notes… not sure how the school buses function where you are, here it seems to be pretty much the same since I was a wee lad, the ritual of parents escorting you to the corner to board onto the bus for the day, seems like forever a go, the memories came charging back so vividly when I was stuck behind a bus this morning (mesmerized by the rhythm of the lights). something that was so routine it was the routine, all we knew, gone after being there for so long, like everything else we get used to, life marches on.
Musical choice? I am in the need of some classical, so time to pull out an old fave…
the poem of course, is historically one of the greatest in history… all poets aspire to write such wall crumbling words, we need to internalize same and live our lives this way. Do I do it ? No.. I aspire to it. These are wonderful words and an amazing example of why word art matters. We must remember that art does matter but also the sentiment of truth anchors the best of art. The truth being that we have this little slice of time to be relevant, to be actually US, to be ourselves, we will blink and be gone… we only have this little time, instead of living many of us are wrapped up in nothing (myself included).. how do we escape this pattern and LIVE as free people, free from perception, allegation, the chains of oppression of society and the expectations of same. If you are expecting answers, I am sorry, I am seeking them as well.
Kind of totally off the wall metal band from back… well, back… some industrial elements, lots of cool time changes, totally offbeat, like me.. so, I dig it… sometimes I almost forget all the weirdness I have absorbed over theses years, and other times it oozes out of me like, well, I can’t think of a good metaphor right now, get back to me later.
Thoughts, comments and follows are as always… appreciated.
(putting on my sports blog hat….) How soon we forget. I am not saying people can not find forgiveness (that is a good thing) but the absolute fawning over Tiger Woods finally coming all the way back is a bit much for me. Does anyone remember what an A-1 scumbag this guy was ? The total fake clean guy image bought and sold by almost everyone… and it was all BS. It wasn’t like he was having some side piece with some little hot thing.. it was porn stars (who I don’t begrudge actually) and a ton of women across the spectrum. Look, I could care less where Tiger cares to stick his 9 iron (I am giving him the benefit of the doubt there), but he has kids.. and marriage, that was the line imo. The guy had it all and blew it for what? Get a divorce man! I don’t think he should be shunned or tarred/feathered (how cool would that be if we still did that, tangent) but … some hero to be exalted because he came back into a privileged (money) game ? It’s not like he was hurting for dough or dealing with cancer (or anything like a real life that 99.99% of the world’s population deals with)… I guess I am saying…just be honest… That’s all…
My porch series, tonight’s entry (and after that a bunch I forgot to post here, I think I posted them on Facebook, my bad… but just click on the porch series link to see them in order if you would like):
9/23/18 (porch series)
I thought it might be a clear night
but it is not
there are no stars
just a muddled shade of black mixed gray
the only light, artificial
from the light of my porch, behind me
usually under siege with moths
but not tonight, the fort is oddly quiet
the subtle chill is no longer on the breeze
as there is none this eve
the subtle chill has settled, into being, no need for a vehicle
time pushes the notch hand towards harvest
all the year’s resources spent
on a last bounty of the fall, before comes
as close as the world comes to death
the time as life bears down to hold
hold on, to dear life
wait out this coming cold reign.
and some will emerge, into the March
and others, will be lost, buried forever by the calming frost
swept under the sea of seasons
written into the ever revolving story,
maybe I should move back to a place
where the seasons are more
hot and blazing, less humid or raining
would I miss these reminders
these stage backdrops changing
the season’s play, performing, before me
brings both terror and inspiration
just cause to outlast the procession,
knowing one day the curtains will close (not just for intermission)
for all those, those who pay attention, or merely attendants
and, for me,
in which of these would I prefer to end?
as if I have some choice
but – if given a choice?
a blanket of snow, or the warm hand of august sun?
the miraculous burst of bloom or the flash of fire across autumn trees before the fall,
might I be a greedy soul
I wish for – all of these.
7.31.2018 (porch series)
a july breeze, warm and inviting
darkly clouds wavering, breaking – heading north
framed in against the tones of the setting sun
reflecting onto their cousins
illusion drawn on a cloud pallet
as the minutes draw the light, dimmer
I try to perceive the breeze, as an image
as it casually weaves through the leaves
all the life, in this little window frame
this tiny capture of my eyes
this valley of my perception
all struggles to survive
the trees, the flowers,
the mosquitoes having at my legs
I understand
but our minds, our mind’s reason
we know, like seasons – there is an end
to what end – ?
I do not know
I inhale the breeze
I absorb the gasp of the sun
to inform me
to give me answers, for I have none.
7.24.2018 (porch series)
the world is spinning, in complete control
clouds moving, sliding on, the lake the sky
while others seem still
but yet we are perpetual motion, unaware spinning
ever held, down, by gravity
this, our normality.
if I were to describe this to a stranger,
not of this place
they might think me mad, or just perhaps
of great imagination
a story teller for the ages
perhaps,
but these are our facts, we accept
we are born bound, by this, gravity
this force
feet firmly, on this ground
for so few of us, will ever know space
or anything that lies beyond.
6.3.18 (this was really the first one I wrote.. I think…)
sitting on my porch alone
neighbors all around
bustling in and out
of noisy cars and busy homes
sitting on my porch alone
listening to birds they sing
in foreign languages
foreign tongues, to me
a rabbit pays me no mind
a robin retreats
the wind bends and sweeps
sliding waves of leaves, calm
I want to leave, and go back
correct the mistakes, of my past
I sit on my porch alone
there are people inside
I surely know
all around
out here,
all alone
Did you really!? get this far ? If so you have my sincere thanks. I would ask you to follow me if you are so inclined and kind. Comments are always appreciated and critique is coveted above all, insults are cool too, any input is great, I am just running this thing off the cuff, a nut and his laptop… set loose on the world.
Music? well… I play guitar (not great) but I seek out those who do, and this cat? whoboy… he is just fire on the ocean imo…
Should be a bumper sticker on my car… I have a hard time believing how fast the weather has turned here, fall is in full flush, there are pockets of old humidity still trying to live it up like 20 year olds, but for sure the cooler breeze, the hint of winter is surely taking charge, and this too will be fleeting, soon we will have all that snow and sleeting (yech), all the things that make driving to work such a … ahem.. “pleasure”… but gladly I have a USB drive in the car and lots of tunes to tune out the world (hopefully). There is definite mental preparation/effort to stay grounded and happy when it takes a hour and a half to go 26 miles every morning, which makes me understand religious symbols that people wear (reminders in form)… I used to scoff at such things (I was one of those snarky atheists that thought religious people were too stupid for the room, how could they believe in the little man in the sky ruling over their lives?) I have since become more understanding, I certainly do not believe in the traditional form of god but also realize that I am just some average (ok, above average, wink) guy from the great state of New Jersey.. so what the hell do I know? God could be Jesus, God could be a cow in Wisconsin named Phil or God could be a piece of our DNA… who’s to say or judge ? I don’t have the answers so I can not put myself above anyone just because I do not see what they believe. Not sure why I swerved into that tangent, I tend to go where my mind goes, the muse steers and I try to hold on for this… dear life… with that said… here is some simpler ideas I wrote, like I have said before, they ain’t all masterpieces… more pieces of time, or captures of a thought… and that s how my art works, I try to be immediate and visceral – do I fail? yep. but hopefully something connects with you, the reader, and I thank you if you read any of this, it is a privilege to have a platform to share my little sense of identity for others to gawk at.
“love, unspoken” 4/29/18
my greatest sin, was to not speak the words
that spoke with, all I ever did
or so I thought.
forgive me, for I was wrong
forgive. this curse upon my soul
agony – the inescapable black hole gravity of
my love, for you
5/14/18
all that I see, will it cease to be
when I cease
to be
why god, this planet
this planet among all the cosmos
what most will I miss
the kiss of the one I love
a song
a face
the warmth of the sun
I wonder
6.2.18
I write this
in tribute to you
for what you gifted
to which I ruined
my eternal love
my eternal flame -dims
as we travel through the same
my eternal loss
lost.
but I remain, without, you
“ingredient” 6.27.2018
I am the spice, into
the recipe of life
mixed with yours
the culinary delight
of your soul.
music? how could I go this long without pushing the hartnoll brothers !
this album was… so transcendent… they were pioneers who do not get nearly the credit they should, electronic, drum n bass beats, amazing vocals (when they brought people in like this one)… if this song doesn’t make you groove, well… get out of my house because it will be hard to be on the same plain and explain to you how awesome this is…
Just trying something different, the origin was a few words and trying to be simple, and also honoring what I heard in my head (beat wise). so in my head I thought:
but I was also envisioning this happening as I drive (as most of us in the northeast USA do this time of year, especially november)… so I was not sure how to post it, I wrote it out originally as:
deer / cross / road / swerve
and I guess that works but it wasn’t totally sufficient to me, I can not draw to save my life, and my handwriting I refer to as “encrypted” because only I can read it, the lines seemed … to be missing something, so I wanted to amp it up with multimedia, ideally I wanted real paint brush strokes in between… that would work, but this is the best I could do with what I have in front of me. Just me trying something a little bit off my usual path, it just hit me there to go this way, as I say the muse is the muse and I go that way.
Revision 2am… I am looking at it now still not satisfied… I want it to read like:
the photo is from the intersection (well, slightly before it) of E 127th st and First Ave in NYC… OK, Anne Leibovitz I am not… but I thought it looked cool and throwing my phone up in an instant isn’t exactly my forte (or a good way to get a composed shot obviously)… but the double lights looked interesting and artsy, so you know, I went for it… But back to my original thought, again, I am always banging the drum we take things around for granted that are certainly strange or cool.. or whatever, one of those things is a park. I have always wanted to steal the sign of this park (as you pass it when you get onto the FDR north from many points in NYC)… well, the park is called (and I ain’t kidding)
now… I understand the sentiment as crack was a plague on inner cities in the 80s… but the execution of the sentiment is utterly amusing to me, and to put said slogan on an official looking park sign is just begging for theft (of same). There is no way some kid playing at crack park even knows what the hell crack is… this is a great example of how the current time (at the time) seems so damn important and permanent… but yet is so fleeting like the spring snow of dandelions blowing through in a window of weeks, and then gone, all life is like that, how do we reconcile that? I’m not sure, I am trying, my mind is grinding on it, to act in the now but also act for the then… we all have the strength within but man it is tiring, I think… especially wrapped up in our daily lives, work, family, love… where does it end? but it does. how do we fit it all in, the more important stuff?
“scattered” 6.3.18
I am ashes
I am shadow
collected dust
disturbed
by the slightest breeze,
I am fallow
a shadow,
wait, I realize
a shadow is caused by substance,
therefore
I must be
no longer
in fact
I am no more
I’m scattered
to the four.
music.. long form tonight folks. to say I am a gamer is sort of a weird thing, I grew up on original NES and arcade stuff, so… I still have all my original systems and love MAME… there is a band that actually plays the soundtracks of classics (I can argue THE classics) while someone plays them… so it hits all my nerd chords to a tee… retro gaming – check, geekdom – check, guitar – check…
Shades of My Garden 