there is no door
there is no key
but yet
I am the warden
of my own destiny
windows…
Foote’s Pond Park, Morristown NJ… sometimes a wordsmith can use pictures to invoke imagination… so… what words can I set on you that can encapsulate the beauty here? instead of just share the experience… (reminder: I park hop all over NJ (and NY/PA/CT) and post clips of the places on my Youtube channel for those interested)
musing on the shore…
only the vastness of the ocean can make us aware of even the taste of space, the magic of glittering water in fading sunlight, each wave curling around it’s own shadows into the break, a constant, steady heartbeat, the never ending rolling, the sound of what we can only master a piece of, infinity, just sitting here trying to inhale a memory, to breath in, take internally all the masterful ingredients of this intoxicating brew, if I might sample forever, or tickle infinity, or just cozy up with eternity for awhile, but alas, time does not allow me such luxury, or anyone for that matter, in that way we are all the same, a thousand years from now or ten thousand now behind, time, almost a stranger here but ever that hand on the shoulder, but dreams can cover over the sobriety of reality in this endeavor, so surely the sun does finally log off, ending my journey, as if I am the only one on earth at the moment, not a lonesome feeling, but the ever calming presence of the ocean, pulling and waving, breathing in my ear, speaking a language older than man, but somehow the ear adjusts and understands.
this is where I was while musing… the closest beach to my house, about 15 minutes, sure, it is not like the sugar sands of south Jersey, or maybe not that pristine (but recovering), shame on me for not going more often than I have in the past, the ocean is cleansing, it is a reminder of the vastness of the world (and beyond), our small part, and the tide is therapy… at least to me…
and so the summer sets…
I wish to enter my summer dance
but alas she has already departed for the ball
so I turn my intention, to the fall
a last bounty
a sun’s retreat
the leaves relief
the carpet
so yet the grass may sleep
silent siren
upon brash and darkest night
of tides roaring to the hum of all else;
I see the light
from the shore
in the depths
of her eyes
sparkling-
calling me home
in this storm
a whisper wisps of false hope
but these long salted years
have worn me down
so even if I broke
upon those rocks
the last thing I will see
before I drown
is the light
in her eyes.
(and I can lie peacefully now
at the bottom of the sea)
musing on that new old feeling
as a child, or young adult
I used to not know this undertow (so well)
this current current
but now the flow-
so familiar-
regardless of time spent elsewhere
on other shores
on other endeavors
looking to not remember
the truth of the universal
and how this brings up my soul
wraps my heart in hope
to sail this path once more
with another-
I wonder
always the toe dip to concur the temperature
so sure-
but never
to be sure
one must endeavor
once again
those waters
to see if they flow together
(for a time or forever)
for I hope for the latter?
until the never – I shall
until that golden ring
an ending and a beginning
to be bound
once found – again.
word play, am I punny to you ? what am I clown?
a sachet
not a hatchet
the difference is sharp
to a t
all the difference
from delicacy
to a headache
sun burn
I much prefer the subtle sun
rather
than the searing heat
of peak
summer-
steam,
shimmering up asphalt
from a sudden shower,
no, for me
seventy three degrees
is quite fine
enough
to warm the skin
to keep sweat within,
let me bathe
here
in this subtle sun.
lost love…
“when will you evaporate?”
I know… the question well,
I can tell, I can’t tell you, her
but.
the thought is there
I wonder if this thought will ever go
or evaporate
for decades now, haunted
in the same regret, the memories,
a book written I memorized by default
but her?
the erased years in the rear
but not for me
visited daily
god damn I hate myself
but yet I am myself the same
god damn I hate this memory, these memories,
my mistake, our mistake,
but I love these memories
to know the where I have been
the perfection of the time, that capsule, that time
the ease of companionship in that relationship
too easy, this seems impossible now
the now, where is she, I hope for her best
and one day to return to her
when this is all over.
(first and only draft, posted as I wrote it just now)
what happens when you screw up the best thing you ever had… and have never been able to get close to that again? I suppose we blaze on… but sometimes we are wrong… she is rarely from my thoughts… I wish things were different then… and more importantly now…
in the absence of time…
when we die, we are at the end of time
we exist in time when we lived
we existed, that is not something that can be erased
so, when death occurs we are taken out of the simulation
the chess game, if you will
we remain,
history is concrete
there is no denying what has existed
so therefore we are forever
however, my worry is consciousness
that I think is tied to current/active time as we perceive it when we are “alive”
but what happens to that perception when we are out of time…
Shades of My Garden 