Frankenstein (closer to the mark?)

Frankenstein (closer to the mark?)

blue clouds color danger
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I was pondering some things (as I am known to do) and I never really thought of Frankenstein as a direct comment on our actual literal being, our actual existence, meaning we are basically these masses of flesh imbued with an electrical driving mechanism/nervous system (I am leaving out the metaphysical soul conversation, that is another topic entirely), but in essence we are frankenstein (or franniestein, or fran-stein, don’t want to be gender myopic these days as I might be carried off into the night to never be heard from again), we are this mass of cells co-opting a host from two separate  organisms ///THEN… something jolts us into the life we are now (engaged in blogging, not sure if the the big G had this in mind but I guess omniscience would have anticipated this endeavor), so that is thrust of this piece (which I wrote yesterday), or at least that is my claim, the flag I am planting willfully…

miracle monster

dr frankenstein.
was more right than I would like to know
electrical charge
transferred to this vessel
catching lightning in a birth canal

I imagine I see the pitchforks and torches
the rages – glowing in the distance
inevitably they will come
the outcome has been written
and surely will not be undone


music?  I couldn’t resist… (click here, just a corny song, cmon...)

note: for those unfamiliar with my blog (um, most of the planet…) I post things as they are, I do not torture myself over things and rewrite stuff, these are almost always first takes (I am just horrid about working on things and write in the moment – just my way, not a comment on other (awesome) writers, it is just not me). perfection is not my thing, because I am so far from it and life is way to short to obsess, maybe I am wrong, probably, but hey, I can only do my thing and steer this ship (even if into rocks).

hey! thoughts, comments and super hot chili recipes are all appreciated !!! thanks for the eyes.

writing a tune, or thinking about it. (with you)

writing a tune, or thinking about it. (with you)

black and white keys music note
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“song”

might I write a ballad
within the frame of these words
to sing up from this page
and encompass all in song

might I manage to transform
the flight of written word
into another form
tapping of the toes

and let the letters ring out
in joy on the face of babes
upon hearing these words
in musical masquerade


notes… I was wondering if I could transfer words to song, I was pondering that and wrote … this.

Does the cold affect creativity ? and the commercialization of weather…

Does the cold affect creativity ? and the commercialization of weather…

snow covered ground
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I wonder.  I am not in the artic, nor do I pretend to compare myself to people who live in such climates (hello my canadian friends!), but I found myself creatively lethargic during this recent POLAR VORTEX!!!! (sorry had to give it the due such a rad name implies), when did all this happen ?  When did every storm need… a name? When did “wind chill” become the official temperature (for dire effect over the actual temperature) ? Well, much like news weather is now a monetized football and there is an arms race to the top of the mountain (with a social media kicker).  We have tons more information than we have ever had but yet… we still get it horribly wrong sometimes (but things just move on and no one notices), like the last snowstorm we had here in New Jersey, it was a complete breakdown, I have never seen anything like that in my life here (and we have had plenty of blizzards), and also notice that there is no more official predictions about the amount/intensity of hurricanes (dr gray made this famous) because they were so wrong, so often, good life lesson here, as advanced as we think we are we still don’t have all the answers, apply that locally (I mean to yourself, you know, the local – you, and I will do the same)

the only sound the hollow scrape
the husk of a dried-out leaf
working across the way and the walk
the cold has clamped and tightened wound
life relents to hunker down
days of hibernation pass
just a lone streak of sunlight
some singular hope of warmth
suspended animation wakes the fore
a rustle, a chirp
life still is bound


notes… happy weekend folks!  be well, be true, be you !

we are all vulnerable. we all have our weaknesses…

we are all vulnerable. we all have our weaknesses…

beach blur clouds dawn
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the beach is my refuge
my retreat
to see infinite hope and the inevitable end
where else to expect
all things converged a beginning and an end
for I might seem strong
to those looking in
but inside
broken pieces strewn about this shore
I wish for a united front
but humpty has more hands than I
from king’s men or passer’s by
I can not even remember the sight
from up upon the wall
I wish to be whole some time once again
but I am used to this, broken


notes… eventually we all just become atoms for reformation of other living things. this was written 1.2 of this new year, I am commenting on perspective and many other things, I think most are obvious so I am not going to explain this one to death (of course the temptation is there, it is my nature)

music (as I love to share my thoughts on)…

The Jelly Jam – Nature’s Girl

Remembering a time.

Remembering a time.

photo of blue sea
Photo by Ibrahim Asad on Pexels.com

music to read by: Minus the Bear – Pachuca Sunrise

This tune just carries me away in the airy feel it allays… plus when it came out I was in the Florida Keys (specifically Islamorada – I will move there in 4 seconds flat if I ever won the lottery, no offense to Key West, no, actually screw Key West, total tourist hole, which can be nice but not my speed at all).  Islamorada has it all, great lodging, amazing everything nature wise (preserves and rescue centers), fishing (some of the best in the world), hand feeding huge tarpon @ robbies (by the way have breakfast there), and the water… one of my most indelible memories was watching thunderstorms roll in off the Atlantic, in the tropics thunderstorms are very local, so I could watch the individual pods coming in with lightning lighting up the clear azure water lapping at my feet, it was like islands of thunder approaching the shore all around me, like city states floating in for battle or invasion, all of them missed my particular location, I wish I had a video to share but at the time I was only armed with my memory and flip phones were the norm, but imagine all these floating castles showering thunder and light down from their perch, in different columns approaching your position, but all around you, never towards you, as you sat in the moonlight with your feet in the clearest water you might ever see… yeah, that unreal, like a movie reel but real.

Mirages of the mind.

Mirages of the mind.

photo of person walking on deserted island
Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

wandering

in the fog of my existence

in the distance

I think, I think I see you

making out your form

tracing you with my eyes

standing there

are you watching?

waiting?

for me to finally kill my soul

the singular formality

of all that is left of it all

so to be that sacrifice

for a moment

to give

just to be sure

that it is you

standing there


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)

The NJ Frozen Tundra…

The NJ Frozen Tundra…

‘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’

Holding on, sometimes.

Holding on, sometimes.

two person holding pinkies
Photo by Valentin Antonucci on Pexels.com

reunion”

only for you

I forever hold

a reservation

in my heart

always a vacancy

at my door

regardless of season

or the passing years

I long for our reunion, my love

I wait for the time to come

by life or tomb

I will wait for you, my love.


notes… how do you re-wire yourself?  Or fix your own wiring?  Is it even possible? I know the love I speak of I destroyed by my own hands but have always felt it was still there, even if nascent, am I right that she was the “one” (probably not), so many things had to happen for us to meet, so many variables, different lifestyles (me moving 1000 miles from home), my soul feels instructed but my mind feels obstructed by the same thoughts, logic is a great thing but is by definition counter-intuitive and I remain (here).  If you are looking for answers from me, don’t, I can only provide my experience for you to process.  If that is what you are looking for to inform your world, than, welcome, and take a chair, can I offer you a drink? sit back, enjoy. (I wrote this poem 8.31.2018 but it only hit me now to post it).

music – Tori Amos – Winter

nuff said

a few quick items…

a few quick items…

blue clouds color danger
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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

The universes of scale…

The universes of scale…

healthy nature relaxation water
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

the scale of ponds

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:

Sleep, Focus, Calm

Hat tip to Rarebear for reminding me about these things and to post this.