(just looking off into the distance last night, this popped into my head)
with the sun sinking behind the leaning closing clouds
dead lawns
dead trees
in this reverse dawn so dawned upon me
and a smile immediately followed as happens
when a vessel is filled with the light of truth
“hope, over desolation”
the temperature has risen just enough to allow a brief pause, seems like many moons between these pauses, but such is the nature of winter, even a mild one such as this, sitting here on my porch, eyes closed just listening to the world breath, the interaction of the natural and humanity, to some a cacophony, but I am searching for the melody, even if there is none, equilibrium is better served when being sought, what kind of car whistles like that? on speeds by a late model expedition, I suppose quite leaky in some arrangement or something is surely out of alignment, I am sure a mechanic would interpret the audio far different than I but such are things that we wrap ourselves familiar, the breeze is slight but still carries what is left of the bite of winter, not enough to chill the bones, or even stir me from this spot of repose, my breath seems like fog, seeping out as I exhale, almost like I can see the life drawing out of me in breath, this is not the same as breathing out into a stark cold night, this is something different, almost transparent, translucent, more apparition or hallucination, light smoke, as if I am steaming out into the universe in some way, not at all disconcerting, just, happening, like sitting back and watching myself through time, admiring, wondering, questioning, how little things change in my little slice, the pace of life remains, but the change is subtle, so much so you awake one day to find yourself, here, and now, and can not quite believe it, or grip it, or fathom the amount of hours and seconds all in the bye, this is truly an amazing place, for all faults given, yes, amazing is not perfection nor ever shall, this is truly nothing more than the ride we are given.
for those unfamiliar (shame on you) this is an ongoing series, as ongoing a series as me, as long as I don’t get canceled which I most certainly will be one day, this is not that day, and suffice it to say I appreciate all comments, thoughts, questions and other such, this i just me yelling in the wind, some like it, my neighbors, probably not so much, but that is life, me on a beach fighting the tide, alone but surrounded by the souls of everyone, life is a strange thing.
at the once, the doorway, that first burst of light of the birth of the universe, the genesis of all galaxies and stars, the spark of all life as we know and will never, at that moment, through that needles eye of all existence so began a formation of a plan, a line forward, of all the equations, matter, laws, possibilities, variables, so it all began, a never ending single path, a destiny, an eventuality, the immense density and vastness of all the ever being, on a track, to coalesce into the most unlikely of forms in the now… you, and so you are, here, as you truly are, all of time and existence of the entire of everything has intersected into such perfection, such an unimaginable union, YOU, and so this brief miracle will exist through time, this time, and then shall be disassembled and dispersed, like all matter, into the corners of the universe, perhaps back down to a single point once more, so the cycle can renew again, as all things do, as far as we can tell, from our little view, our small glimpse, our small fraction of a memory, important enough to exist, have existed for all the universe saw fit to create, you.
his eyes follow her form
across the room
as she moved
my eyes
my eyes follow her from
from and to
my thoughts rampant
like wildfire
fueled by desire, fantasy
the idle mind rages in the cauldron of imagination
lurid possibilities
drowning in insinuation
her curves
to meet my hands
her mouth
to meet my lips
the sensation
that first kiss
obsession
fevered bliss
notes… so sometimes you look at someone at distance, wondering, fantasizing, living out all the possibilities in your mind in an instant, watching them stride, you imagine your life together in that moment you create a story, a movie and sensations…
I was driving to the local super market type place, right past the mall, and I will be damned, probably am, that the sucker’s parking lot is full, I don’t understand, to me these are like dinosaur bones propped up in a museum hall to be gawked at, well, apparently I am wrong, Jersey is a bastion of malls, apparently, to me they just remind me of the past, days gone by in another life, sort of the internet before there ever was one, one giant complex you could walk into and find everything you could possibly imagine, clothing, sure, that was always the first corridor and all the gateways, but then the big open space in the middle, shoes, electronics, the music store (remember those?), food, pottery and cookware, and inevitably a thousand more clothing places, pane windows filled with reflections of all the wide eyed consumer faces, spaces laced with escalators, little vendor carts with baubles, custom t shirts or hats, cheap jewelry, mobile massage parlors of sorts with water somehow, sometimes there would be a car on display, yes, very much like the internet, no Ebay, and then of course, the crowning jewel, the creme de la creme for me, the arcade, the shining city in the sky, the arcade, home game systems at the time just could not shine and mesmerize in those days like the live ones, Atari Tank against sit down Afterburner II? not even a contest my friend, the coin etiquette, placing that coin up on the ledge in line, pledging your intent, planting your flag as it were, “I’m next”, this quarter says so, and that was the law of the land, a true sugar rush as quarters or tokens hemorrhaged out of your grasp, Gauntlet? I probably paid off the programmers mortgage… TMNT 4 player, The Simpsons one too, learning all the tricks to trick the change machine, photocopied bills, bills with fishing lines attached, not saying I did those things, I just ‘heard’ about them, ahem, let’s move on… all before the internet, this was the gathering place we had, as strangers, the mall, so distant that all seems ago, I still can’t believe it is here, flanked by chain restaurants like guardhouses, also packed this eve, Olive Garden? with all the amazing or just above average Italian places in every nook and cranny, around every other corner, this is not the Olive Garden state people! I guess never ending pasta bowls are a panacea for ills, or just a place so generic it covers all the wills from the grumpy old to the fidgety new… back to the mall, I thought retail was dead, Jersey didn’t get the memo apparently, I honestly can not remember the last time I stepped into this place… but like many things my experience does not the truth make…
panic is like a little voice standing on the shoulders of worry, shouting, in a tiny voice but in a vast empty room filled with boom and echoes, spreading rumors, and birthing life to innuendos, your rational self whispers rational thoughts in a calming matter, no matter, that other voice shatters even the best firewall, at least in drips and drabs, and sometimes waterfalls, the dyke breaks and floods commence, all the while we hope for the best and know for the best that most of the worst will not commence, but for that certain uncertainty unleashed, growing, multiplying, hard to see or count those masses massing in shadow, panic does not thrive in light, dwelling and swelling in the comforts of night, undermine, underfoot, under your breath the words, take flight, but to where? is there a safe space, somewhere, no, shelter in place, any place, as safe as can be which seems like a threat space now, but how? just days ago things were peach, not a worry in the sky, not a cloud, now this breach, this worry, this agent of chaos raging, throbbing, pulsing beyond control, we will to shut it out but our only option now, wait it out…
a mist of rain, a touch of rain, a slap of rain, occasional buckets even, plain misery plastered across the sky, my eyes filled with blanket gray, the rain can not even find the courtesy of an even tempo to match my wipers, the constant refrain (back and forth) and adjustment to meet the spray or drench, nothing in between this day, traffic, somehow rain melts brains or at least that is what my history tells me, and that day is today, red and blue flashing lights call attention to the shoulder, drastic go no where spastic lane changes ratchet up the morning tension, all in a hateful dance, jockeys trade for position, I can feel the sum dragging me down, pulling on me with the weight of one thousand times gravity into a grinding stone, the lack of coffee infusion is not helping either, but wait, a novelty, what if it is just me? am I simply allowing myself (lazy self) to drown in this morass of outward molasses? is my predicament really so dour and helpless? or am I letting myself set sail adrift in this madness?
a calm realization slips over my countenance… like sinking surrender into a soft comforter at the end of a long day…
how many hours have my limbs bathed and baked in the sun, taking in the warmth of the giving orb down to my bones, and perhaps even slipping into my soul, I decide to not be up that creek with no paddle, for certainly this is not a creek, and I need no paddle, probably just better analogies, but either way I stick my foot in the ground (so to say) and pick another route towards the fray, all that light, if memory serves right, I can feel it now, coming up to the surface from the remembrance layers below, beaming out from my epidermis a burgeoning glow, if I can absorb the light therefore I can radiate same out, in my mind’s eye I emit a subtle glow, growing, like young confidence zooming down the street without training wheels for the first time, I imagine being a source of light, a lantern, a beacon, for the outside world can not always control my experience, today, I choose this! to be light!
so behold, that bright marble, a miracle, just another globe in a pantheon of globes in a universe of spinning discs of light, glass encased perfectly situated ball locked in an invisible dance, trance, with a sun and her children spawn, in the outer regions of one tendril of a galaxy’s arm, all racing along a hidden path with purpose, the macro, from afar, a small blue dot winks on the horizon of the heliosphere, and zoomed in closer reveals, an ant colony scrambling about with seeming importance, unaware of perspective, distances so great that they can not be measured nor traveled yet we bustle about, about this marvel of a marble, and from the down here we look out, with our clever inventions and intentions, our human projections, so slight cast out into that great expanse, the art, the gallery of god, strewn across a canvas so massive we will never see the whole cloth, or even the fabric onto which this vision is projected, the strings, imperceptible stitches, the concepts, all tie time together and flow, we can not be alone, for just the ornaments on this holiday tree alone must have some sliver of this gift, this life, so many forms travel on just this little darling of a marvel, this fascinating rolling marble, suspended by magical natural forces, we take them all for granted as they blanket us in wonder, whether designed or natural happenings, the definitions of impossible are quite shattered by our mere presence, there must be more out there, if even we have not seen all the flavors on our own planet, the depths, the dark, the corners un-found or lost for generations, drowned in magma, locked in miles of ice unseen, how much has been before and how much more to come, we are but a footnote in the grand procession, the thrust, the flow, the river of life as branches, arms, reaching in every direction, even to dead ends and new beginnings, life carves through this valley forever changing the landscape as we ballroom dance swing around mother sun, destructive nuclear fire, that yet brings life and desire, our desire, to thrive, inhabit, love, all on this, the blue, marvel marble, floating endlessly in the sky, in space, a womb of the most precious thing of all, life.
“my mind can venture where my body can not”
stopping to listen to
the birds chatter
watching a car drive by
wondering how many more times
will I hear them
when I’m gone
to contemplate the patterns of branches
and the conversations of leaves
to figure only
even my own being,
so I listen, so I watch
notes: observational poetry, something I do, I pause often now just to look at the trees, or if there is water, water, there is just something about water that draws me, a lake, a pond, the ocean biggest of all, but nature, the core, we are tied in to it all, we all feel it but not always…. in our busy days, with our busy lives filled with things that have no real meaning… I am no different, I am caught in the same revision but it is just that, a distraction from what matters, if anything matters, structures, social structures, determine so many lives but that is the way it was and will ever be, and then all that out beyond ourselves, the sky, beyond, there is so much out there outside our snow globe…
in this house of seven gables
my crown
I wear
three pair one
from these windows, these portals
there stares
the observer, the owner, the visitor
contemplating the street
the sun, the trees
sidewalks buckled under root
curbs so artfully formed
like molded cliffs
assessing the neighbors
all locked behind doors
dwellers in dwellings
seeking more
but just that fatal one step
one move
the other side, of that front door
to leave the confines
into only what was seen and filtered
not heard, tasted or felt
from within these membranes
these walls
that contain, and protect
one specific flavor
one specific intellect
notes… we are in our own prison, we have freedoms but at some point there is freedom from this form, and none of us know what that will be…
Shades of My Garden 