I call these “thought poems”…

I call these “thought poems”…

person wearing blue jeans sitting on bench
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5.14.2019
the terrors of the night
they come for me
night after night
they come for me
but yet, I survive
so do they even exist
anywhere but my mind

5.15.2019
I shadowbox at night
admittedly
not quite the fair fight
but my desire to win
has become-
addiction


notes… I call these thought poems because, well, I felt like it, damn, that does not seem like a valid reason, hold on… (pacing), I think these are like haiku in intent, meaning to deliver a feeling or a thesis where not all my poetry endeavors to do (man that sounds so much better), sometimes I am just a distiller trying to distill, because that is what distillers do silly. I must be daffy, it is one of those weeks, work is bonkers nuts and my home laptop SSD drive is dying/dead, I had to take the thing apart tonight to recede the drive, my crazy insane dork laptop crippled by a SSD… hah… ah, life is ironic.

music notes
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music to contemplate by (as I am known to do…)

>>> Minus the Bear – Pachuca Sunrise (live in studio)

this will always be my beach/ocean song, I was in the keys when it came out just watching the aqua blue waves roll in with thunderstorm clouds spotted and rattling in the distance, I can not describe how surreal it was, sitting there, my feet dangling off the dock into the warm waters of the gulf stream, translucent glistening surf in moonlight, lapping waves, cracking thunder, palm shadows… and this tune…

sometimes you pause.

sometimes you pause.

deadbirdnearwork

upon a dead bird

I did not know your name
or your song
or how long
you have been gone

for I missed you my friend
your peak in flight
now laid here
on unmarked ground
to never know
your voice
or of your sound
your sweet repertory
rests in silence now
the wind animates plumes
like half staff flags
placed upon
this earthen tomb

so for this moment
I take pause
wish you safe passage
into that good night.


notes… we have all seen the occasional dead animal here and there, not sure why this struck me to write, it just did, so,  maybe because I walk by this spot everyday to the office door and notice the little local flocks of birds in their home among the local planted landscaping bushes surrounding what becomes my home most of the time to be honest.  You get used to the little one scratching out existence in this urban-ish environment (Hackensack is very commercial and has the most polluted river in the country).  I cherish my little friends, they help center me, on a bad day, I can walk outside among the cigarette butt ‘garden’ and see how nature deals with everything, it just does, with blind ambition, and there might be a lesson there, if I wasn’t some dumb human.

person holding round smiling emoji board photo
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and as always, any thoughts, critical barbs, long diatribes, structural critiques, letters of hate written using the blood of virgins… all is appreciated if not encouraged even.  I do this to hone my craft and myself, and unfortunately I can not escape this form as currently constructed, so I have to rely on outside forces for feedback, as confident as I am I only know mostly everything… (wink)

a simple thought about, well, everything.

a simple thought about, well, everything.

landscape sky night rocks
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“the theory of everything,
a flash of light
and then the ending”


written 3/19, sometimes I like to distill things into base ingredients, this would be one of those times.

music… to groove by…put on your buds (or better yet pump up the home system to feel the bass in your people space)

Sounds from the Ground – brightwhitelight (full album)

View from the porch (on going series)

View from the porch (on going series)

(my ongoing thoughts free-form (trickle of consciousness or better) and naught, I sit on my front porch and just breath words into the page, hopefully)…

gray dove perching on tree branch
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the gentle but solitary coo
of the mourning dove
the last ten top feet of copper fading
atop the highest trees
three quarters full day moon above
artfully placed against the blue
even surface features visible to this naked eye,
and onward the call
woo-ah, coo… coo… coo
woo-ah, coo… coo… coo
robin’s still bickering, over this lullaby
a jack’s seasoned camo so sublime
even a good size one nearly escapes my view
a bird of prey enters the scene across the street
I carefully stride forward, closer
to identify and get a clean look
with a great whoosh down in flight
crossing my eyes
a falcon’s unmistakable lines
for a moment all other sounds
commit to silence
I was not the only one
paying attention.


abstract black and white blur book
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notes… wrote this sunday night (I thought my post sunday made more sense to post with the St Patty’s theme, call me pandering, I agree), I have some crummy photos of the falcon from my phone, which sucks because I had it framed against the day moon, a huge bird of prey sitting on a perch in my backyard under a day moon… damn I suck, lesson learned, I will bring my SLR out more when I write… but it is so apparent the world is ready to bloom, to explode, I can feel the feeling building each time I go out and listen, spring is ready to break through the not so perma frost, I can feel it.

MUSIC, as always my friends I love to infuse you with my musical madness…

Tori Amos – Marianne (live in NYC 1997)

And… to be fair, I was at this show, I have seen many shows in my day (thousands), and I am a total metal head… but this… this… she owned everything from the material, the performance and the crowd…. this was a special night, thank you Tori for all…

a few quick items…

a few quick items…

blue clouds color danger
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not even sure if these are complete, but admittedly I have an awful track record of going back and finishing things (I write in the moment best), so I consider these my orphans as it were, just thoughts, a capture in time, a brief idea (maybe the ideas will catch fire in someone else’s sphere),  so without further blathering fanfare here they are… (cue curtain pulling back, lights fading)


struggling to describe the scene
a man of words hides in verse


the past is written in stone
engraved upon my soul


I close my eyes to see
the dawn of my dreams
as I drift to sleep
I walk upon the gate


team picks
in a pitch of reeds
taller domain

notes… this last one was a play on how back in the day we were picked for teams in games (ahem on a pitch) almost by height, and also had to line up by height when we were kids in school (does this still happen? I don’t know.) I was looking at the bay of reeds at the end of the street of my office which is now a construction site building a personal cube storage place… (these were written a few months ago, specifically 12.2 for the first one and 11.20 for the rest… out of my journals, man my handwriting still sucks, you think I would learn to write a little smoother, you would think…)

music – Tycho’s set from burning man 2018 (with visuals)

I totally dig it from a visual and aural sense, this is not all his stuff, plenty of call backs in there, but just relaxing (well, at least to me, for what it is worth), but check him out if he comes to your town, man I love his music.

and speaking of worth! thanks for reading, I ramble, I type, even if one person reads this all is cool but honestly I am just sharing, so if the art hits a heart I was not aiming, so… thanks.  all likes, follows, comments, rhubarb pies, capezios, z-cavariccis are appreciated.  feel free to quote me, just credit me, if you don’t well.. ah, maybe you will get a fungus on one of your toes or something… (wink, but seriously thanks to all who stumble upon my little corner of the world)  I am off to replay Rygar

which piece are you?

which piece are you?

chess chess pieces glass macro
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“chess”

send in the clowns
the fools who lead
sent out by crowns
the pawns in line
fall double first time
the king’s have their castles
and gold to trade
life is gained
ground is granted
suitors fallow
bloodlines planted


notes… written 11/13/18, slight chess metaphors but also not, of course “send in the clowns” is an obvious reference (well at least to me – but I also mean jesters), and that is how this poem started (ever been there, where one line just makes the others in your head?), it led me to think about how those in power send out those who are not (and I am not saying I would be above that if I was given the realm, being moral without the choice to not be moral is easy to talk about), back to the lines – pawns can move two spaces so that is the “double” reference, the king line is in reference to “castling” in chess (double meaning to me, you work out the details), then after I was kind of was mixing that with the way royal bloodlines have propagated over time (ahem, via incest)… am I explaining to much?  eh… I felt like it this time.  Sometimes rhymes have more than they seem, or at least hope to be.

Music : Thought Industry – My Famous Mistake

These boys were doing strange atmosphere way before it was cool (think Tool meets Helmet with prog tones)

And yeah… I have been keeping up with my Media Review page lately