sometimes it is your heart that plays tricks, which is truly the vessel with which you see things ? or is it a symposium of the mind, heart and eyes… or a want for that perfect grail, that simple carpenter’s cup that can heal all? (I wrote this poem originally 6.18.18)
‘chill and cold takes pace eyes span the frozen lake life still finds a place’
one of my usual haunts (not too far from my office)… Franklin Lakes Reservoir, Franklin Lakes NJ
I uploaded a couple of short videos to my Youtube account as well. Even in the frozen lock of winter the swans still gather, this particular pair must be used to humans (feeding them I suppose) as they drifted toward me immediately as I approached, then I backed off a little, no need to fall into the icy water, granted I wanted to get some “cooler” shots but the idea of even crashing into the ice a little was enough to keep me just far enough from the shore, I did walk out onto the boat launch (which is eerie hearing all the creaking and cracking) but those particular photos wound up sucking… oh well. There is always tomorrow, well, until there isn’t one, so with that in mind I am trying to do more and exit my safe space life, the blog helps, it makes me want to venture out a bit more, I am sure I will never be Evel K or Survivorman or maybe not even the chocolate rain guy, but I will certainly be…. me.
Thoughts, pairs of eyes, your time, this time is always appreciated, so I bow and exit stage left for tonight.
‘walk upon a pond came across a pair of swans as in summer calm’
as I look out beyond
just my reach of site, this pond
for this is all I may ever see
of the oceans and seven told of seas
even this common ground
upon a leaf that has found
upon my gaze in scales not bound
a body of water clear as glass
in the palm of a leafy frond
turned tan by age
and gravity down
for within this earthly confine
waves and a shore all but mine
the life and eternal in this space
a moment of infinity to embrace
volume means nothing to scale of meaning
atoms are the fabric of all things
from a galaxy down
in my hands I do hold
all and nothing of all ever told
notes… written 1.7, I was thinking about how things are perceived through the perception of our scale, meaning how we process things because we are a certain size (and exist in a certain space), if we were atoms surely a little water in a fallen leaf would be an ocean, if we were a galaxy our planetary oceans would be a tear drop by comparison, all about scale, so to me there is universes within universes in everything but we experience what we do because of where we are by sheer chance (or destiny depending on your belief), but either way the universe , all of time, conspired for you to read this at this moment in the time of all things, of all existence as we can perceive it, my head hurts… but contemplate that for a moment (pausing, waiting for you to contemplate, c’mon, I don’t have all day, well, ok, maybe I do, but that is none of your business)
music ? I have been into binaural beats lately for all sorts of things:
Do we take the moon for granted? Our little companion in perfect orbit (synced so close to ours that one side faces us all the time). Other planets have tons of moons (Saturn has 62!) but our little friend is out just in the right place where we can have full eclipses (that is actually super rare in our little solar system – but not here on water world!) So my last post was all about musings on the moon (in poem form), so for those with a little nerdy science streak l ask… did you get all the little references? granted some are obvious, I mean we have known this moon our whole lives right? just curious… so, if you don’t want spoilers read no further, here is all the little tidbits I was thinking about writing that poem…
seven seas ? OK, obvious… Pangea ? OK, not brilliant… master of all seasons ? I was trying to invoke how we take for granted our place in a hemisphere, so the moon could care less, it is the same when the southern hemisphere is in winter or the northern hemisphere is in winter… dead eye’s watch? the moon is quite dead, nothing there… blinks as slow ? I needed some vehicle to explain the phases, so I chose sound witch travels way slower than light, and we see moonlight… born of earthly rock ? I am referencing the theory that the moon is born of a cosmic collision (one of many but I think it makes the most sense, not 100% proven obviously – this is also referenced in the line “twin composition“)… millennia of collision ? pretty obvious, the moon has been bombed by asteroids or other bodies, the evidence is there of a violent past, there was all sorts of stuff flying around the solar system when it was forming, there is still tons of stuff out in the kuiper belt and the oort cloud waiting to make impact at some point… I think the rest of the piece is pretty clear
so anyway, if you made it this far? damn.. thanks for riding down the rabbit hole with me, I appreciate all reads and eyes, and any comments are gladly taken even if you think I am a dumb stump stuck in the mud, I am probably not, but how would I know if I was ?
clearly the phenom was cool (space.com site), that’s my photo from my deck sunday night when I was walking Samantha (a black lab mix rescue dog – she’s 10-ish), but it also inspired this…
1.22.2019 the night watcher
before the seven seas
before the age of pangea
master of all seasons
a dead eye’s watch
blinks as slow as sound
born of earthly rock
millennia of collisions tell
this barren face does watch
down upon creation
ever in the shadow
of the twin composition
not privy to the tidal lives
evolving below this stoic eye
left to turn and spin in cold
destined to observe and never hold
and how many human eyes have wandered
up at you on nights like these
wondered what has come and gone
as you bear witness back to sun
from the first step of life upon this earth
cursed to watch from orbit’s perch
notes… I have a bunch of science nods in this one, I won’t uncover them all now (hey man it is late here on the E C)… I’ll get to it though and re-post, there is a bunch of nerdy stuff in there with the literary flowers.
Music ? (for those adventurous in the electronic realm) :
notes… I was watching a documentary on minimalism last night, I might not agree with all of it, but it got me to thinking, maybe I need to be a minimalist of the heart, I carry baggage way more than I should (I think, I’m not sure, but pretty sure), like material things misery can be a thing of comfort after a while, I am not saying I am miserable but I have some emotional hummel’s on my shelf as reminders, maybe I shouldn’t. I can only try to be better and remind myself moment to moment life is better than the alternative by a long shot. (this particular poem is something I wrote originally on 5.5.18 but re-wrote a bit today as I might do)
This is minimalist ambient… and brilliant (if ya ask me), let it fall on you like rain on a summer day, relief and beauty in each drop, like slow motion hands of a visual clock, no harsh sounds, just the surround, of thought.
the adults have left the room
the logic and morals swoon
a fever sweeps the floor
criminality in personality untamed
raid the liquor cabinet they say
the freedom of a free pasture
the parents are away
invite everyone you know
you’re in control
they invite everyone they know
that control relents and runs
out of control
but you have never been this popular
amazing what you will take
to feel like the king
even if
you do not notice the fleeting
those who praise you now
and drop beer cans on the lawn
raid the drawers of your mom
leave stains on the floor
smoke indoors
but for a moment you are king
with your parent’s things.
notes… lighter fare for a weekend, a stormy one at that (well at least here!)… have we all done the house party thing when the parents went away? I did, just once, and it was enough, certainly bad planning as I had to call the cops on myself! yech… so many moons ago, but I do remember those times quite well. I wrote this one back on 12.8 because I saw a beer can on a lawn on the drive home… the randomness of the muse is amusing.
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.
written 6.7.18, I was thinking of her again today so. I also seem to forget about all these things written down these months in my journals (in pursuit of the new shiny thing), and yes, that is a WHAM! reference in there (I am a child of the 80’s after all) – and a Star Trek next gen reference (I’m such a nerd). I think winter is dragging me down a bit, and work has me in loops, I am writing but I don’t seem to be finishing … ya here me my fellow writers/artists? yeah… you’ve all been there. Sometimes going back can inform going forward, well, at least that is what I am telling myself (and you apparently). I had an install in Yonkers NY last night, strange area, kind of nice but kind of not? Totally strange windy roads, total hell in the winter with the degree of the hills. Anyway, thanks for stopping by.
I think I have posted that before but eh.. who cares, I was listening to it today for some inspiration, some came, but not a full boat, oh well, we will see what happens in the morn.
“might I come to understand the composition of joy like an alchemist to turn the basest of thought to that of golden bliss”
“the exposition of joy”
I had a good amount of time on my hands this morning (quite unexpectedly), as my usually terrible commute was especially more awful this morning (to the Nth degree), for the life of me I do not understand why an accident @ 1:40 in the morning impacts my commute @ 9am… clearly something is off, but anyway, enough with my complaining, as I said I was pondering the world, our earth, the pearl of this solar system as it were, looking out at my not so remarkable field of vision, and just a feeling of calm passed over me, as I watched some random flags flowing on some random bridge bisecting the turnpike, all the infinite things that had to occur in the billions of years of this universe for this moment to become a possibility, is this bliss? No. But what is? I wonder about the material composition of joy (if there is such a thing). We know we have a limited time parking our butts on this sphere but are we aware? What is the DNA of joy? Is it walking outside on a rolling grey day? I say “rolling grey” because that is how the clouds look right now, almost as if we were on the floor of the ocean, looking up, and watching the waves roll over, in some way we are under that ocean even if only atmosphere, the ocean of air, is this accepting fate, feeling my place in this great debate of atoms ? or am I swimming in waters with too much depth, after all I am just sitting here, in my car, on my way to work, the most common of things, but how many would trade places with me? right now? so surely I should have joy, in all this, in all things, regardless of the point, or my feelings, I need to channel this, because what is the alternative?
Notes: this was written back on wednessday, I had off today for the first time in almost two weeks, so, yes I was busy and neglecting my little corner of the multiverse here lately. So anyone who read this, thanks, I hope it helps or inspires or at least makes your third toe itch. thanks.
Shades of My Garden 