how the cards come in, and how many of the same thing pass through, I want to be memorable, for at least a slice of this life, so I give it a try, I can not hand write letters.. well, I CAN but my handwriting requires translation, it is horrendous to say the least, so I need to type things out, (and also this poem if you recall, part of my gift to the lucky couple as well as some mo-net), I do not use my home printer too often, so perhaps it might be lacking in TLC… or any C, but of course the thing starts with this grinding noise, I start to sweat and my temp is rising, I panic, I want to scream, something is wrong here… and I do not have time for this (the realization that this could have been avoided if I didn’t wait until the last minute is not yet a humorous thought to me as it is now writing this), I open every door, blow out the sensors with one of those air thrower can things, and nothing… DOA printer, I can’t just buy some dumb card… I just… can’t! I recall I have a another printer, sort of shoved in a corner like so much a wallflower, it should work, I think, I hope, I pray to the inkjet gods (they exist, their temple is Staples), so I hook the badboy up and plug in the USB cable with trepidation, the seas parted, the light of one thousand lights shone down, puppies cuddled with kittens, and magically, with great glee my printer queue was emptied and my ears were treated to the sweet whir whir of an inkjet head purring back and forth, ah, crisis averted, my words will be delivered and all will be right with the world (in truth I used fancy parchment looking/feeling paper to print my poem on and it jammed a few times, but that is quite a boring detail so I’ll exclude it), so, poem and personal note in hand (and cashier’s check) I was all set to go.

(2)
I had to drive my folks up to the gig, they are up there in the age race now and do not drive at night usually, and my mom does not drive at all anymore actually, no big deal, they have done enough for me over the years (hello diapers, they got me there for now) that Driving Mr and Mrs Daisy parents is the least I can do, as I said earlier I like to plan, I also like to not be a slave to GPS and know where the heck I am going, oy, I forgot the little address card for the place on the back of which I scribbled (in my pictogram handwriting) the directions, it is a pretty straight shoot but… there is comfort in the paper you wrote all this down on, no problem, cool, I got this, I memorized the directions (because I am such a head case), I just hope my memory is solid, as it turns out my memory served me well, I still must admit my self doubt in the whole thing, I would rather have the life vest when sailing the ocean, but… I’m not in the ocean and honestly I could pull over and google the damn place (easy to say now when I am out of non man non embarrassment mode), so we arrive, Valhalla Lake Club, never heard of it, never been, a really nice part of the state (you know, the Garden state, damnit), seriously we have some sections of Jersey that people would not believe, and heck I am a bad steward for my state for not knowing every inch and cranny, either way, no valet, we are waiting there, the minivan in front is doing all sorts of things, we can’t pass by on the driveway as it is too narrow, wtf are these people doing ? minutes seem like hours in these circumstances, plus I have no idea what the parking situation will be like, I start to get frustrated, minutes pass, thoughts run wild trying to figure out what the hell is going on with these people in front of me, thankfully no one is behind me, that would have upped the ante and I surely might have honked the horn, tick tock tick tock, wtf is taking so long? and then it hits, life with a lesson interjects, the minivan lowers like in a rap video, and a gentleman is escorted out in a wheel chair, if there ever was a court case for patience and a jury to convict, it was this, I was glad I relaxed the temptation to honk, I mean really, how was that ten minutes of my life real pressure? or even worth a worry for a second, I must remember that, lesson received good earth.

(3)
the rest was standard fare, not knowing where to stand, where to sit, the club members who were enjoying the day on the lake were out enjoying the day on the lake, it seemed odd, all these dressed up folks and on the periphery having a day at the beach (lake) as it were, granted they have probably seen this show before, clearly the place needs to do this as part of their business model and probably helps keep membership prices lower, at some point, some of the members seemed interested and some seemed non plussed, as did those at the wedding proper, I kind of enjoy the awkwardness in moments now, not personally, but observing same gives me some weird pleasure, seeing life interacting I suppose, weddings are strange now, growing up there was clear religious definition, this was more just celebration of the union outside of any religious overtones or circumstance, ‘readings’ by a couple of relatives, bad poetry (sorry, I am a critic), and some other well intention-ed stuff that sounded like children banging on pots and pans to this jaded literary ear, I admit I am a snob at times when it comes to that, I try to see and hear the every-man aspect of things, but I just can’t all the time, I am just not that, we are what we are, so readings aside there were vows, and stories by the ‘pastor’ (well, he is really a friend of the groom/bride chosen to reside on the moment), my cousin and her mate are truly in love, I have been to many weddings, I have seen love in many forms (some I would wish to un-see from the internet but this is not a time for that), they glowed when together, I will not lie and say it brought a tear to my eye, I could perceive it, I could feel it emanating from them, I know it because I had that once, when love is easy, and just there, like the warm sun in the morning, this is where logic fails me, and faith takes over, or hope, or both, I feel the dream again, was this supposed to be me at some point? was this my dream? I am lost in the moment, no need to video this, I am here in this, really experiencing the moment, and I feel happiness and joy for them.

(4)
the reception phase, the worst part, I kind of liked the mix of the cocktail hour, no set pieces, a few food options (excellent calamari by the way), the bar cleared out after fifteen minutes so I could grab an amstel, we are outside by a lake in the breeze, what can beat that? now we are inside, cozy place, cool lighting, is that really the dance floor? this makes me feel the most isolated, I do not like the music, the boom boom typical tunes are just not me anymore (or ever), they are antithetical to everything I enjoy, I used to be that floor devil ripping up the dance moves, but I have zero interest in that now, and I do not want to pretend anymore, I don’t want to pretend for anyone, I am not unhappy at all, I am taking it all in, I am truly happy for my kin but the whole wedding thing, this whole wedding thing, I have been there and back again, seen it, done it, seen it better, done it better, what’s the point? I am truly happy for my cousin, but in this microcosm I just don’t get the whole slavery to the same thing, the same wedding tropes, I get it, it is probably me, I would have been much happier if after the ceremony they said strip down and everyone jump in the lake, paddle-board, kayak, sit by the fire-pit and shoot the shit… that’s more real to me, does not make it right, and regrettably is not good for the older generation who we must venerate because we are soon them, but I yearn for something different, even if, even if… this was my dream at some point, so who am I to suggest what they should do, at some point that dream was mine, meet the girl of your dreams in college, date for nearly a decade, become husband and wife, have kids… it all sounds familiar and now so foreign to me, I had the girl, I had the life, and then it all crumbled, and here I am, enjoying filet mignon (rare) at my younger cousin’s wedding, where did things go wrong ? or did they at all? I imagined her here with me, sharing this with her, as I expected to share everything with her forever, but that is gone, and maybe that showed on my face, because it is certainly what is in my heart, but again, I am an optimistic person, a happy person, but the celebration tonight felt so foreign to me, I just felt like an alien among people I knew, even my brother who I thought looked like a buffoon, but he is engaged and has found a mate, so who is the fool.

(5)
I drove my folks home, interesting conversations when they are both tipsy but also not so much as they are losing their edge of mind. and this leads me to this, this post, all scrambled out right now write now…

wrote all this just now, first draft, I’ll revisit it tomorrow, but it is close to accurate…

because it reminded me of my last post…

because it reminded me of my last post…

birds flying over body of water during golden hour
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

love is on a flight, on wing
what is this feeling
I had known to forget
all in the sudden
all possible seems to reveal
and in my heart revel
’tis true!
hearths know their purpose
tend the fire still
even from the silence of neglect
the bricks reflect coals
dancing again
pulsing
in radiance
pulsing
in the rekindling
of spirit


notes: I wrote this back in March, altered a little bit tonight I must admit (wink), my mind works strange, thanks for all reads and eyes, I only hope to light a light because I am only here so long, and can encourage others to thrive!

is hope a candle, a star or the false light of human kind?

is hope a candle, a star or the false light of human kind?

candle with light
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(musical recommendation for reading)

even the universe shall have an end, hard to conceive of, I know, are we just the microcosm of what our science perceives, of course we all wish to expand our experience into infinity, the eternity of time, when all the while we know all things have an end, even this, maybe our concept of hope lies in the loop, of coming back around again, after all, matter is not created or destroyed, all matter that is going to exist exists now (as far as we know more or less), matter just gets repurposed like that half an oak barrel that is now a feature in my garden (ok, maybe not the most elegant example), but this combination of matter (me), this particular one wishes to persist even with the knowledge, the certainty that I am just a place holder for something other, how can I look hope in the eye with that and seek truth,

how or why can I harbor hope…
but somehow… but somehow…
…I do.


sky sunset red romantic
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music tonight… Tycho “Japan”, I will admit, I am a total fanboy but I think it is warranted and I have been touting his work for years, he works in multiple mediums not just music…  the one link on top is the vocal version, this is the “instrumental” version (modern instruments that is… electronic), I just dig it, it scratches all my itches.

thoughts, from the porch…

thoughts, from the porch…

architecture building daylight garden
Photo by Gary Spears on Pexels.com

(music to read by)

I listen for the distant cars, hoping they will turn down my street so I might know who they are, I stare out at the same view now as always, some might think it unremarkable, or what different things might I see in this common canvas, that I have not seen before, many times before, but I suppose that is the trick of the thing, the longer you look the more you are apt to reveal the nuances and subtleties you would not get on first glance or random chance.
I was out earlier than usual today-tonight, the robins are singing, not in unison, but individually like a one-up-man-ship contest (but in a cordial manner), much unlike the bickering they engage in when it comes to nightly quarters, the shadows of the leafs on my japanese maple are like dark diamonds dancing on my walkway, all because of the breeze, a little show for me or anyone who cared to pull up a chair to the attraction and pay a modicum of attention, pause the real world and just breathe for a second or twelve, so I sit, barefoot, as weather permits, a bumble bee does a fly by across my bridge like tom cruise, and I must admit I quite flinch and then grin at the ridiculousness of the situation, his only weapon is a suicide sting and I am this big bulky thing between him and pollen, his death blow would be mere inconvenience to me, certainly not a pleasant experience but certainly not worth the jumping apprehension I felt on first impression, it is good to catch yourself now and again, and examine your immediate reactions, the why behind that particular reflex…
a little ant is making a run at my big toe, I feel revulsion, surely it is a strange sensation as it works it’s way above my nail, but against initial instinct I do nothing, I have better things to worry about (I tell myself), of course I am not totally sold on being out of the moment, I can’t seem to forget the little traveler now on toe number two, I look down and upon my feet and wonder… how many miles do I have on these things? and looking further wonder how anyone could have a foot fetish, to each their own I guess, the sun is fading, the world is turning into silhouettes in the rising dark, a lone bird on a lone wire, leaves, trees, all 2D cut outs now, a slight breeze flows across and brings peaceful calm, as the world slows, as the world slips… into sleep (for those not nocturnal)

(this is part of my porch project, so be it, and thanks for the read, I do appreciate it)

a quote about heroes…

a quote about heroes…

city sky france flag
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“if all the heroes of the world should rise again…
there still would not be enough of them”

 

 

who wrote it ?  me. again this was not on purpose for memorial day but perhaps the muse thought it so…

music? one of my fave underrated bands comes to mind…

>>>>> Warrior Soul – Hero

they had a string of three albums that was mind blowing, they had big label support but for whatever reason they never broke big, they had a unique sound, unique front man, I’ll never understand why but those that loved them truly did, as usual comments and likes are appreciated, this is all my original content, this is me, some guy in new jersey, the garden state, who does… appreciate any and all eye balls, I am convinced there are people out there wired like me, I am certainly not mainstream, I gave that up a long time ago…

a prayer for the fallen…

a prayer for the fallen…

american back view burial cemetery
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“a prayer for the fallen,
for they shall not rise again
a moment for the forgotten
so we shall know their acts remain
to those who came before
to those with which we leave,
a prayer for the fallen,
with these words may you take heed
let now the world’s foundation
build inspiration from their deeds”


notes… I did not plan to write this, I wrote it a few days ago but it seems apt for Memorial Day.  I have no military in my family and in fact it seems discouraged (one day I will write a missive about that), what is more noble than sacrificing yourself for others to do nothing (or something) with their freedom? sure, is every soldier a pure soul ? no.  but there are those that are literally on the front line battling for our right to blog here on wordpress and other such trivial pursuits (as much as I think art is important, it is, without warriors would we even have the chance to express ourselves ?).  I know it is trite to say Freedom is not free… but it is not, I am in the debt of those that came before to give me a life where I can explore the world via my mind and my art, thank you, the unknown, the nameless, the creator (whatever that may be), every free breath is a gift… goddamn I have to remember this.. I have to motivate myself further… life matters… life matters…

A poem about… dedication? perhaps.

A poem about… dedication? perhaps.

empty corridor
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

guardian
am I an observer in your hall
a light
embedded in the wall
a light post
to light your way
around the corners
to banish shadows
so you might step confidently
forward and around
vigilant in my stay
my light always upon you
from my place of servitude
unnoticed, I bow to you
if only
to light your way forward
for you may be
on your way
in safe good light
my light
underfoot


notes… this can be taken a few ways, literal (as a light), a guardian angel, or also someone who works in the background for the betterment of someone else.  How you take it is your decision but I wanted to articulate all it meant to me when I wrote it today, in a fever dream, ok, when I was chilling out and listening to the classical station on my TV…

music… maybe my post makes more sense that I was listening to this… (and usually I hate operas)

La Bohemme – Pavarotti

optimism, the muse, and easter…

optimism, the muse, and easter…

backlit clouds dawn dusk
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

rise

the sun must rise again.
for belief is life in the blood
as loving hearts contend
this perpetual motion resists
against the gears of night,
for -the sun -must -rise.
to breathe life
into that good hope
the singular line of light
to spark in the stirring
of the being, of the living
for again,
the sun -must -rise,
comfort to the children of men
generations seek wisdom
the good will to bend
up against that death
for there within is strength
resident in that good light,
and the Sun. Shall. Rise. Again!


person holding blue ballpoint pen writing in notebook
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notes… I wrote this on saturday actually, it did not dawn (hah hah pun) on me until later that it could be taken in the context of Easter, this was not intentional, perhaps the muse felt she had to guide my hand, as I say often inspiration is a strange sensation, it feels like possession (in good way, not in a head spinning vomit way), this one wrote itself, this final version is barely edited from my original scribbling, one of those that you write an just immediately feel good about, which means I will probably get zero to three likes on it… lol, anyhoo, this was really (to me) about optimism, sure I could quote Annie “the sun will come out… tomorrow”, ok, that is pretty much the same sentiment, and I am not half as cute, or a ginger

crowd in front of people playing musical instrument during nighttime
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music, I make no bones about it, my favorite band ever is King’s X, a band that was ground breaking before anyone knew anything about anything, that’s all, in this PC world of today they would be heralded as lions and pioneers for so many reasons… enough preaching, here is a song of their first album from back in 1988… damn, I was 15… the vocals, the rock/metal edge, it made me pick up a guitar for the first time, and want to sing (which I most certainly can’t)…

King’s X – King

thoughts, comments, random gifts, Game of Thrones gear… it is all appreciated.. be well, smile… for no reason, just grin.