not that I ever have a full weekend (rarely), I work 6 days a week (my choice I am not complaining…. ok, a little…), but I still like to think of the relief of the idea of a weekend… the idea sounds so damn nice… but if you follow me you see that I like to post some simpler things on the weekend, or funny things, not everything I post has to be an exposition to impress you or anyone, I aim to entertain to those who like my particular brand of thought (I post almost all my work, good, bad or indifferent), that’s all, as I usually say “with that said…”… so with that said…
“untitled” 4/26/18
hello day moon
I’m told you must signify something
just another thursday
I might imagine
if clouds are mountain tops
you are the king
but not mine
“untitled” 4/26/18
amber ember remember
blazing fire burning hotter,
forget,
why do I keep locked back
to ponder wonder hover,
the past is ash
yet I still grasp
the soot, stains my fingers
the scent, of expired fire
that once was
where now – there is none
“struggle” 4/28/18
cherry blossoms fallen
first line of defense
dandelions spawned
infantry
buds bustle and deploy
out on limbs
but winter always loses
so why try?
like all else
struggle
for every ounce of life
“untitled” 4/28/18
a sunset
how many more sunsets
will I see
how many more
alone
all around
this world is sprouting green
but yet my heart remains mourning
in winter’s captivity
musical amusical a musical, going really classic (legendary imo) on you all…
Anyone who has read my blog (thanks by the way) should know by now I endeavor to sit out on my porch and observe the world, I kind of want to do this as an experiment over the course of time so you can track my thoughts along the course of a year, I write “from the porch” often but not every day, but still it should be an interesting experience to see where this goes. Tonight’s edition is actually something(s) I wrote and totally forgot about. I am not saying these are all masterpieces, more often they are set pieces to capture the moment… I have so many journals laying around (I try to have one ready wherever I go: my car, my outdoor backpack, work etc etc).. so somehow these entries missed being posted (could be me working 60-70 hours a week… nah….) but anyway I want to post them and then I will put them in order in the series (because I like order, you may call it OCD… damn you) so anyway without all my verbose droning…
“porch” (series) 6.10.2018
the rise and fall of the cicada’s song
the humidity has lost a bit of its teeth
but is still warm to the touch
a young lone jack rabbit nibbling on my lawn
the distant hum of airliners crossing some miles away
the birds chatter dims in the fading tones of light orange
the cicadas song comes and goes flowing over
the summer night – still there is light
this late hour when winter would be pressing sleep
the summer stays awake with the possibility of day
The oppressive ire of a humid summer broke in a big way yesterday, the temperature dropped to the point of going from summer shorts to a fall jacket overnight, I can’t say today was one of those miserable gray days you might think of, but it did rain all day, kind of off and on, never to hard never gone, I was going to go out and try to write out on my porch, but it is raining man… so I didn’t, but my mind did start up the writing engine as I was taking out the garbage (ah yes the regal authority of suburban life) and I thought about the rain (and as usual things we take for granted). I love the way rain sounds, I am one of those people who listens to “white noise” at night to sleep, usually ocean waves (my fave) or rain storms (especially with rolling thunder)… but then a little gnome of realization grabbed my ear and whispered… “rain is silent you fool”, after a little soul searching about listening to a figment of imagination I had to tend to agree…
Rain does not make noise. Rain is the percussion section of nature’s orchestra. All the sounds we associate with rain or storms is certainly “not rain”. Wind ? Thunder? The trees whipping, cars whipping down the street whoosh as they go by, jumping in a puddle splash, the ground rumbling from thunder claps… all not rain. Rain is the sound of impact. Think about that, something that only makes sound upon impact… and everything it impacts makes a different sound… but we process that as “rain” but it is surely not. Rain is a silent lot, as it hits your earlobe, your car hood, your driveway, a thousand leaves, all of these… so remarkably different in all aspects. Rain is not like a voice, a voice is the sound of you, it may have a different impact on the intended target but the sound.. the sound is not impact, the perception is, quite different from rain. So then…
I thought further, about water, in general… do waves make a sound? or is it their impetus movement against the shore ? Do ice cubes make a rap or is it the impact with your glass? or the crack as they dissipate ? Waterfalls, where is the sound found ?
I guess, remember to look at all things and think, observe how the world really works.
so after my philosophy blathering… “philosophy is the talk on a cereal box, religion is a smile on a dog”
one of my all time favorites… enjoy, smile, smile at the world, because a scowl doesn’t help anything. do I do that all the time ? nah… but I am trying.
I finally made a page for this “series” or whatever it may be, my attempt at just creating my art as it is on the fly, on spot, on my porch. But here is what I wrote tonight (well, last night since I am schedule posting this for the morning , remember I will never tell you something is new if I post it if it is not, I will always post my dates of writing same, that is just me because I am really trying to post me, or at least the best approximation thereof), when I post older stuff, you will know, does it matter in the long run ? probably not, but I am me and I will be Mr. Me all the damn time.
9.2.2018 “from the porch” (series)
so here I am once again
the hour is late august
no, early september
(although they speak a version of the same language)
ambitious leaves
are now beginning to fall
either precocious –
or tired of the season summer
and her beating heat,
I find myself staring
at the leaves of my japanese maple
knowing, but yet wondering
if they are even alive
in this still non breeze
this quiet of not quite night
I don’t even see any tremble,
trees barely seem alive
unless they are pushed and persuaded
their growth, seems to happen
in a different time
quit different, than the flow of mine,
hard to comprehend, understand
or wrap around my head, my mind,
I try to think of some clever metaphor
for trees,
my roots welling up, bolstering the pillar, of my trunk
branching out
the leaves, how ever do they fulfill
the sun, driving the hunger
burning the oil of chlorophyll,
but I wonder, what are my leaves?
obviously I am the core, the tree itself
trunk and branch
always there, in all seasons, even winter bare,
so what are my leaves?
are they feelings? people?
but what in my life do I have all
and then – none more,
so I suppose this is a failed metaphor,
failure, we’ve all worn the shawl
failure, even in words sounds so dire
but yet, should be as natural as the breathing air,
all the many species
that have come to past
and those that survived
not by a straight line
with a dollop of luck
or just a plain old long shot,
so flip failure on heads
on tails
you might just find
hope, even on summer’s end.
“on the eve of labor day” (porch series) 9.2.2018
I witness the world sleep walking
even the clouds seem crawling across skyward dreams
only one cricket seems to care with lonely declare
the once raging blaze of the fireflies in peak – is dying out
only a few embers remain here and about
the temperature has not yet quite broken
but soon enough will
yet in a way I still mourn
yet knowing you will return once more
but for me, this means one less,
a few leaves have already leapt to begin their slumber
Champagne wishes and caviar dreams… so I was thinking… as I usually do, I have had moments where I question what I post (after the fact)… but it is so damn silly (in the scheme of things), so what if I lose a few of you? honestly… I say I am doing this for me (and I am, it is sort of therapy)… but obviously everyone loves the (any) attention or adoration, the seduction… I would love to tell you I am soooo above it, I would love to tell you I soooo haven’t pondered it… but that is complete crap. I am trying to not care (not saying not having appreciation, that is a different thing my friends)… but I am human, it is nice to be recognized, I certainly am not above it… but I want to be at some level of it, I want to actually have accolades with you face to face (or at least digitally)… why? because the rest is bullshit, plainly said. I will disappoint you, hell, I disappoint myself, I hold the bar way too damn far above my bloated dumb head… but I am trying, so thank you for writing, reading or … anything, I’m flawed, but I have a penchant for the pen chants… so I will write and continue to throw things to the wind (you all), please let some of it pass as angry rain, it will not all be a windfall of wisdom, do I want it to be? of course… damn high standards, damn walls, I am trying. I want to post and not think about consequence… and those who like it ? great? those who don’t – the world is a big place… surely I know less people and touch less people than there is in the world, or ever was, or ever will be, I am trying humility, even if it doesn’t seem to come in my size (I will talk to the retailer when I get the chance). simply – thanks.
Again, I have been trying to make a point about just sitting outside my humble abode and writing whatever comes to me, sometimes it is what can be called poetry, other times I have just deemed it free-form, but what’s the difference ? I don’t know, I am merely a conduit, of madam inspiration, how inflating, what persuasion? who knows, I don’t know what I am doing, even after all these years, I’m just some guy, with a calling I suppose, it all comes so naturally so why fight it, even these little notes and things are totally off the cuff, stream of consciousness even though I have such a scheming mind I can not lie that I do not plan what I talk about, just not…. always, how it comes out, but isn’t that life? should I agonize over every syllable ? seems silly when people are dealing the sheer horror life can bring and the sheer joy… how can my words stand up to the loss of a loved one… or the birth of a new one? I guess, I do not know, I am searching, for answers, for stories.. for words. and perhaps emotions and connections. Truly the more I learn the less I know, how many years this has guided my philosophy, maybe all life is like this, the better you get the more you suck (not a great bumper sticker, I must admit)… but… isn’t that what life is, just a learning curve that never ends…
“from the porch” 8.26.2018
I look up at the sky tonight
not sure if I want to scream, or just sigh
sort of in-between
I wouldn’t much mind the rain
but it seems, late for that
as those clouds, earlier there, have left the scene
gone to else
where, I wonder
I guess it does not matter,
summer is fading
as soon the waking
for another turn
around the track of seasons
we churn along
everything circular
everything gone
over and over this sameness
has this what has become?
of my days
I strain to see each filament in the spectrum of light,
I imagine every drop of moisture that collects
and defines the clouds I observe,
this night, all days, all times.
where is my place in all this?
do the clouds look down and ask questions –
or are they just clouds
as is what I am?
struggle, as I may never know the right questions to ask,
or to whom,
or am I not to understand
but not in this stubborn grinding mind
of mine, drives this vessel
for all I know,
I wish I could stop the clouds,
poll them,
but of course they pay me no mind –
a photograph (you ask) ?
just a reflection of the past
something I can collate and collect
but never really capture
a moment,
every moment I would like to remember
maybe my mind is just a common squirrel
hiding these acorns of warming
for what is known to surely come,
I can feel a chill – already.
Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com
I was also gifted the following article as I wrote this post.. just by chance:
Now I do not agree with the outcome or more clearly the conclusion, but that is what real free speech is about, letting others speak with whom you disagree, see something in what they say, or at least listen, and think about it.
Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com
Music… can you handle it ? can you deal with some real? how about a sick performance by one of my faves, come on in closer, click the link, close your eyes… and enjoy…
on a side note I also edited a previous post. a pretty big edit.. well, edition to be totally true.
and have I said … thank you, to anyone who reads this, I throw this stuff against a wall, expecting nothing, and I have been granted with more than that, so… thanks, to you.
an interesting article I came upon… (article)… I guess I am a loner hypochondriac … if there is such a thing, the article rang some bells in my dome, made me think, and maybe you, reading this… just food for thought, I am on my own journey but it is pure hubris to think I am the only one who has thought all I think or some of it at least, at some point, at some actual dna thing we are all the same… it is so big, why am I trying to figure it out.. because… well, that is how I am wired, to figure stuff out regardless of the daunting nature, maybe it is silly and stupid… and exhausting, but, this is my only life… it is all I know, how do you change… that ?
just a note (8/27), I post things like this because my brain is always on and grinding on things, I would not consider suicide (have I in the past? sure, but not an option anymore)… the only circumstance I could foresee is a debilitating disease that takes away this – me, my ability to be this silly little demon that we call David, if I had months to live and those months would be on a hideous slide where I would be losing myself to disease if only to extend my life a few weeks ? that is the only time I would consider it, I do love life, not every second, I am trying, because as I say, the alternative sucks, I wish I could carry with me a little pill of calm, not some drug but the actual thing, you know it when you feel it, I felt it tonight driving home from the store, I had to hop on the Parkway for a couple of exits and all the shore traffic was just gnarled to the core, but I had a sly smile, it probably pissed off those around, I just dialed in some music (cellar darling, my current obsession, going to see them live in a couple of weeks!), and just popped in that pill of calm, looked at the sky, the setting sun, and I felt it… calm. Now the trick will be to do that when the burner is on my ass, and work is in full swing, I had no where to be so I was in no rush, but what is so damn important anyway ? maturity and calm… I am working on it.
standing in your standard parking lot, I park far away from the other cars (as if I drive some sacred fancy chariot and not my actual car), and then the breeze hits me, one of those breezes that goes right through you, not like a chill, but with a comfort, the perfect temperature, just slightly cooler than the cooling late summer day, a temperature of balance, of perfection, a comforting hand that makes you take pause – and a deep breath, it seems we wait an entire year here for mere moments like this, an unorthodox equinox of our lives as they tumble through the gauntlet of nature’s whim, our lives spent, on the phone, rent, work, online comments – all in an instant leveled (or revealed) by a simple summer breeze, so I pause, to take it in (it would seem boorish and rude to do otherwise given the circumstances) and then, back into life, injected back into the “real” world.
Photo by Tirachard Kumtanom on Pexels.com
notes… I don’t live in the tropics, I don’t live any place particularly warm, warmer than some parts I suppose, I am closer to the north pole than the equator, and I suppose it shows, but I wanted to capture the moment, the feel, trying to do that more now, I would say I don’t know why, but I do, because I am alive, and I cherish that fact, maybe my life is not everything it was “supposed” to be, maybe I am a disappointment, maybe it doesn’t matter, maybe just enjoy it.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
musing music… a super group I bet ya never heard of:
This is an instrumental but just oozes with groove and blues… and the playing is next level, considering those players involved it is not a surprise… sad, things like this go by the wayside unheralded gems unheard gems… well, until you spied my blog.
notes… why a lion on this day? Simply, it is the end of the sign, the cusp onto the next one, why would I care? because this day is mine… silly. This is one of those poems I just loved immediately when I wrote it, there was instant gratification, visceral reaction, I can not begin to explain it as I am… well, actually doing here with these searching words, these prodding thoughts, into the depths of what drives me to write, it is hard to explain something that was always in the room, always there, sometimes I managed to put it away in some corner (for whatever reason over the years) but lately it has been the shining chandelier lighting all things, my lens, my view master to inform my etch-a-sketch (and yes I owned both those toys as a child)…
Photo by Stephen Niemeier on Pexels.com
music… as you may have noticed, unless you are new (welcome), my musical appetite is all over the map, I am always looking for something new and exciting (whether I missed the boat on it or not), and genre does not color my ears in response to new stuff.. or old stuff… I think of music like emotions, I want, ok, I demand the full gamut, the full run… because what the hell… we aren’t just puppies and unicorns.. or fire and death.. or simple beings period… oh, so after all that ranting… check this out, sure, I don’t speak the language (maybe I should given my last name heritage)… but… listen…
Often, well, more often these days I am trying to look for the simple things, the little things, the beautiful things… all around us in everyday life. Nature brings us so many of these things (including ourselves / humanity itself). So this brings me to my toothy friend, the Lamprey (often improperly identified as an “eel” which is way more evolved…oddly). This strange little thing, a marvel of engineering really, has been around some 300 million years on good estimates (based on the fossil records). So… this strange little blood sucker with barely developed systems has been around longer than us by a long-shot… Humans.. the pinnacle of everything? hmmm ? Just some perspective (we have only been around an absolute fraction compared to these slimy little bastards). So I felt like posting just some of my simpler poems… to communicate a simple thought, or feeling, or moment… sometimes I am just a simple one minded thing latching on to something for dear life.. and other times I am matryoshka doll… life is like that, I am trying to unpack my dolls within dolls and just be my core for all the world to see… we’ll see…
5/31/18
I can not express
in these words
what life is
to be
without you
(*note: this is my version of haiku, I think it encompasses the feel of the form)
5/31/18
in length
I am a rope
bound together
in knots
frayed ends
holding on
tied
together
(*note: another haiku feel for me… at least but also I was kind of also calling EE Cummings)
5/31/18
runways
maps for planes
lights at night
to guide
lines of sight
grounded flight
(*note: haiku feel… damn I said that already… but this was specifically about Teterboro Airport which I pass all the time driving home or about the local town)
“stairs” 6.1.18
I am at the bottom of the stairs
no recollection
of getting there
I look up
spotlight shines down
sitting
do I attempt
to climb my way out?
(*note – I wrote this in my basement, here in the northeast US we have “finished basements“, essentially totally another level of the house underground, I was doing some sit ups and looked up the stairs… hence the thrust of the poem…)
6.1.18
happiness
you were once a confidant
a neighbor
a friend
a lover
and now
no longer
“simple line” 6.2.18
I point
there is life
there is death
your only disagreement
a single breath
“support” 6.3.18
bridges built
bridges lost
bridges burned
I drown so fast
6.18.18
you are my flower
to plant
to water
to love
my treasure
to love
forever
Notes… as always I appreciate all feedback… I welcome criticism.. in fact I invite it, I want to be beaten up because I do not have your eyes, your ears or your mind, I am not looking for acceptance or sycophants, I am confident in my own dome, this, my home of words, but I want to understand other people’s land that their voice is planted on… because how else can I grow… if I do not know what else is out there in this virtual planet?
Shades of My Garden 