night fishing, sunday
might catch a bear, a scorpion
or a pair of twins
cast a net on a nebula
for minnows are comets
to use for bait
to lure a moon or two
or throw a hook into the cold outreach
hope to snag a neptune
a pluto, an exo-planet or two
or lose a line
the hook
the bait
in an event horizon
notes… file this under whimsy, just one of those silly things that catches me at the moment (I wrote this originally on 5.6, edited tonight), part of the inspiration for this is a work by one of my absolute favorite artists… this…
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!
yes, see, the world has awoken the bounty of spring has now been open life leaps forward sky and ground for the trees are fullest now full now within the grand display however within lies a great irony they cast more shadow now than on any winter day
I wrote this other night when I was writing this post, I am little behind in my work (posting things that is) because last night I got home after 3am from my real world work, something like an 18 hour day top to bottom, not a complaint, just a statement of fact, I wonder how many of you have jobs that require these overnight hours (no diss to you parents out there, I get it, not comparing), it is a strange existence, things are surreal, driving back and forth from the Poconos during a crazy rainstorm, fog and downpours of epic proportions, dodging 18 wheelers on route 80 screaming by in the night kicking up temporary tempests of road rain, windshield wipers from zero to 60 and back again, driving out there seems like there is no civilization and then… boom, you pass the Delaware Water Gap (literally like passing through a gap, you see the river and both sides, kind of like a crotch) and then, then there is … life, towns, seemingly created on the fly out of nowhere, a relief, and then the after, driving back, the sheer stark darkness out there, the narrow corridor that is route 80 and 202 (I think) out there, isolating, trying to concentrate and make sure you see your lanes, coffee as a copilot or a hope, following the lanes, the reflectors, trying to read the minds of the other drivers and their endeavors, speeding up when deemed, moving over when demons race at inexorable speed, but in the end, I made it home, and sam (the dog) was waiting, something about a dog just wanting to go outside made it all worth it, she has no idea what I go through in a day, she is just there, just the same, so I gave her an extra treat… don’t tell anyone…
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.
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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.
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)
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the thought: while driving the other day, looking at the usual things I see on the nj turnpike as my mind wandered that maybe there is messages hidden in the mundane (5.9)…
I try to find understanding in the patterns of rust on the guard rails the secret meanings in the formations of the grassy stalks pioneers in concrete canyons discern the words in the cracks of the median I search them all for meaning
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the thought: certain month’s mean a certain thing to us, depending on where we are quite literally, sometimes we forget that, and I was thinking about that (5.15)
I would like to know the flavor of May across the continents across all lands across the seas before the dominion of man so I might gain perspective and become sage for at least in this this month of May
so funny, I just wanted to post a /A> tag as I was typing the link… I will let the real old school geeks figure that one out, needless to say I still know GOSUB, and my DOS commands… crazy the way the mind works and the world moves on…
Today was the type of day you would want to be in New York City, the city is many things at many times but just sometimes, and rarely… near perfect (well as far as a city can get), I had to open a store @ 7am on West End Avenue, not my thing, the whole early morning thing, waking up at 5:30am is a hideous assignment for me, but I knew there was a Starbucks just a block from the store, so personal fuel was assured, worked my first shift (I won’t bore you with the details but if you live in the area it is really nice supermarket), anyhoo… left the store around 1pm this afternoon, just under 80 degrees and the city dwellers seemed to be flexing their new summer wings, winter, while not harsh was long, and rain has reigned as of late, so something had to give, and the city bursts forth on days like this, before they become mundane or the norm that is, when I can I choose to drive on riverside drive (riverside park spans most of the west side of Manhattan), I highly recommend it if you are ever driving in the city, especially on a balmy semi-summer day like today, you can roll down the window and enjoy the sights and sounds, there are lots of people to gawk at, um… I mean ‘observe’, the trees lining the road, various foliage among managed gardens, Grant’s Tomb, the river and all manner of boats on said river, and those iconic open top tour buses… all are far better window dressing than some random tall nondescript buildings when you are stuck in traffic anyway, at least to this traveler.
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I happen to be a dog person, if you are not I order you to vacate this blog post haste, or at least lie to me and tell me you love dogs, if you renounce your anti-dog blasphemy you may read forward, this time at least, anyway… I started to look at the various dogs, all shapes and sizes, and I noticed they were attached to humans of all shapes, sizes, colors and orientations, I could not find a pattern, I thought I might (my mind tends to work in that direction), but there was (surprisingly) sheer randomness in the dog-park kingdom in terms of human/dog pairing, big burly dudes with little foo-foo dogs (like say a Pomeranian) and quaint little waifs with large mutts (a Rottweiler for example), there was every shape and variety imaginable all routing around in this tiny (by comparison) city park space, there was no dog assigned to various colored humans, or a dog that seemed more apt to any gender whatsoever (or one that seemed concerned of same), the general purity of the human-dog relationship kind of struck me there, and maybe also a quick punch to my own expectations… dogs see people, people see all the rest.
notes… all thoughts, questions, inquiries, oddball requests, and recipes to temper habaneros are appreciated… oh yeah, and likes/follows, that seems to be a thing, I heard…
I am going to be my strange self here… usually I do not (rarely) “work” on a poem, it flows or it does not, when I used to try and do that I felt “out of the moment”, not a lecture on how things should be, just more a reflection of who I am and how I write, you? do your thing, your way, you’ll know it when you find it, and then lose it, question yourself, time will pass and you will come upon that familiar carved wood box, open it, and find yourself, once again, have a little faith, if you love to write (or insert other creative art here), the love will find you… tangent aside, whew, here is tonight’s entry, something I wrote for my cousin who is engaging in the union we call marriage, I don’t always like to give poems as gifts (and I am also giving cash, c’mon now folks I am not that guy), but sometimes the muse taps me on then shoulder and says “dude, let me get you started, you do the rest”… and so it began, this particular exercise, this expression of art… in two parts, I am posting the original as I wrote it verbatim, and then my re-worked version, thoughts and preferences would be appreciated in this circumstance, thanks (I have a few days before I have to wrap this up).
first draft: for on the morrow you shall wake and shall you now be bound by more than words beyond a vow conjoined rings are merely a reminder to remember the moments forever after as you look into each other’s eyes and know how you have arrived here for marriage is just a word the foundation with which to return to is love beyond ceremony, beyond celebration in everyday life, honor with veneration the very reason for being in this union at all for let it guide you for years now till old your love.
final (?) draft: on the morrow you both shall wake and gaze warmly into each other’s eyes now, as husband and wife in that moment you will know you are inextricably bound to each other not by words, not by vows nor twin rings on fingers crowned for these are just the reminders for the true foundation of your house is – your love.
remember this, above all else.
notes… Feel free to borrow this one in lieu of a non thought out card (besides have you seen the prices of those things lately !? for a damn card ?!)… just lob me some credit if you do use it, thanks.
5.14.2019 the terrors of the night they come for me night after night they come for me but yet, I survive so do they even exist anywhere but my mind
5.15.2019 I shadowbox at night admittedly not quite the fair fight but my desire to win has become- addiction
notes… I call these thought poems because, well, I felt like it, damn, that does not seem like a valid reason, hold on… (pacing), I think these are like haiku in intent, meaning to deliver a feeling or a thesis where not all my poetry endeavors to do (man that sounds so much better), sometimes I am just a distiller trying to distill, because that is what distillers do silly. I must be daffy, it is one of those weeks, work is bonkers nuts and my home laptop SSD drive is dying/dead, I had to take the thing apart tonight to recede the drive, my crazy insane dork laptop crippled by a SSD… hah… ah, life is ironic.
this will always be my beach/ocean song, I was in the keys when it came out just watching the aqua blue waves roll in with thunderstorm clouds spotted and rattling in the distance, I can not describe how surreal it was, sitting there, my feet dangling off the dock into the warm waters of the gulf stream, translucent glistening surf in moonlight, lapping waves, cracking thunder, palm shadows… and this tune…
I should be inspired by the shoots of grass in the cracks of the sidewalk
Fired up my Haiku-inator 3000 (c), this is the model that can cut an aluminum soda can in half for no apparent logical reason, it can also fry 40 pounds of food without oil, it can chop nuts like nobody’s business, but mostly, just mostly it transforms mundane every day american poetry into haiku, so I browse the instructions (I mean how difficult could it really be, plus I never read the instructions on anything anyway), ok, fold in half, place in tray, press the ‘presto‘ button (I can’t believe the manufacturer is implying there is actual magic involved… oh the hubris), so anyway with some beeps and whirs… and this weird non chromatic clicking, almost like a vending machine vending, out came this…
an inspiration shoots of grass in the sidewalk life will find a way
I still have 3 more payments of $9.95 on the thing (I think, I have to check my statement), it is warrantied of course (again, for how long I have no idea), the my pillow guy said I should keep it though, sounds legit…
…if you missed the link I am repeating it, tonight’s musical suggestion that is…
one of those bands that is a like em or not band, I get it, geddy is a bit nasal, they are a bit prog rock, but I guess that is what makes the world go round (well, that and the actual laws of the universe but let’s not get into that right now…)
and I would be remiss if I did not say thanks, for the eyes and the time, all thoughts and such are appreciated, bricks through my car window… not so much.
Shades of My Garden 