how towers crumble but how we taunt the moon or to touch down on mars no. no. not so soon does one need to fly up to the sun directly to be the peril’s fool?
even the sphinx slumbers blanketed in sand a volcano’s slight rumble buries lands or rises up in paradise-platforms for pineapples and a hula dance alas-
here we are, globally connected and yet far-miles apart- by some measures taught, all the while- we only know what we know- certainties we glean from antiquity but with no TV screen to turn up a thumb or down, we switch the channel
only as smart, as the next start of a day, a decade, a generation looking back with the glass of current indignation will the future be- instant thought transmission? I’ll never know
and still then the limit is not imagination but this finite evolution, of humanity, in the speck of time we have.
yes, this goes out to the one I love… how much simpler can I get.. how much can implore you not to be me… my regret is, I am a romantic moron, a purist… an absolutist… I hate myself for it but how do you break the chains of your own construct? fuck me… I am 50 and still harbor utterly stupid insecurities… guilty… I wish there was a guide for this, I would think there should be by now… why has it taken me so long to not give a shit about … well, anything, especially since my life is closer to death than it is life… and perhaps kids… it is the type of thing that can drive you nuts about life… just venting I guess, who cares what I post, probably no one, but if it resonates with anyone… I am cool with that, that was always the point of this space, me being me, today, well, tonight I am just lost, not in a bad way, like suicide… which I have considered so many times over the years in theory only… but I never came close to action, I understand it… in some ways… like we all die, so why wait… or total pain, but maybe I am afraid of that as well… or both circumstances… I don’t know, in 1000 years my words will be lost and nothing anyway, but I say hold on to life as long as you can… because we have nothing else to hold onto and nothing else we can know or have known… damn it is a lot to contemplate… and I do… and it bothers me… I am alone. and I dont mind it, but I regress to the time I was with her… even now, but I am so wired different, I used to think there was something wrong with me… no. I am me… we are all wired different and that is why we need these spaces and talk to each other… nothing has changed in the digital age… be with people and talk to people, that connection can never be replaced… now you have more people to communicate with… do it with love in your heart.
seek not the righteous path for there is no map your inner compass will point the way so- listen your feet will follow
sometimes it best, to sit near a window, observe the snow, listen to the quiet as flakes fall, with a warm cup of joe… and just be… let things come to you in the calm.
might I send out an army- to rescue you. if I only had the resource- beyond just my love,. my love.- a net to catch you on the fall a web knitted from the silk of my soul but I have no control- over you
that scent- of a quasi burnt everything bagel is quite- intoxicating I am not sure of the pure- definition of the sensation perhaps just the bits of garlic or are they onion? back to work- the morning after a holiday
Thanksgiving was interesting… My mother hosted Thanksgiving for years upon years when I was a kid, a literal houseful of people (usually around 30 or so) and she did almost all the cooking (some people brought sides but the mains, nah, all my mom), which somehow made my dad (RIP) pissed off that other family never did these holiday things (oy, family politics that you find out about later, even though all the signs were there when you were a kid – and how those little tremors reverb through life, and you find out later – and were like “duh”… so obvious but not to you). I was so used to the huge ‘all family’ (well, half family, it was my mom’s side almost always). Thanksgiving. It was very much the old school thing, the dudes (men) would all wind up in the den watching the 4pm NFL game barely staying awake and having all the man talk about football and sports and football and… more football)…. the women in the other room, talking about, well, I have no idea, I was in the dude room but there was always coffee. The little ones, like energy bombs, impacting both rooms with joy, happiness, chaos, those little immediate flare ups (“such and such hit me!!!” etc.). Things have varied through the years since… since many things, people move away, people move to well – you know, that place, family politics push and pull… This year, my cousin had a bunch of us over again (even with some burdens in her life – her husband has a debilitating disease), which was really great, I brought my Mom who is now on the eldest end of the life conveyor belt… I often think of life like that (a conveyor belt)… and it is strange for me to be nearer to the end of that belt than toward the beginning – but – better that than the alternative – some people never get to this point. But I guess this is like the Thanksgiving day parade we all go through. I did sit back today and just watch a ton (I felt a bit detached at times)… seeing my younger cousins who I used to love watch running around being total rugrats… so now, to see them, with their kids… little mobile units that need bumpers and buffers, running trucks under tables and people’s feet with no cares, others, a little younger, bringing the current boyfriend, who was a good dude, who seemed smart enough to know he was being measured up (even if mildly, can’t be an easy spot – but what those kids don’t realize, if they are good enough to make those we love happy – we usually like ’em), seeing the generation just ahead of me, that used to seem so much older, they seem so much closer to myself somehow, in age these days, decades- seem to shrink as you get older… I used to love the gorging… the eating.. the food (I am not a sides guy, give me 5 lbs of turkey – white meat!!)… still do, not today, I ate, but not much, enough, but just being there eclipsed the meal portion, watching all this “life” in the ‘wild’ of domestic bliss… regardless of anything going on in the backgrounds of our lives… this coming together survives and teaches… these type of rare days are like a crucible of what can be…
the sound of the 10pm piano calls- not quite midnight my dear not quite tomorrow my sweet so, have another drink no rush to dawn no hush to sleep forget all your ills for at least one more song
I wonder aloud- if this moon is ours, alone. this night- just for you ;us, (you correct me with your eyes, as you are known to do) looking on, with a shared looking glass of love, a concave canopy bends our perception (above) ah- sweet fools or old souls, now grown old just a beam of that light is this ours alone? tonight and only ours- my love I love you.
the insolence of youth- perhaps Icarus should not have flown in June if only perhaps a hemisphere might lessen the fall for us all, even from the depths of Orpheus’ song another young fool who flew too soon but I only know this of my distance from youth.
her name- for ramparts fold no matter time or mortar an open portal guilt, I can hold regret, I can hold but absence has no answer no comfort no quarter I suppose until that end. I pray she is at that door for one more, conversation.
it is love that holds it all together people… so much else melts away when you embrace that… the trick is staying in the room, and I have surely not mastered that, even after all these years… but the goal is a good one to go for…
Shades of My Garden 