I can not remember all choirs of turns that lead to all, this
nothingness
I will rebuild, but something less
as this, has levied a toll
more than these words may address
notes… I am an optimist and realist both… so sometimes I need to reflect. I have made plenty of mistakes in my life, I hope to find happiness and also realize that the opportunities of youth are not there anymore, but yet there is hope, there is always hope, at least that is what I tell myself, I just hope that those I have wronged can forgive me, as I can not forgive myself. I try to believe that regret or the past does not matter. But the past is what is written, it is there, it is done, it can never not be… and that is what bothers me most. I know I can not change it… I can only change going forward, but it does not alleviate the past… and should it ?
1.6.2019 From the Porch (series) (I’m a little cold but it’s my fault for wearing shorts when taking out the garbage on sunday night edition)
I wish that I could truly transcribe how I see the night sky this evening, this was not a remarkable day, in any way or form, this was a day birthed in the shadows of a nasty storm, amazing to think how common storms are like common arguments, so fierce in the moment, unrelenting, encompassing all the landscape of the eyes, but they pass over and the common tongue returns to banal banter, that was today if I were to give it a name, some leftovers of bluster rustling the bamboo spires against a bedroom window (such an unmistakable rattling) – but back to my shortcomings, or maybe my lack of complete mastery of my craft (not for lack of practice), I suppose I should be content to compose with the tools I currently possess, not that which I have not mastered yet, so use the only lens I might, describe this most un-descript of nights, but in that exercise is where I shall, let me not fail to interject, to pause, to detect the wonder surround in even these so common of moments, so I paused –
(and took a deep long breath)
this night sky is a mix (not a mixed bag, not a mixed sack, just a combination of the usual customers), some stars that seem set behind a slow motion procession of wispy clouds, just slowly drifting by in sync and guided by some hidden hand, there is a calm to all this and the calm resonates inside (if you let it in), the silent cold, bare trees reaching upward like living statues grasping for something they know they can never attain (but do so stretch anyway), the winter has a way of revealing, the true essence of beings, all the lovely sequins and dressings of the other seasons fallen away, just bare bark, trunk and arms, save for the giant pine stoic, there still in full dress, another deep breath, as the clouds are truly to meander much that like a lazy river, flowing over carefully framed pockets of stars in still pools, in this I try to describe, this most usual of nightly sky.
Remember to pause, look and take it all in, the miracle of life – never ends.
I don’t know if this is a thing, and frankly I don’t care to google it… I call this observational poetry, meaning, I have a natural disposition to composition so… I might just want to describe a scene, is that not what some painter’s do with their brush? a landscape ? so here it goes…
12.17.2018 “sitting in a parking lot across from a building at night”
office building
a rectangle of squares
fifteen by three tall
the light is on in a corner
third floor
I wonder who is there
white car
two doors
is it theirs
some trees are black lines against the night
others bathed in false upright light
branches bright with no leaves to hide them
hover above patterns parallel parking lines
I can see the lobby
empty chairs
lights half on
all seems still
so calm
from the outside.
I back out of my spot
and move on
notes… been busy with life, when you work 6 days a week, every week art can be stifled, and also it is winter, and I am a bear in creative hibernation (actually I have a ton to get to but I can’t seem to get to it). I admit I have fear about running out of ideas, but I am actually hindered by not giving my ideas the time to germinate sometimes, usually I am on the spot and so damn immediate, but inspiration comes and goes, or perhaps my drive goes through throes, there is so much out there to inspire, even in this little space I occupy, here (and I try to remember that).
probably the best culmination of the “seattle” sound… I never loved Pearl Jam nor Soundgarden, but there was some real talent in that whole pool (Alice in Chains as well)… but this song… resonates, at least to me, and that is enough of an admission.
Thanks for all comments, follows, and corn bread recipes (although I would really like some deep cajun recipes).
I am perhaps worse than most, to actually like the confines of the yoke of comfort, much like egg yolk it is sunny, gooey and oh so comforting rolling like delicious lava all over the plate (and in that process infecting everything), but perhaps that plate needs to be swapped with a contemplate (or a quantum plate?), as I said I might be guiltier than most, the familiar is a familiar coat, every pocket worn, every corner turned, it is so easy to slip into the easy cave and slip on your slippers and slumber into oblivion, but life is finite, as is our choices, common things just feel great, I imagine that is our evolution, our protection, but we must use that thing that raised us out of the norm (intellect) and overcome those barriers of Darwinism.
All this because I ordered some Korean fusion food today. I saw an article online and a place was within a couple miles of my office. I have had tons of Korean food before (hello, Ft Lee is a few towns over) but I fell for comfort the world over. So maybe I won’t like a lunch one day, better to break the yoke/yolk and say…. I tried something different today.
Sometimes roads lead somewhere else, somewhere unexpected, GPS is not a human trait, and that, is a good thing.
and not to be droll but comments and thoughts are always appreciated, thanks!
As you might know I am a stargazer and a SETI aficionado so it influences my work often, and this would be one of those works, when I think of topics things just flow, it is just the way I write, I mean, cmon man how can you not look up there and wonder! ?
1.2.19 “constellation”
if I might be a constellation
once a nebula in contemplation
expanding outward toward the never
procession onward with the season’s lever
all from a man’s eye might notice the change
and map these stars with lighted frames
magical creatures and mystical charms
our imaginings drawn upon cosmic forms
our first attempt to travel there
even if only to see beyond
but imagine a world outside our own
light that travels at the speed of dawn
still yet older than our ancient spawn,
might I be a constellation
and favor back
plot the earth with mine own tack
and see a marble of brightest blue
tracking cross my nightly view
and report to all in time’s sake
stories, myths, and legend’s take
upon that which what we devise
a range of spectrum in these eyes
to pass down the rumination of stars
the engine of pure imagination – ours
Of course the ole tradition of making resolutions… much older than you might think in a blink, the early traces are back to Babylon (more of a right of honoring the harvest) but our tradition is most likely traced back to Janus (a two faced god… well, in a good way) whom could look back at the past year and into the new one (and sacrifices were made hence to ensure the year to come). But resolutions… like the breath of wind upon the prairie, gone in nary a second as the dreamy bubble of the holiday expires and we climb back into our normal star ship of life (and blast off forgetting). So, dispatch with resolutions. If you want something done in your life commit to a revolution. That is a plan of action in the place of words. The latin is “revolutio” quite literally meaning a turn around and if that is what you seek – seek revolution! If your tool is resolutions they will wind up as bits of fast food wrappers on the side of the highway of life in a few moments by. Revolution takes effort, planning, put through and then… more effort. Revolutions are never won and done, they are messy, they are looked back upon with gilded guides but in the moment – nothing glorified as such – but the end result is what matters most.
You want to make a change? Commit to a revolution in the scope of the next revolution of our planet around the sun, that new year, from this then old one. Not so far now we will already have come, the countdown begun has the first shot rung?
in a flowerpot
admire all the beauty
even in the dirt
(OK, I went the haiku way which I usually don’t but when it writes itself, what am I to do ?)
there is nothing new about this year, it is another day, another chance, the ritual has value (renewal if you hold it true), but time, time, the actual thing “time” could care less if you are in summer bliss or winter hiding, remember this. Take a breath, really, take a moment and (STOP) look at the most mundane of things and see the miracles residing there. All the things that conspired in the course of history just for you to read these words (and me to write them) is an amazingly insane concoction… is it all just random? maybe. maybe not. I do not propose to know what creates these things but they are there if you look, it may be all science, and that is fine by me, either way the amazing exists right under our noses, our everyday snouts, if we care to look.
A two-fer this morning, plus a poem, yours for only $19.95 in 192 installments! new and improved! just set it … and forget it! So sit back on your my pillow and if you spill something don’t worry about it, just sham wow it ! if you’re hungry just chop some nuts and if you want a relaxing boat ride I have just the solution… now, without further nonsense my entries to my actual collection…
reason for being 12.29.2018 in the AM walking out to my car for work
I noticed the flap of red overlap of a local newspaper plastic sleeve in my driveway bend up and over this morning in the breeze, if I was not there to witness who might be, so was this event just for me? a universe wink? something to ponder? or nothing at all (aside from a racing mind)? the immensity of what had to transpire in the universe (to this point) to just have this simple, seemingly meaningless moment of my notice is beyond calculation, barely in the grasp of comprehension and surely more complex than humanity may ever know, but there it was, a moment just for me to see in a world of all happening and motion, of lives starting, ending and being, of the earth spinning, the sun breathing radiation upon our goldilox home, the sheer perfection of the amalgamation of circumstance, in a blink and I move on, to the mundane spectacular that is this daily life. (but listen closely, for a moment, just a fraction I bet, time stopped and froze, for that pose my eye composed in just that very precious second in between all seconds, I did not chose this, it chose me, and in that exists the birth of miracles, if you stop to notice).
Photo by mali maeder on Pexels.com
winter flowers (driving to work)
not that today should be (or is) any different than the next (or previous), but decidedly I feel a different vibe going on, driving to work this morning the sky feels more alive, the winter sun’s emissaries bursting in lines out through the unmanned outposts of barren branches, casting long shadows across the road (right to left) showcasing cars upon the median wall in a procession of shadows like the projection of a carousel at night, the light adding a shimmer to the leftovers on the asphalt from yesterday’s never ending deluge, somehow things seem better, warmer, surely not in truth by empirical data (my usual cozy), but in feel, who am I to argue, but rather observe and revel, something about the winter sunlight beams as the earth’s pores broadcast open wide and soak them all in, the clouds all in place in one layer, sitting there aligned as a blueprint laid on top of the blue by a steady hand, many times I ponder that which is beyond this atmosphere, out there, but today… I am perfectly grounded within that laid out in front and behind, this morning drive, I can’t quite put my finger on it, but maybe that has been my problem sometimes, sometimes it is better to sit back and take it all in, smell the roses, even in winter when flowers are rarer but not unknown.
for winter flowers are rarer to see blooms on stark precious domain a lifeboat rises in the barren sea when all hope has left for none winter blooms in the faded sun
Never my favorite song (but other KX fans love it to death) but this video shows the devotion of the fans and what it is like to be at a show… the band does not even have to sing (have you been a part of anything like this? I have over the years, mostly Over My Head), by the way Dug is almost 70 (the lead singer), seriously, they have been killing it out there as one of the most original bands since the 1980s, here is the original version just for comparison. Ty Tabor is the reason I picked up a guitar (before Eric Johnson blew my mind, and SRV). Jerry ? A NJ guy so what can I say, I’m partial…
and as always, likes, follows and thoughts (comments) are always appreciated.
no, it is not some old school classic RPG (I loved the early ones on PC especially V), it is the next destination of the New Horizons probe (the craft is a pretty small thing, maybe the size of a piano traveling @ 32,000 miles per hour), Ultima Thule is located in the Kuiper Belt (think of it as our solar system’s leftovers after the really long wedding party), this knowledge is less than 100 years old in our dialog, amazing to think about, in the past 40 years we have moved out of interstellar space only recently (Voyager) and now are checking out the Kuiper Belt… and this is just our little neighborhood in this little solar system in this one galaxy in billions… there is literally endless possibilities out there… but we are all worried about the latest Iphone, silliness but I understand it, I would love to tell you I am above it, but I love all the little gadgets that distract me from being just a grain of sand on the grandest beach of all…
