springing

springing

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I would like to believe
that the birds sing-
(for me)
to pause, to stop (dead tracks)
from running to my daily flock
to hear their voice and stop
for surely they announce
(and I can feel)
spring is here
spring is about
even if the clouds doubt
or the temp flounders down
as grey as this day may be
the serenade-
tells me
(all I need to know)

cliche, but sometimes there is a reason for such things, I swear some birds are singing just for me, maybe it is all the bribes of rye bread crust, or leftover tortillas, or actual bird seed in the feeder, I would like to think they make mind of me, of course not, but why not dream it anyway, maybe I will wake up one day as a bird… I’ll try to remember and reward good stewards, but … I will be a bird so…

(and sometimes I am remiss to admit or post that this endeavor is truly just a corner where I post little notes, these are unedited one offs, and if not… I will tell you, not that it matters, I could tell you I worked on them like tilling soil for a week, same difference, but that is just not me, this, whatever this is, is just my thoughts in the forms they come to me, any questions or comments are of course appreciated, thanks for taking the time)

fog walk at night

fog walk at night

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I just walked outside, 3am local my time, how many times, more of this, do I have, and it hit me, the unique scene pasted over this same scene, how different every day is, and the same, but sometimes, like tonight, we are thrown a curve, a swerve, nothing so different that we panic, but yet so different we take immediate notice, so tonight was that, just now, a fog descended, a fog I say which is a rare thing in these parts, it makes lights resemble spotlights to handle the on stage talent, but nothing is there, just perfect lines, angles demarked, perfect cones strobing down from the street lights, closer lights are just as bright but do not have boundaries like those down the street, holstering their own fiefdoms, it is amazing to witness, and this is usually among us, by moonlight or streetlight, take a pause, for the miracles among us, like the universal cartographer is asking us to pay attention.

to the known end of…

to the known end of…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

{set scene: a solitary ivory candle wide enough to be cradled by two full hands, on an unseen table in a room with no window, a cup raised in the hand of a shadow arm cast out upon the wall, flickering, larger than life blazed through a grainy projector}

“to the known end of”
the known
how to tinker with creation
while feeding pigeons
bellies full of stones

under a moon… pondering…

under a moon… pondering…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

under the basking moon
the cool tide shifts
for sweat hides swiftly now
leaves tremble and turn
squirrels bury their treasures
the mother is tucking the edges now
the silks of spiders grows vacant

things change, even in a small lifetime, I can only imagine the ripples of time over long periods, like eons, not here, in this urban town, the burbs, the typical jersey suburb, parcels of land measured out, a lawn, a driveway, the american dream, it seems, with gusto and plows, concrete and asphalt, light poles strung like christmas decorations lining the parade route of the daily back and forth, I heard this was once farmland or even a chicken coop, but that was a different lifetime, before mine, but in my short observation, I have seen a shift in some and none, most of the birds remain the same, cardinals, jays, robins and the like, the rabbits of jack in spades have been a main stay, nervous little critters, then there are those canadians who really love to stay here year round these days, you would think they might explore the further south, and move to florida in waves, but perhaps compared to nova scotia this is like miami down, maybe they were there when I was younger, but I did not much notice the curious minions of northern parkway dogs like I do now, little watch towers looking about but oddly they seem smart enough (unlike a chicken) to cross the road as I can safely say I have not seen a flattened one, and least I forget the slyest of them all, the slinky foxes that skate along the hedge rows and meander in the shadows, to think all this life swirling about in just this tamed space, all it would take is a blink, and nature would roll into place.

the assumption of love.

the assumption of love.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

when was the last time I felt
a woman’s lips upon my own
as almost forgot
I see movies and jealousy ensues
but do I pursue
this in my every day life
do I assume
this will come to me.

the smartest of us may be the dumbest of the heart.

I have been single for… damn 30 years now, I have dated but I have also insulated… I do not feel worthy of a mate as I am a fail, and I realize we all are but I don’t want to subject someone else to that, I see it, I realize it, but I also live it… I see I am wrong but feel empowered to let it go on because we all die alone, I don’t know… I don’t know… it fucks me up, I see the inevitable but I also feel empty but strong… I deserve to be happy and mostly am but not complete… how the fuck do you communicate that to someone else who wants to be a part of that and their that… if that makes sense… just venting, it matters not it matters not at all… I wish it did… but what the fuck do I know… tons now.. but it will all be lost in 50 years or so after I am gone.. so why the fuck… is the question.

inner light?

inner light?

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

a diamond inside?
no. perhaps- diamonds are cold
a light?
a lantern – a voice
both entwined
for I know
you know
all that is right
to escape this hole
but worn as clothes
(on the outer skins)
the comfort of fur
to spurn the world
to flash color
when there is none.

we know the clock ticks
for the real clock has an end
not a loop
not a circle
but a cliff
into-
but then looking back
where might that origin be
back there
darkness- then a crawl
then a dance
then a life
perhaps romance,
and there here alone
on that edge
as that light
moves to the next.

on birds and bonfires.

on birds and bonfires.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I think my bones miss
sitting by the fire
the crackling conversation
the desire to inch closer
like sun on cheek
but down from heavenly domain
man’s built, until sunrise maybe
but comfort given in the dancing streams
I imagine a bard weaving
amongst the trees
the accompanying wind
is a friend now and again
causing light arms to throw embers
into the night sky
maybe-
one day to become stars themselves
for they are perhaps lost seeds, themselves

simpler times then
though the lens, is still there
to travel back barren bare
stripped back to bark
in the crisp evening air

and might I transform myself
or forget myself better yet
to spend a mile in front of a fire
with friends and the like
dancing lights in eyes alight
like we have done since the dawn
and in shielded ways will continue on

a bard’s song
leads to dreams
a bird’s song
opens the morning sun.

this was totally off the cuff (one take), as usual, inspired by this music, it all just popped into my head, the scene, the feel, the words, the simple notion of just being in front of a fire once again… for those who have never camped out there is something magical about sitting in front a of a fire you made up on a mountain top you climbed, watching the embers float up into the night… it ahs been awhile…