“tired
jaded by the sun
must recall
the rush of life
in all forms
and regain
the wonder
the miracle
forward”
notes… just something that struck me, life has a routine to it that we get used to, but we shouldn’t forget how amazing it is that we are actually here, at this moment, I try to hold on to that, that amazing fact…
the rain has gone but the song of the storm still plays a heavy dirge upon theses lands (as I observe), there is always these storms this time of year, where the sky is utterly gray and unforgiving, not pockets of lightning, not roving cloud wombs birthing thunder, rains that once quenched the glorious hot pavement of summer, so distant now but from just weeks ago, all the demons and reasons creeping back in, in this season, the summer light kept them hidden, locked in their quarters, but now as the trees are being undressed, their hiding places no longer needed, they are coming out, to stalk the night as it grows longer and longer, chewing, gnawing at the edges of the day morsel by mouthful, a crescendo descends upon the devil’s night, as candy and subtle mayhem ignite imaginations, shadows and flickering candles dancing in jack smiles, the world is retelling the ancient story, one it knows well, sending emissaries and portents to further the tale, and should we pay mind, or pay strict attention, details and devils may rise, all in the slight of hand concealed by an autumn storm as it rages in from the ocean on familiar northeastern tract, we bustle about under all this happening almost unaware, this transforming, but yet it dictates our path, changes trajectories whether we perceive them or not, from one leaf down to the whole lot, soon, soon a blanket will come, not of comfort but stillness cold, as the world prepares and truth be told, not mere whispers but whipping winds, change is coming and has already been.
music... Badlands – Winter’s Call
notes… thanks to all who read my words, all thoughts, comments, recipes, music recommendations and everything else is appreciated, I write this blog for me but if it helps anyone else? I’m cool with that, thanks.
taking this moment to study and enjoy the subtle-ness and suppleness of this cool breeze, letting it caress me, wrap itself around me, swirl undress me to my core, while still clothed, how this wind in my hand allows me to wind down, the gears, to a grinding rusty sparking halt, to full inhale and breathe deep, to realize the world has had me wound going at an accelerated pace, all day, for no real rational reason, I suppose this is manifest stress destiny, allowing your gears to be flung wide west open to please the demon of production, of work that is never done and will still be here long, undone as I am off into the next stage of life, how easily we get wrapped into the tow throng of the assembly line, I suppose it is all in the deft trap of routine, the schedule, the drive, the morning coffee, the vacant hellos to some, the longer hellos to those that know you, or at least know ‘the work you’, and those that are actually friends outside the confines, the walls all determined by time cards and paychecks, a structure construct, the contract codex of the workplace, the pace, a race, to nowhere or upwards rung for more money less time both in years and in life as time forwards by, the gears shift seamlessly and to all speeds, speeds by so rapidly without seams, no fun mondays blur into wtf wednesdays to gateway fridays and weekends relief, the summer is gone and I barely had time to admire her smile, warmth, and sun, I do not miss the bugs however, to sit out on nights like these, this comforter of a breeze, much cooler than has been, not enough to chase me in, or out of my shorts, my toes are growing cold but I still prefer bare-feet for now, the dew on the lawn is certainly cold, not a foil anymore to a blazing sun’s gaze, but for at least a few more precious days I can pretend to feel what the summer was while awaiting the growing cold, such is the nature of things, such is nature, the pace is the same, year in and out, the seasons roll in and out, the rest of the natural world flows as the river natural goes, but do we ?
(part of my porch series… which I try to keep up with, when it happens but the page is not always 100% up to date, but I try my best when I have time, so thanks in any regard..)
a wheel
is not just a circle
there is structure
there is spokes
there is direction
paths and roads
notes… strictly a writer nerd thing here, ever just right something and totally forgot you wrote it into existence ? yeah, this is one of those, just something like a common sense poem, a throwaway of sorts, simple and short, like haiku but not…
music ? ok, I’m on that…
a prayer to know
when is the time
to surrender to life
when is the time
to conquer this life
and to then know and tend
the vast grounds between
a prayer for the small birds
whose confidence I can not seem to garner
for may they find what they need
in this coming barren season
although there is no need
for I see them every spring
notes… for those who might be new to peruse my blog, I use ‘prayer’ in the non religious sense, if you want to use it in the religious sense, cool, I have no problem with that, I think everyone looks to the sky at some point and asks for something sometime, I was an atheist once upon a time but these days I want to believe there is something else but have to accept the possibility there is nothing and I will simply disappear from all existence when I am gone, there is no hope in that end, so I choose hope over logic in that regard, does it quell my mind and fears ? no… but it is better than utter despair, so that is where I am at, prayer is not a harmful thing, try not to make it selfish, I think that is the right ring… (and I do post other ‘prayer’ works, check out my collections & series page).
Music:
the sky is the portrait of a blaze, moments like these there are colors that are difficult to even explain, like flames of deep reds and purples blending and lurking on the horizon, I might imagine how this all looked as I look back with an ancient eye, clouds, white clouds, like angels racing off to the battle, the blaze, the hordes of the underworld that await, the unearthly glow, for what else could this site be? just some random formation of moisture, a construct of nature, weather conspiring to ignite imagination, why lose the spectacle of this all, indulge in the genesis of how stories unfold and are told in the night sky, but not every night, not every night is the show such as this, not every brilliant magenta hue is seen dancing as the curtains of night unveil,the sprites of streaking white angels dive off into the narrowing event horizon, as that lone beacon rises, only three quarters full but bright as any moon recorded, and before a moment’s breath, the clouds are gone, dipped and passed somewhere out of mortal sight, lost to the lands of kings and gods, seemingly swallowed by the ever motioning night, the grand scheme of color carousel has faded out, just the moon, with a spurious eye, casts light from up on down, a reflection of the sun upon the face, ever looking down from that lonely space, the night watcher compels… sleep.
notes… part of my porch series, the sky just had a certain look, for only a few minutes, I pulled my car over, and the muse planted a seed, and it took, and grew into … this…
enamored
if my words were silk sheets
wrapped around your naked skin
sultry eyes, captivation
luring time as clock hands spin
step outside
my own dimension
desire two makes one
by my own extension
hairs on end
at attention
notes… a slightly different tact this week kind of like last week but not, remembering the absence of presence, waking up every day next to her, seems like someone else’s dream these days and certainly not reality or my own memory anymore…
erudite in the language of the sun
conversations with solar implications
warming rays fade in my waning days
might I stride along your cosmic road
and sit stridently still upon your shore
to witness in glory bathe and full force
waves strip instant of my magnetic core
and for once before my skin burns tender flesh
for the absolute briefest moment might I instead
experience the form that binds and breathes
of all of the universe as neutrinos speed
through – and – passed
notes… kind of playing around with various concepts, sometimes I just think about things like what it would be like to walk up to the sun to experience the full on force, because I marvel at how the Earth survives in such a harsh environment, if we weren’t exactly X distance (give or take) from the sun, had enough water (comets?), had a strong magnetic field (which creates the aurora borealis) and one huge asteroid decided to land in the Yucatan and wipe out millions of years of dinosaur rule…. that and some sweet lovin’ that went down by my folks and their folks before them before them before them etc…. wow, it is crazy to think about all that had to happen in the universe just for me to be here typing away on my blog… so, yeah, that’s the space I was in writing this… in case you were not wondering… thanks, as usual, comments, likes, spitballs, old tab cans and general flotsam is always appreciated (except for you, the one reading this, I’m kidding of course… or am I? (raised eyebrow provocatively) ) …
music to contemplate the stars… Humanmeshdance – Wet Moon
“am-track“
a train comes screaming through
the local shop
the tracks rumble
inside my head space
how did I not notice the construction
must have transpired
through the night
when did I become
just part of the line
a place to get on
no longer a destination
notes… this was started/inspired by my daily drive on route 27 in Edison, I saw some construction on the railway line into NYC which is quite popular here, Edison has boomed due to the fact that so many roads and hubs pass through my town… I say my town because I grew up here, I have seen it change and grow immensely, not a bad thing, just a different thing, metropark was once the biggest train station in the state, I bet it still is volume wise, but anyway this poem was in my brain and full of metaphors about change and progress…. with the train station in mind.. or mind…. (and AMTrack is the NJ area service), this is staccato rhyme/rhythm, count the beats…
“each and every step
is a battle
in a fight
in which
gravity
will eventually
win.”
notes… gravity is the weakest force, think about it… you, a lowly human can lift your feet, you can lift a rock or anything else within reason, but gravity is the epitome of determination, erosion, like death, gravity always wins…
in terms of the poem I was going for staccato form… from the drop of the word ‘step’ it is on a metronome beat.. you can count the beats if you like, one one thousand, two one thousand…. yeah, I think about that stuff sometimes….
music? Interstellar (main theme)
I loved the movie, and one of my big pet peeves about movies is having a memorable theme… this is one of those…
Shades of My Garden 