I have conversations in my head with those who are surely dead grands aunts uncles, father the voices there are they recordings actual responses or my mind’s creation. I have conversations in my mind from those with which I’ve shared this time lovers soldiers formers and others in what seems like lifetimes ago not my own, somehow, sometimes this is just the past replayed, the reality, as it laid with my wisdom now screaming at the scene always knowing that is the frame of that happening that has happened long ago or yesterday still behind, of that today to wrap my mind, bend time with conversations played, in my head.
note: on my nightly walk in the neighborhood, I felt like my mind was a pantheon of past and present, talking to those gone (from this earth) and those gone (from my life)… and others still who I see daily… it is a strange thing, and like dreams, feels just as real…
I took a different route on my walking route tonight, and something unexpected happened, my hometown, Edison NJ, is (and the surrounding towns) one of the largest concentrations of Asian Indians in the country, this is not a new thing, it is something I grew up with so, it is daily life here (and yeah, I have better access to all types of fantastic Indian food than most of the country!)… anyway, the main drag here in town is almost like a Indian carnival at night, usually I just walk in my ‘hood around the blocks, tonight I ventured out onto said major drag (Oak Tree Road), something strange happened, as I walked from the depths of Livingston Acres (boy I am getting really local flavor wise here), I started walking towards what looks like an almost semi-carnival, the wind tonight was mellow, not cool, even sort of warm, but not the humid smack of the daytime so… even a hot wind was welcome, so, as I am walking toward the gaudy, almost Vegas like lights, a smell hits me like a veritable brick to the face, and that brick had a word on it… ‘deliciousness’, the waft of grilled food and exotic spices, but also the simple song of street food, the satisfying quick bite of fried anything or flame kissed meats doing the mambo with chilis, the whole spectacle of it reminded me of… the boardwalk. And when I say Boardwalk I mean one thing… Wildwood NJ. There are a lot of boardwalks in New Jersey.. but the one that is king, at least in my lifetime, is Wildwood. Atlantic City? No thanks, Seaside? Please… the memories of wandering around Moreys’ pier and the like, the really silly haunted castle, the tram car, it all came roaring back in my mind set off by almost similar circumstances, walking carefree on a summer night, the just enough breeze keep off just enough sweat to be bearable, your nose filled with a thousand delectable delights just a booth away (well, in this case store fronts), people bustling about, lots of cars whirring by, if Edison has a pulse, well, this is it, and somehow this transported me back to my times as kid, walking on the boardwalk taking it all in… how strange life is and circular – and unexpected that the human experiment comes to such common grounds.
now the question is do I want some Aloo Tikki or Funnel Cake? ?!?
for may I walk into the lion’s den- as a lion or with that mantle upon my shoulders to mask all fear eyes forward even as my heart beats between the ears (louder and louder, and louder still)
so even when- our own illustrious sun (the only one, we will ever know) rises red to collapse and die- the universe herself? still has yet, so far to go
in the garden of my making might I stroll and show you the paths the corners the highlights that which needs repair with comfort- with confidence- shall I move, to and fro not a care in this world as I expose my know for then I will truly know you as you, me and then I might find the eternal spring.
I often wonder, with eyes wandering, up into the sky, but I must confess such dreaming or such leering occurs mainly at night, for there is something so alluring to the night sky, the endless… …ness, and the endless possibilities, the light of a thousand, no, countless stars on shores far, and that light is only what I can see with these little periscopes I was born with, might I realign with my primitive self, around a fire of my own making, watching the embers dance into rise, twist-curling into the blackness dotted with life, to disappear, as if by magic, how those times are lost, I think, or think to much, should I shoulder back more into my remembrance, or want-to-be acquaintance to my ancestral self, somewhere in that DNA, lurking, sleeping, perhaps ignored even, a being, simply gazing up at the stars in wonder, has the magic of life died with such scientific circumstance? I think not but perhaps our gaze might shift a thought, can I fathom that light has to get on a bus to get to the next stop? such mundane things, or maybe light is just another path to sight as I survey it out, as I am seeing the twilight now, “now”… I chuckle a bit to myself now, in the knowing that the very starlight I delve to delight in is older than my self, or perhaps who knows? humanity itself… I suppose there is magic in that, time travel achieved in my own time by the bent of space, an illusion made concrete stone by scientific fact, or so I am told and read and was tested hence, no reason to doubt of course the courses, but a fairy’s wand might be a better professor instead, and by all accounts how would my life be bent, differently, as it were, if the magic of all things was once more restored as it were, just staring up art the sky with no answers but what eyes can only see, what the mind can conjure and conceive, am I projecting or is the universe projecting… on me?
(a rainbow made me ponder, for truly there is still magic at play in this realm, might I gather the dust carried from all corners)
yah… that is my actual photo from my car no less… for those that know Jersey… I say what exit to you rainbow!
(1) so many years (pause) and i still think of you I should have been more selfish then- realized then, not now hindsight is a lens a curse, a gift, fire to burn it all down to the soul god- I miss you nothing- since has been you nothing- close (and I apologize to those) so I wonder how it has been for you when I feel like the murderer standing over the body, the right decision has always felt wrong so I wonder then what has become our future now that is has become none; but let you know never a day passes that you are not in my thoughts, and those thoughts are love.
(2) to you (my love): for our paths to cross once more once again as meant to be like the first go round hopefully beyond this world in another some where other where the house we live in is our own, no one else no outside world to know only each other in each other’s arms, as one as in those moments we had- that is heaven, my love for I will wait for you there.
on the old sea wall… standing in the light rain bait fish shimmer the surface gulls dive in to catch their prey alone I witness, all this not another, in long sights the tell tale signs- concrete, battered barrier wood some lush green sea-grass revealed from the tide out at sea from home even with all the metal and asphalt miles of paven path in both directions long I feel more surrounded and humbled by the mother here knowing, all this is a temporary dream as wonderous as this may be, this rampart.
in my travels I endeavor to find little nooks of peace in this crazy loud mixed up wonderful world… sometimes this succeeds even beyond my expectations, a lone stretch of sea wall, not another person around, no sounds but birds and the surf, the occasional plane of course, this is New Jersey… but a light rain seems to have broken all comers but yet the sunset of light purples and pinks hints off in the distance.. yeah, I would say this was worth it. (for videos of my various excursions please check out my Youtube station, thanks for reading and spending some time here).
as the crow a spy or just a curious fellow a thief or an enterprise
so… I am trying inflection here… something I play with time to time, not sure if it is an actual thing or something that actually works… so hear me out (in your head voice as that is what is reading this)… the first line is meant to invoke “as the crow flies” but I leave out the “flies” and add the rhyme to infer the previous line which is not there… trying to trick your brain, I can’t recall if I ever explained this to folks. and like most of my works this was off the cuff, my mind thinks like that in the moment, it is a musical/rhythm thing I suppose… perhaps I am being too verbose? nah, that’s my deal, I just write, if passer bys dig the flyers on my wall, yay! if not.. well, have a good travel my friend…
Shades of My Garden 