Tag: faith

thoughts… from the porch (my porch, or perch, or… whatever, free form thought, give it a spin, you might like it)…

thoughts… from the porch (my porch, or perch, or… whatever, free form thought, give it a spin, you might like it)…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
abandoned grass light merry go round
Photo by Levi Damasceno on Pexels.com

in the distance I can hear children faintly playing, yells and screams evoke alarms inside instead of joy, in these abnormal times, my instincts, reactions, daily actions, all come into question now…
Ring-a-round the rosie,
A pocket full of posies,
Ashes! Ashes!
We all fall down.
I wonder if a simple child’s rhyme will outline this stretch of death one day, that, of course will come after, not in the teeth of the pathogenic strife, I have always believed I was a patient person, certainly not a short fuse bomb waiting to happen, just when I do reach that limit I feel like I am up on the absolute edge of a cliff, no other side, no bottom, no turning around but leap… I picture that my candle was great and tall like a fortress castle wall, but burning down for so long now, my wick surely has not much longer to go, and the dawn, I am not a candle-maker, maybe I have to be, or learn to be, I do not know, or should I strive to deprive the flame of bright oxygen, I can not cap all the air, even if I tried my subconscious thoughts would betray and supply, a traitor I harbor inside.
This is much easier, today, sitting here on my porch, no mask (aside from the ones I always wear in that other life), no gloves, no one around to be socially distant from, I suppose Fear is taking a nap, he had a busy week with me back at my office, and certainly he plastered my inner walls with doubt, but all seems calm now, with a deep breath, I  exhale as much of the negative as I can muster, I envision my candle now, small flame flickering inside my sanctum, the wax of the worn melted drawn out onto the wooden table, the newborn pool of spent liquid wax reflecting a dancing twin, “slowly, slowly” I mantra, “this will all end” with a hope wrapped in a prayer

onward goes, this strangest spring, awaiting the salvation of normalcy to arrive into these harbors overflowed with a cargo of hope… and renewal.

https://youtu.be/6CBjJhDDunQ

the cricket response…

the cricket response…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
macro photography of babys ear
Photo by Burst on Pexels.com

sound, a transport device, a time travel mechanism at least in our memory response, something we all can account for, just now, I was listening to some random ambient on youtube and there was a background sound embedded, buried, a familiar sound, a pinpoint sound, crickets, like devious little natural metronomes, chiming, precise clockwork chirps provide context, surely this is not their true domain, a gloomy rainy cold day, the weather prognosticator already told the fortune of today, rain in spades, or some other suit, but that is the saying, anyway, that pill popped into my subconscious I was already to rue the day, to welcome the disappointment of my appointment with rain, the expected, expected to be understood and ground, I do love a good thunderstorm however, so my hopes were up for at least some rumble, some tussle of spark, a great reminder of nature’s power via rolling clouds of thunder sparked by bolts, yes, I do quite enjoy a good storm, as long as my power stays on, pampered human am I, all the while to watch the tempest from my safe box, admittedly, from comfort, but back to the crickets, I am transported from this somewhat lackluster day to a summer night, by a fire, in the mountains, or even just outside by a lake, but definitely summer, and most definitely night, when the all else of the world is faded, just the subtle crackle of collapsing embers, out past the flickers rising in the sky, the crickets, a constant sound, I could hear that sound in a blizzard and feel comfort, for at least a time, the power of sound to bring my mind somewhere else, sometimes a song, to a place, to a gathering, a party, a wedding, a celebration, I can feel the suit I’m wearing, the clanging of the formal wear, the shoes pound on a dance floor, or maybe just a time, alone sitting watching the waves come in, with a new album on my ipod, a dozen years ago, always connected to that beach, the clear waves of the Key’s lapping my feet, having the dock all to myself, like owning the world and stepping into the scene whenever I like, just a song, and I am there, and there are those who would argue about mystical things… take a listen…

notes… tomorrow will be day three back @ work for me, like, physically instead of remotely, at my office (Bergen County, NJ covid central ground zero in Jersey), granted there are only a few of us there, but I am dealing with all the same things in my head, my brother is helping this week taking care of my folks thankfully, the weather seems to be looking up, at least it wasn’t raining today, my bamboo is booming, as it always does this time of year (you would not believe how much can grow in a day), in my mind I look forward to when it fills out the entire corner of the house like an impenetrable forest  fortress of green all year round, that will take years, and I hope for those, those years that is….

PS: found a Chinese restaurant tonight that was open ! yay!  NY/NJ chinese take out is an essential thing, something we all (from this area) take pride in in some strange way, there is no way people here would blame them for the virus, I love cooking, but not every night (and only italian places seem open), there is something comforting in getting some wonton soup, shrimp and lobster sauce… and an eggroll, one of those little building blocks of normalcy I can add to the stack.

inspiration just strikes at times…

inspiration just strikes at times…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
gray concrete triumphal arch surrounded by flowers
Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com

upon the entrance of coventry dawn
forced to march single file toe
asked to be masked identities known
filed past great strong walls silent
such walls with no signs, but stained with mandate
while on the outside the great thousands die
the weak, the old, the ill –
those who can not pay up the price,
and there on massed in great coventry hall
those huddled with luck, a buck and more
for all the protection this frail fort proceeds
all but will with a tiny breach
to crash down with vicious might
a wave, a break, the weight of blight
in that previous moment of told hope
within the seed of doom a fire took
for this dragon has teeth we’ve seen
the world has turned time into a stretch on lean
the privilege of life has but one catch
survival has born down to just one match

notes… to show you how strange inspiration is… the first line of this poem literally just ‘came to me’, I had no idea what it meant, and then I googled “Coventry“, yeah, strange, it all made sense in my head after that, and as I always say my poetry is what it is, I have always gravitated towards the classical models (shelley, lord Byron etc.)… so for whatever reason, if there is one I write this way, why fight it? There is no right way to do art, just produce your art from within, listen to yourself, you are literally billions of years in the making, might as well make your mark, my friends…

a prayer… (for those on the front)

a prayer… (for those on the front)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
people wearing face mask for protection
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

a prayer for those in the face of disease
for they are the faces we see
when life is most precarious
or stretched out on a bare thread
we look, to them
an army of the courageous
stewards of duty bound
to put aside the self
for the betterment of we
a prayer for you
for strength
for purpose
for divine providence
in these times of great need.

notes… my thanks to those I know in the field, and those I do not. Sports, a multibillion dollar industry has gone silently and quickly into hibernation, that might be all you need to know about what is important to all nations…

thoughts from the porch… (lions on lawns)

thoughts from the porch… (lions on lawns)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
silhouette of dandelion behind sun
Photo by Negative Space on Pexels.com

my index finger and thumb stained with the yellow of slain dandelion heads, how visceral my hatred is for these little beasts, I can not say the origin or recall, I’ve just known these are the bane of all lawns since the dawn of the great suburbia, invaders, interlopers, never to question that they must be rooted out like cancer cells that threaten the purity of the host, staring down at my yellow fingers I realize all this silliness and history stored within me, items we have just taken, absorbed, whole and then compartmentalized for a lifetime, how foolish, but how human, how me.
instead, these lions should be seen as more, they are heralds, bright harbingers of the spring, even with edible leaves, and then there is the transformation, from a golden disc that sings then sleeps, then without even the cocoon of a butterfly, up rises the perfect disco ball of cotton spires, delicate sphere loaded with airships to transport the future to all corners the imagination or wind or beast can reach, a lottery which odds are obviously good, a simple engine of design, probably will outlast all our technology, the simple dandelion, to be admired, truly.

notes… listen up and listen good, I was there in that audience in 1994 about 20 rows back left of the stage, listen all the way through, you’ll thank me…  just listen… this footage was cut from the official release… but trust me, in person it was electric… and when they did Manic Depression, they brought the house down…

thoughts from the porch… (rain revelation)

thoughts from the porch… (rain revelation)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
close up of silhouette against blue sky
Photo by Lum3n.com on Pexels.com

there is something about that first drop of true spring rain landing upon your bottom lip, strangely, the top lip impact is just not the same, kind of a drop hanging off a rooftop edge, or sliding off an umbrella’s side like a slug, there is something mystical about that one first kiss on the lower lip drop serenaded by the conversations of the spring birds that abound, such an up-swell of renewal that even ponce would be jealous of, this is not even proper rain, more like a hard drizzle, and then the inevitable patter of cloud siblings as they hit your outer wear, that distinct acoustic sound, a singular drum tone you know so well, no tune you can recall but a beat and rhythm you know so, so well, and then to the eyes, you can see the physical drops racing by, more like bolts and lines than drops really, the word ‘drop’ has such a specific look to the conjuration, rarely do you see actual drops of rain if you care to think about it, I desperately want this to be a pure baptism of spring, wash away the winter and all the dire darkness shrouding the world in the now, the subtle reminder, the tap on the shoulder, the realization, this is April, a gateway, there is a corridor and an ending lest we lose view of it at times, there is a spring, be it a metaphor or a tangible fruit to bear and then pick for sustinence forward, be sure, spring is there, pushing ever up against the dam of this damn winter, gathering such weight behind the barrier until winter can only relent and burst, this is the way of things, regardless of our cares, cars, cities, quibbles, arguments, tv shows, sports teams, skyscrapers, all of it, just window dressing against the never ending machine of this small earth confined to the laws of the expanding universe, size and scope is all perspective, and sometimes the little details need to realign your vision or perception, to bring you back to actual reality, the way of the world and as it will be, when the winter is undone as it always will be.

notes… inspiration is a tease, a master, a slave, all these, I am trying my best to bend to the wind in those sails and write everything as it is… to me, that is, if you expect someone else, well, that’s silly, I am just trying to be the me, feeling better these days amongst the forest of deadly disease that has surrounded my whole existence, today was not my day to go, hopefully not soon either, but you never know, I am trying to encapsulate my thoughts here… on this little blog, and I would be remiss, without thanks, to whatever god there is or not, but I would lean towards “is” because why do all this if there is nothing, there could be nothing, yes, there could be, but there could be more, so I would rather plant my flag in that land without colors on that flag, just the flag that says I am here, I was here, I am…

Thoughts from the porch…

Thoughts from the porch…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
clouds during golden hour
Photo by Sindre Stru00f8m on Pexels.com

modern against the madness

sitting outside on a conference call on my iphone about the state of work, my job, still on going, I think, I was doing remote support all day and never noticed the sun or how nice it was…

the spring sun is beaming down, I endeavor to absorb it all on every surface of skin, I don’t want to leave an inch, I close my eyes so the sun can cover my face, my eye sockets even, flood them warm, such reassurance, such a familiar song in this very strange time to bring me calm, even if for just these instants strung together, there is a rock, on my lawn near the sidewalk, not just a rock, one large enough to sit on quite comfortably for two, they had to remove it when laying the foundation, it has naturally two stations, one where I child could sit, one for those older, so I sit, I remember watching my neighbors from here, now they all keep a safe distance, the landscape roar in the background, leaf blowers, lawn mowers, this sounds like a spring sunday even if for a thursday, robins in little gangs state their marks, seemingly keeping their social distance as well, although they were ahead of the curve, I want to cherish each bit of the sun, for months the light has not brought this warmth that has arrived now, the trees, at a glance, still bare, but on the ends, the sparks of life bear buds, but still strange silent the scene seems, no children arriving home from school at the prescribed times, this could be any day of the week now, I think I can open a window, or two, air out the house, clean out the mood, perhaps clean out the stiffness of sheltering in place for days, the odor of stillness, of sameness, of watching history channel for 12 hours clean, life has slowed to a no pace, every moment seems like counting the time between dawn and dark, my symptoms are vague, for a few days now, kind of a general tightness in my chest, no cough, no fever, I am not sick enough to be tested, and I should revel in that really, but honestly at times it eats at your walls, especially since I know respiratory distress well, not in many years, but in my youth, asthma nearly took me twice, I was actually literally blue, I have had lifelong nightmares of drowning, so this is something that has always been in the back of my mind even if I have not been sick like that in years, a co-worker has the exact same symptoms I do, not sure if that is comforting, clarifying, or terrifying… this is literally one moment at a time, which makes this sun, so much more than just a bit of warmth, I want to feel the sun reach through me, into my cells, give that gift of life for as long as it will, and so I wait, as the sun once goes down again, I wait for the dawn and what transpires tomorrow.

notes… haven’t felt much like writing as of late, maybe I should, but circumstances dictate my mind has been elsewhere, I do not watch the news anymore, I don’t need a body count or a scoreboard, or scareboard, I know what is happening, I check the news sites once a day, no use or function in listening to doom all day long, we will come through, not all of us, this is true, but we can only do what we can do… and I am doing what I can to be good to fellow man, saying a little prayer for us all… (thoughts from the porch is a series, kind of my reaction part of my blog, kind of not)

the real big bang theory…

the real big bang theory…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
fire hell inferno flame
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

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.

https://youtu.be/UJhzmgR9kLc

another quip…

another quip…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
close up photo of assorted color of push pins on map
Photo by Aksonsat Uanthoeng on Pexels.com

“why do I seek objectivity
from perfect strangers
I know nothing of them
or their dangers”

notes… why do we seek comfort in the bed of strangers, minds I mean, get your head out of the gutter, ok, blame me on that one, my words lead you on, but we pin the tail on the donkey of expectations all the time, why?  we yearn for approval, as do I, just try, try and fail and then try and succeed, just believe in yourself, why ? simple… the universe has selected you, yes you, to be alive right now, and we share this space so I would appreciate some help in the matter, you won the universal lottery, think about it, all of the history of the universe… ALL of it, created you, reading this, if that is not amazing or a miracle, then show me one, OK, outside of pandas, koalas, and platypus… no fair on that count, I concede…

random thought as I folded laundry…

random thought as I folded laundry…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
person wearing pair of white girls rule text printed socks
Photo by CoWomen on Pexels.com

“I believe in the afterlife, my socks have to be going somewhere all these years, some stranded laundry dimension”

notes… sometimes quotes just pop in my head, this is one of those, folding my laundry after the superbowl, most weeks I only have one day off (ahem, today) so regardless of what is going on in the world I have to do what I have to do when I have the time, this may be a silly thought but yet also an interesting musing… where the hell do all those socks go… ?