I actually wrote something about 9/11 today (in my car reciting it to myself until I arrived at work and feverishly scribbled it down)… but it is something I actually want to work on due to the nature of the moment (very not me, I know, you know if you read anything I write that I am usually just in the moment of now)… Every day I drive a certain section of the NJ Turnpike (geez, what an arcane term) and a hill crests where you can see NYC like a postcard (over that abomination of a train station)…. thousands of cars, we all pass this every day vision in the distance, so close you can almost touch it, I wonder how many pause and are struck by inspiration, surely not the A-hole in the Infiniti all over my bumper… I used to have road rage but now I smile more, because where the hell are we all going ? really? plus I have great tunes on my USB stick….
So I posted the above because I am determined to post everything I write for the most part… good or bad, this is not about me showcasing my best stuff.. this is me unloading on the universe that which I am driven to create, and share. I do not claim to understand how this works, if it works… or anything… if I can touch one life I suppose it is all worth it, even if that life is just mine.. maybe I am a fisherman throwing out my line into the ether… for another her… a companion or just friendship… I’m not so sure about anything anymore, the more mistakes you make in life the less you trust yourself, but you are better at hiding it… so much better…
I think about life… and death. I have no memory of any life before mine so am I destined to be just a grain of sand… who disperses into the nothingness of the vast ocean of the universe ?
life began as a proton having a menage a trois with some electrons leading to a single cell organism living happily in a puddle of chemical muck of amino acid building blocks… and then that single thing decides to replicate (as we all want to do but amoebas did not believe in birth control apparently)… eventually pull itself from the slime (some millions of years later) and climb onto the land … and suddenly has the choice of a galaxy or an iphone.. truly evolution.
for this poem I am invoking a bunch of science… I am saying we could be ‘flat’ not referring to Flat earth belief… but that we think in 3D when there are other dimensions out there.. so we would appear flat to something in a 4D universe (I am also referencing string theory), I know, heady stuff… but I if we just live and die.. what is the point ? I want to believe there is more… we all do.. some have religion.. some have science… I have nothing… I am still looking, hoping, searching…
in the bottom of my bath basin. I do not imagine most Americans call it that. But the word “tub”… is just.. well, ugh. I think of a tub of lard… or a tub that you throw stuff into (utilitarian but not exactly a thing of beauty). I mean, even a Tuba sounds like… a Tub+A. Guitar has a much cooler ring to it. Anyway, back to the dead moth. So this thing flew into my shower and I watched it fly into the beating stream (I have one of those adjustable showers and I like the sado setting like raining ball bearings of hot water pelting my back like a good snowball fight). I thought about scooping up the guy and letting him back out…. but then I figured.. it’s just a damn moth, how long do they live anyway? Which set off a philosophical conundrum in the foundry of my mind. We do not live that long relatively speaking. A Redwood would probably look at me and scoff… and then a Joshua tree (not the U2 album) would comment about the Redwood “oh those silly kids”. I kind of like the Buddhist idea of reincarnation but what if there is no remembrance of your former thing? And what if you were reincarnated as the same thing 10 times… or 1000… So anyway, the moth took about 2 days to finally go down the drain, it kind of hung out in the tide of my showers… taunting or haunting me, not sure. Just some food for thought.. or some words to digest.. or some other lame gastronomical appropriation… So here is something vaguely related…
so, I sat down for a cup of coffee with Fate
actually, I am sitting by myself because she is late
(so typical of her)
been a long time since we caught up
so long I can’t even remember how we first met
I really shouldn’t be surprised
I’ve known her for basically my entire life
I really don’t think she does it to be rude
I know she has a lot to do and lots of other people to see
I remember how she would tell me about work
and she felt like she had been there “forever”
how every time she got through a pile of work
there would magically appear another
so, I get it
but I must admit (between me and you) it is still a touch annoying
I guess I just have great anticipation
she always has something interesting to say
and the stories…
man! the stories, she has the best stories
I always tell her she should write a book
but of course she would say
“you know my stories do not work that way,
I have to tell them in person, person to person”
so then I suggest she should do some stand up comedy
(she is very funny you know, a bit dry but very clever once you get used to her twists and turns)
so she would reply
“ugh, knowing me, and you know me, I would have to come up with a new act every night, and that is just exhausting”
of course I agree on reflection
but you always want your friends to ride their talent to full potential
I know she does great at her job,
so I really shouldn’t worry,
human nature I guess
is that her car?
no, I think she has a newer model
(maple latte please)
oh, here she comes
she has brought a guest…
My notes are usually up front but I wanted to flip the script…. because, why not? I wrote this while digging in the middle of a brook for fossils today… must have been a strange (amusing) view, I am up to my boots in muck and the idea hits, so I had to scramble to the bank in thick schwup (sound) steps through muddy sand, dry my hands, pull my journal out of the plastic bag, and scramble these words, the whole time cursing the dumb pen I packed (because damn it sucks but I can’t bring my Mont Blanc or Cross into the woods). The idea of treating abstract ideas as people is of course not new but I don’t recall if I have done this before. My personal favorite at this is Neil Gaiman, to say he is a master story teller is under selling. Check out this video with him and Stephen Fry, I found it utterly entertaining. So, back to my post. Fate? Pre-destination ? What do you think of fate? I vacillate.. we think we know so much, but in a universe defined by billions of years how can our intellect really grasp how this all works given our blink of an existence? We all want to believe we have free will.. but how can we actually prove that … … … ?
sometimes I won’t have something clever to say, it happens.
sometimes I just want to post some stuff, it happens (below)
driving around my hometown
in all the corners
shadows and streets
creep and speak
I no longer listen
I block them out
my own eminent domain
I cast my line
time and time
a nibble perhaps a bite
to reel in my catch
a simple delight
lights turned out
if there is wind
let it fill my sails
transport me to foreign shores
to unknown lands
where I might
music? OK, I can get back into that. King’s X “Thinking and Wondering (what I’m gonna do)” (live, acoustic), so yeah, King’s X is a band I love and will post about them until the world puts me 6 feet under. King’s X is a gay black front man from Illinois, a slick guitar player from Mississippi (southern drawl), and a drummer from New Jersey (who is an interesting writer).. and they can all sing.. so yeah, they were diversity before diversity was cool… because it wasn’t a thing, they just “were”.. like we all should be.
What holds us back? Mostly ourselves. I am not claiming to be better or an authority on how to live. In fact the more I think about life the more confused I get. How in the ever loving world am I supposed to understand another person? We are all an amalgamation of very specific ingredients and experience coalesced into this singular experience. That is of course why we gravitate to our own tribes. Nothing spectacular there… so the question becomes how to break these walls? I could say it takes courage… but does it really? We all find our comfortable couch and love the familiarity… I am just as guilty but I see it, I see me… I want to burn like a hot stick of dynamite in the world, I am sure I have it in me… but what holds me back? or you ?
Here is something I wrote today… as is my usual jaunt this is a one take piece (literally, I thought about live posting the writing which I may do in the future)… I wonder if I should work on my work or just keep throwing out what I pen immediate. I know I could improve some words, some rhythm for sure… but should my poems be perfect … as I am surely not? I should let go of the fear.
I am a bird
lying in a broken pile
of my own filth
penetrated by the sadness
deadened by the masses.
Music? Yeah.. I got that… Paradise Lost “As I Die” … PL has been one of my faves for .. damn, that long now? I always thought this is the direction Metallica should have gone.. not the crappy one they have… I love Paradise Lost because of the name (obviously you poetic Milton freaks).. and they change sounds almost every album (even an electronic one! the awesome “Host“). I swear they should hire me as a publicist… well, maybe not.
I will use all the usual cliches… “it spoke to me” “I was inspired” … well, it happens to be true so there goes me being too cool for the room and turning my nose up to convention. For whatever reason the universe decided to drop New Zealand into my mind lap and I am hooked deep. I am not talking about actually loving an inanimate object (because that IS a thing apparently) but more the sheer diversity of the lands (fauna/creatures) and people in somewhere located literally on the other side of the world. Truly it makes you wonder about the universe if most of us will never explore all the nooks in our own country (or state!) let alone this entire tiny dot on the backside of the milky way booty. I am particularly enchanted by the Maori culture (as in most Polynesian cultures it focuses on nature and particularly the oceans). So with all that verbosity spilled here are some NZ inspired poems. I probably will write more but these came in a rash/dash of inspiration so… (notes below the poems explain some of the things I was thinking about as well as links to various mythology/information… you MIGHT have to learn something… I apologize in advance but I seriously have a NZ bug lately…)
DMK note: the fantail is a stunning little beast. They can course correct in mid air due to their (drum roll…) fan tail. Check out this video. Amazing bird.
might I be buried under a pohutukawa tree
and climb the roots
pulling oddly one by ten
to fool the blind
and so I may fall again
right back into the earth I fled
and roots shall draw out my life
coloring flowers of blood blossoms
to mark the path
and softens the harshest lands
might children play around my spine
elders pray to the north
DMK Note: lots to play off here, you sort of need to know about the trees and the Maori beliefs. But for me I found it fascinating that the Maori have a specific place where the dead leave the earth to travel back (in spirit) to their homeland. I am specifically referencing certain elements in the story of Tawhaki. The tree itself is also fascinating as it clings to outcrops and can pretty much grow in some extremely harsh environments… I would like to think of myself that way… if I were that brave, one can dream, and I certainly do.
penguins in the forests
foot paths worn with water feet
all these mazes
for children’s sake
their cousins the kiwi
also tired of flight
peck and hunt
upon the ground
all the while
with peculiar gate
and protruding snouts
might they all admire
ranger of the night
who has forgotten flight
DMK Note: NZ has an amazing diversity of life due to evolutionary forces separating the island from any other lands. The isolation has led to a few very significant flightless birds. The Kiwi of course is quite famous as it gives the nickname for NZ natives themselves. But the Kakapo is this amazing huge night parrot. Unfortunately due to introduced species the Kakapo is nearly wiped out but conservation efforts are in full swing thankfully. Oh yeah… the penguin thing... they live in the forest and make this mad commute every day that rivals my own. Penguins in the forest ! really!
“Te Rerenga Wairua” 5/21/18
fingers of flame
filaments of fire
holding onto this plane
blooming land anemones
from root to branch
extends out to the tide
two bodies collide
in the distance
flowers for passing eyes
one last glimpse
before the dive
DMK note: Cape Reinga (the Maori words are the title of the poem). Literally believed to be the point where souls jump off to return home. I am again referencing the Pohutukawa tree as well here… and the fact that two oceans literally meet off the coast of this amazing place. There is a tree said to be 800 years old just clinging to the coast… I mean, how many more metaphors can you pour into this thing ? Amazing…
A little science mixed in with poetry might seem like an odd couple. Sometimes (OK, often) I find myself pondering the universe and such so I suppose it is not that odd a stretch of fabric at all. Maybe I should spend some time untangling string theory … (and I don’t mean cat’s cradle).
is this pointless?
I am sure the words
upon the mouths
of babes and hoards
ladies and lords,
circadian time slots met,
the sun never rises
nor truly sets,
until the mad rash,
dash of a giant red expansion –
super nova wink, expulsion
becomes the horizon
of observers or no eyes,
just the same
I hope this post finds you well my friend. How are you? Glad to hear it.