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eons” 4/29/18

I have no want of death

I do not wait for death

yet, the flicker of humanity

will extinguish

and the planet may pause

spinning eons by

carrying some other passengers

until the sun

burns out a billion years

the milky way

one star less bright

one less spark

against the canvas

of absolute night

who might notice

who will bear witness

no sky to look upon and ask why

death will have stolen all

from this little corner

of the universe

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…

Life and the cosmos…

Life and the cosmos…

silhouette of person
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 “the edge of the earth” 4/25/18

I am standing at the edge of the earth

ready to step off

into the universe

maybe our current existence

is actually a flat surface,

so I might fall

into dimensions

of curved comprehensions,

of life

travel back

future past

or perhaps beyond time

subsiding on another string

extending consciousness

by some other means.

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…

music?   Living Colour “Cult of Personality” … this song rings true for decades… plus Vernon is just one bad ass guitar player.

The idea of space…

The idea of space…

moon and stars
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inner space” 4/24/18


I try to feel every atom

the space in between

science tells me so

I travel the air inside

for the answers to this world

the empty space” 7.12.2018

I am standing

on the end of all known land

I am staring, wondering

I know all this

all this, empty space

and inside

am I just the same?

time ever pulls me on

I struggle

to grip what is beyond

what to make of the landscape


for that which shaped me

and is spent

forward, grinding

until nothing is left

the personal erosion

the never stop heart beat

involuntary breathing

I am falling

into the emptiness


a life’s fulfillment

a dream

has come to an end.

So science (at this time.. because real science changes all the time) tells us by observation that space is actually pretty empty (that’s why the little voyager probes will probably outlive our civilization… 70s tech will last a billion years! oh the power of hot stuff!).  Of course there is the new grease in between the creases thing (see what I mean about science evolving).  So there is immense space in between things but we feel so … connected in our tiny tiny corner of one galaxy in the vast immense insanely large universe… hard to wrap a primitive mind around…  so that is what I was thinking about… the space within our space and how we fill our space within that space.  Heady stuff… but… we only have one life, why not contemplate it all, even if it is much easier to just eat work sleep… I am no different, I’m trying to be, to focus on being a phoenix because I know I am, we all are (well, honestly not every one, I am talking to you, those reading this who have that spark), we choose normal (even our normal) because it takes constant effort to be the pinnacle… but we do owe it to ourselves, even though we will fail… but at least we can get some stuff done… my opinion.

music.  super chill ambient.  Seti “Pharos”, of course SETI is the project to try and detect alien life using the world’s best radio telescopes (like the amazing Arecibo array). This album is a total trip through the cosmos, you can almost imagine the stars as you travel past them (well, at least I can).  draw the shades or curtains, lay back, turn up the bass a little and imagine flying through space passing stars, asteroids and planets… and contemplate what Frank Drake was trying to quantify… definitely some super food for thought.   I appreciate all comments and feedback.. and criticism.. man I love complaints because how the hell am I supposed to see this through your eyes?  hint: I can’t!

Take the dive…

Take the dive…

mountain by the sea
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Acapulco” 5/4/18

I will dive

from barren cliffs

into the sea

to feel the depths

envelop me

without a witness

to the fall

the tide sings

a familiar song

nothing at all

nothing at all

no one at all.

This was inspired by (somewhat) the famous cliff divers of Acapulco in Mexico. They used to be on TV a bunch on ABC’s world wide of sports (dating myself, but that is OK, experience is a good thing).

Some thoughts…. Firstly I am afraid of heights.. so I would never do this in a million years or for a million bucks (besides you really do NOT want to see me in a speedo – and no, that is not me in case you are asking, thankfully I am not that hairy).  Secondly there is the idea (well, fact) that if you do not time your dive jump correctly you go splat (not so nice).  Thirdly I just liked this one when I wrote it (not a single edit, it came out of me just as it is written above, first take)… I think (I don’t want to assume) that most people reading this are fellow travelers in the arts (hello fellow practitioners of words!) or of the creative realms… and whether we would like to admit it or not we have favorite children, for whatever reason, there is that spark that blinds us and makes us proud in the same light (inspiration)… so this is one of those, for better or worse I just enjoyed writing this one… satisfaction.

So, sometimes I am lazy…um, I mean topical !  So here is some cool music to read my blog by.. Tycho “Dive”, if this doesn’t make you groove, check your pulse… open your mind to the electronic divine… this tune sold me on Tycho (not Tyketto… totally a Jersey thing…), if you get a chance go see him live, he tours often

Game of Thrones…

Game of Thrones…

antique armor black and white chrome
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So, being the consummate dork I am a huge fan… not of the books (they are a bit of a mess in my opinion.. I am a Tolkien boy after all, he makes more sense) but the show.   So for the hell of it I wrote some GoT inspired stuff… because… why not.  I love watching the reaction to the show here, I don’t know why, but I find it fascinating.  I’ve entertained in my mind flying out there to watch the final episodes… whenever the hell those come out.. come to think of it the show is now matching the output crawl of the books. Life imitates art imitates art… or something?

“Jon Snow” 7.2.18

wolf of the north
born of ice
blood of fire
descendant of the first men
crossed upon the mantle of tri-fire Targaryen
can the balance tame
a dragon’s ire
Daenerys’ desires
can this bond
shield the world
bend all men
into one will
to repel
the ever coming march
of the dead.

upon the wall
and through
O’ Jon Snow
show us the light of the north
the heart that beats flame
and stand before
the gates of doom
to battle upon
where the night king looms;
we look to you
O’ Jon Snow


in the crypts of Winterfell
rests the ages
the sages of generations
wardens of these northern lands
keepers of the sevens’ grant

This kid was the first to do a GoT theme cover on violin (well, I think)…. 7 years ago, and it still rules your world… I learned how to play this on guitar… and it made me happy.

On the porch observing…

On the porch observing…

ocean waves hammering rock boulder
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I have been battling a sinus infection for some days… wrapped up in my room, like a tomb just trying to get back to myself.  Sinus infections are like migraines inside your face, you can literally touch the pain and push it around inside the spaces behind and around the eyes.  Not complaining, just explaining.  Just something I deal with… people have it much worse than me… although I must admit I am waiting for the day when lack of breath will kill me.. it almost did a few times when I was a teen, asthma attacks where they had to jack me full of adrenaline…. where I was pacing about for 2 days unable to sleep.  I have nightmares of drowning and it is odd always knowing what most likely will be my ultimate end… lack of breath.

I wrote these today out on the porch, in conjunction.  In fact I wrote the second poem in the middle of the first and then finished the first.  The older couple interrupted my mojo but then inspired it… life is indeed strange these days, I hope it remains that way.

coming of the rain” 7.4.2018

among all this bounty

how can I feel such sorrow

so hollow;

the coming of the rain

far off rumbling

tremors in the air

the birds feel cautious

quiet, huddling

not the usual songs of summer

perhaps it is the fireworks

non rhythmic throngs

of bursts of bombs

leaves, here and there, begin to twitch

singular drops

seem to have met their marks

as my country celebrates

I sit here


for the coming of the rain


an older couple walking down the street

speaking in a foreign language

(russian I think)

they seem content

as much as body language presents

their forms

reflections on the side of my car

as they pass

in conversation

might I know their story

and be distracted from my own

DMK Note… I used the term “older couple” on purpose… I had to help my father do something the other day and he remarked that the client we were meeting is a strange young guy.  That guy had to be at least 20 years my elder… so I wanted to have the reader of this poem use their own idea of “older”… it is so relative, I will not reveal how old the couple walking actually was, it does not matter.



man wearing blue jacket holding a brown stick towards the heart drawn on sand
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So, I suppose you were expecting something about July 4th, nope (I do love my country but I can post about that any old day).  I was thinking about personal independence as we age.  My folks are in their 80s/70s so things are starting to go the way things go for mostly everyone that age.  Over the past year or so their herd has been thinning at an alarming rate.  Various friends lose a husband and then they also walk off into the after not so long after.  My parents (I do not know if it is a generational thing) have close bonds with friends going all the way back to high school… sort of the golden age of USA high school like you would see idolized in the movies…  My father in his ray-bans with a pack of smokes rolled up in his white shirt sleeve… My mother part of one of those clubs The Dungaree Dolls (or something like that, I always screw that up .. but it was literally just like out of the movie Grease) with the matching jackets.   To think what they have seen in their lifetime alone is astounding (and now they have trouble seeing, period).  A whole life’s collection of events, experience and footsteps.. and now even that simple step comes with peril. I used to laugh at those “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” commercials…OK, and I still do… BUT think about the reality of that happening, the helplessness, the sheer realization that you might not be able to take care of yourself anymore… after an entire lifetime of doing so (and raising seemingly ungrateful kids at times).    And I worry about what people might think of my blog ?  Totally moronic in that context… I suppose it is all perspective and I need to carry that around like a reminder, truly.

Slowly but surely life robs you of the simplest of things… your ability to move around freely now that you know more about the world than you surely did 40 years ago.  I can not imagine what a cage that must feel like.  I doubt most of us can even if we can get a handle on it philosophically/empathically.  Only now are some of my razor sharp skills starting to just fail me on occasion… but I imagine this is just how it is… slowly the walls closing in to where you don’t notice until you are bed ridden… wondering what happened.

Just some background on me.  I am adopted.  Somehow when I say that to a bunch of faces there is a reaction like “we didn’t know”, that there should be some crimson letter pulsating on my forehead when in fact being adopted is just something I have always known to be (kudos to my folks for never hiding it, in fact I can only remember that I only ever remember knowing).  The only odd part, I guess, is that the adoption was arranged by my mother’s OBGYN with one of his other clients (in vitro was not an option in the early 70s)… so I was literally born in my hometown (JFK Hospital, Edison NJ)… so… I could have literally run into my “birth” mother at the local Starbucks 1000 times and would have never known.  I assume that it was some young woman out of wedlock who did not want an abortion.  I really don’t know the circumstances.. I honestly never cared.  Note that I did not use the term my “real” mother, because my real mother will always be Beverly Lynn Koblentz, she raised me, she gets the credit (or blame as it were…).

So… what does it all mean?  I don’t honestly know.  I am open for review.  I think we just need to remember we will all be weak at some point.  What do we do about that?  I suppose that is what defines us.  Maybe it doesn’t really mean anything in the long run, because the long run ends the same for all of us.  But if someone finds the document of my life many years from now… I would like to think I did my best even if I failed many times.

once” 6.15.18

I have to live

I have to thrive

I must

because I am alive

just this once

damn it all

I must

ignite the world

This will be an odd musical choice… but what the hell, I am an odd person in an even world… Screaming Trees “Nearly Lost You”

Nostalgia and Routine…

Nostalgia and Routine…

architecture art bridge cliff
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alarm” 6.25.18

my alarm clock is blinking “12:05”

immediate panic, late for work

but then I realize

we had a power outage


there is no way it is five past noon or midnight

who uses an alarm clock anyway

these days

I don’t, I use my phone

honestly, why do I still have the thing?

nostalgia I suppose…

routine” 4/23/18

routine routine

all the same

change the routine

to change

the sun rises to dawn

another day comes

another day gone

and now back the same

routine routine

I often ponder the comfort of things… I am eminently guilty of this as most of us most be.  I look at what once had great personal value and now seems worthless.  I suppose moments (thoughts, feelings, emotions) are harder to warehouse than hardware… but why do we cling to things? Comfort, familiarity… should we chase her? spontaneity…

So Fate and I…

So Fate and I…

“I insist”
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
I wave
oh no
she has brought a guest…


nature brook creek stream
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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 … … … ?