with the eyebrows of an elder scolding, he froze there like a thousand years of evolution ingrained in this moment of instinct, he thinks survival, mama bird was not as impressed, and she dive bombed my head, I tried explaining to her that I was the least of her worries, but alas, my mocking-speak is not what it once was, she clearly did not understand, so I left the little one, to fate.
oh yeah, details… this is in the back of my office, the other day, just a photo from my phone, I really need to bring my SLR around and get crazy shots when I can, but I still like this one… thoughts, likes, follows, and the like are all appreciated, if you read this far then I guess I did an OK job on this post at least…
how would I know if I am hallucinating right, now, or dreaming, or is this my mind interpreting the stimulus around me as best as this evolved design can handle, I suspect there are mathematical equations in the leaves, calculable variables in the way each blade of grass has sprung – and not sprung, am I really seeing this the same as you, on a physical level? how can I ever know, I wonder if I might borrow your eyes, ears and tongue someday, to experience the world truly by the only true thing, comparison, how do I know something is “more” green of I have not seen the other green, or many green.
I wear glasses, does it make the world clearer, or alter my designed perception as extracted from the DNA pod of my mother’s womb, all those year’s ago, was I meant to see the world near-sighted all this time, so my imagination of far things would be, just that, imagination, why is there higher value in rote homogenization? or should we embrace what makes us less perfect or same average in pursuit of our own perception of this reality? a unique perspective from a seemingly similar vessel.
I stare deeply at a flower, it is not moving, but -it -is, at some basis, there are millions of particles that make up one petal, and they are in petal in perpetual motion, I just can not see this movement, so, in this we assume the whole as solid based on observation, or at least our perception of solid, not concerned that we are definitely not seeing what is actually going on, the reverse would be true if we were a speck on the moon, looking down at the earth, no idea about the billions of humans moving about, but surely that micro world is vivid and alive, not dead as it looks from this above, so perspective, time, location determine which version of the world we see and to what extent, as it spins blindly under our feet.
so, am I hallucinating?
I’ll never know…
Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com
notes: My SSD died on my incredibly fancy laptop yesterday, left me in a lurch as I was on call for work today, the irony is that I wanted an SSD for a few reasons: reliability, space and cost, in short, not to be totally tech nerd, SSDs have no moving parts, so in theory they should have less risk of failure than standard hard drives, offer plenty of space in a small form (they basically look just like memory chips), and also cost less, so a $120 part halted my whole operation, it is warrantied no doubt but still the computer is only just over a year old, and it has barely left the house, serves me right for always coveting an alienware PC (now owned by Dell really), I guess being an old school PC guy (my first computer was an apple 2C fer crissake), alienware was always this thing, I have built my own desktops for some years now, I should have stuck with that… although I have to say all the bells and whistles on my alienware laptop are pretty damn cool… and the 17 inch screen is super nice (4K), so, today I dropped $600 on an acer nitro 5, pretty nice, I’ll keep it until my front line laptop is back up, and probably give the acer to my niece or nephew as random gift, have I gotten into that before ? I like to buy them things, not ever on their birthdays, I don’t do that, I buy things when I think about them, and I tell them so, does it matter ? I don’t know… but I have grown tired of the usual a long time ago, so I do what I want for the most part these days, or at least I am telling myself that, true happiness might break some eggs, the world, and life will surely go on…
if ever there was a day, a day to ride the light from dusk ’til dawn, today would be that day, and so it was, and so I did, I would love to tell you it was some great plan of mine, some great scheme, but I would be lying, just the random circumstance of life forcing my hand, would I be droll if I still said “this was a long day”…
that would be both empirically accurate and anecdotally emphatic, because of the way it felt and this is, truly the longest day of the year by actual time measure, but other yardsticks poked their rule-y heads up this day, I had a store to open on the East Side, New York City that is, waking up at 5am to get a jump, showered, the dog walked, rye toast in tow, in the car by 5thirty, cruising, the sun not rising, at least visibly, only rain clouds writing the morning forecast on the canvas out before me, and then, then the faucet opens, full tilt, pouring, all of a sudden my dreams of beating the traffic become being the traffic, I get over the bridge and onto the FDR, I can not say what the “F” stood for this morning but it certainly was not Franklin…
so the freeway was doing it’s best impression of a parking lot, so to have a shot at being on time I hopped off on Park Avenue, making sure to avoid the guy with the sign in the middle of said FDR (a very common occurrence), cut across, 40 blocks down, all the while the rain beguiling me with change of pace, a constant game with my wipers engaged at the right speed, so I arrive, sort of on time, I must admit I scoped out a local coffee joint to try, so I loaded up on a latte, got over to the store grand opening, pouring, pouring rain, a grand total of ten customers in two hours, does not make the time fly I tell you, so the time passes, mostly all goes well, that chore doused, store secure on their own now, noon, around the corner I walk into the parking garage, slap down $38 buckaroos for 5 hours of parking, a guy drives up next to me standing, and rolls down his window “hey, I will only be an hour”
I don’t recall wearing my garage attendant uniform, I look down and check anyway, nope, not today, besides I am holding a mouse and keyboard, not exactly common garage guy fare, from my experience at least, so I cheerfully offer to take the car off his hands (a spankin’ new mercedes sedan no doubt), it would be a nice upgrade after all, he realizes his mistake, and is very apologetic, I wasn’t offended anyway, with that charade passed I make my way back to HQ in jersey knowing there is a pile of files waiting for me to wade through and down, unfortunately, I am quite right about that pile, except little fires keep popping up and I am brigaded to those tasks while the pile grins at me, gleeful, for it knows it has gained a temporary stay of execution, the governor’s call has come in, for today, at least, admittedly the time passes faster in this bowl of hectic, I hardly notice the rain has hopped on a cruise out to sea and given way to delightful golden rays, six o’clock rolls around, predictably, right at 6, I figure over 12 hours is quite enough off this already…
Photo by David Skyrius on Pexels.com
so here I sit, the day has turned about, this morning was like a dreary monday dragging and now I am leaped to an ending friday, a perfect 70 out, truly a tale of 2 sittings, the sun is slowly sinking, the wind is warmly chilling, two baby jack rabbits are grazing, even the usual rambunctious crowd of local birds are just listening, I look out, at this familiar scene, I loosen up my mind, my body, I let my limbs drop limp, I look out and pretend I am a leaf on one of my trees subject to whim, letting the breeze rock me back and forth, to and fro, swaying, filling my sail as the wind sees fit, setting my compass to none, just letting the ocean of air wash over me in waves, with each moment draining away my worldly cares, whisking away the baggage from earlier in this day, as the curtains close, on this, the longest day… the solstice, from dawn to dusk witness, the solstice.
notes… (porch series) I write these posts in a certain way, I scribble them down in one of my notebooks, try to figure out my horrid handwriting (best done if I type it in the night I write frankly), these are pretty close to rough drafts, one drafts, one take, whatever you might like to label it, I edit it a bit as I post, but that is it… pretty raw, just the way I work these days, I wish I could just run a cable into my mind for you and give you a remote and let you drive… but this is the best I got at the moment, so enjoy, and thanks for the eyes, I appreciate one look, any look, 1 million looks would be nice, but would it make my post any better or any worse ? nah… and I am cool with that, thanks.
6.12.19 if –
the after life
is –
and I might die today
I would wish to see you tomorrow
with you
only you
my lost
my love
6.8.19 “self inflicted“ I have been led to believe that time heals all wounds so how does that explain, you from fortune cookies to books wiser than me from veteran mouths with far more experience and yet-
wounds leave scars as tales of reminder sign post detours but this, this is alteration my self inflicted sentence even the blame feels empty against the missing to never be honored by your love again penance is no medicine age is no doctor for you are in my heart for all ever after.
notes… I am kicking around the idea of making lost.love.letters a regular thing, I write a lot about her because I think about her a lot, it is something that I can not shake, at least for now, so… maybe I will do it as a thursday thing, thunder day, because that is what is in my heart. (of course technically I am posting on friday… but cmon…)
“a grand scene“ within the confines of hours cherry blossoms to the slaughter dashed petals in a downpour littered about the earthen floor, a grand scene laid out with random care cast out runes read upon them the fate of these fallen blooms
notes: cherry blossoms are a big thing here in NJ and also DC, but they are very temporary, that is what I was writing about, it was like walking up on a murder scene, all of a sudden, in one afternoon from full bloom to all the petals trounced on the ground, it made me think of some CSI scene, yellow tape and all (poem written originally 5.21, slightly adjusted tonight).
“star“
into the sky
and I did catch a streaking star
I could not gauge how high how far
so frantically I searched
for a sacred wish
not wanting to indulge in the selfish
needs of immediate intent
but is that not the first instinct:
a wish for more wishes
a wish for fame
money beyond riches
eternal domain
the love of women
the lure of flesh
all manners and perversions
entwined in sex
the consummation of all sins
or-
will pure light come forth
and may that be my guide
let now the wish be
for the life
of another.
“upon these waves of tall grass swaying scratching the back of the passing breeze might I ride my palm along the top soft tails in the warming sun, and feel each blade give and bend to gently slide back into place again for this bounty is not mine to hold unto the great mother to keep her own”
notes… ever drive by a field and want to reach out and ride your hand across the grass…. yeah… that was the genesis of this….
there are some nights where I can just watch the clouds, flowing by like a lazy, winding river through vast swaying grassy plains, slowly pushing – towards the east in procession, yet another part of the sky is more like a river of smoke, shadows of random forms of no form at all, the pace, the pace, the pace is hypnotic, slow but methodic, the only break, breaks are the occasional diamonds and triangles of a solitary bird flight off to some local destination, here and there, but mostly this is all encompassing one long lone exhale, I am gradually forgetting the day, the work, the traffic, it is all dropping off somewhere behind me, as I stare, and contemplate – the very air, the atmosphere itself, letting enough space in the space between my molecules, my atoms expanding and rising until I am that loose connection of clouds, slowly, calmly, meandering, wandering across that evening sky, sliding up over like a blanket being tucked for a child’s lullaby, before the sleep, I’m at ease, floating freely, loosely, high above the grandest trees, as a cloud, a river of gas of varying degrees, I’m at peace, I am part of the world no matter how small a piece, I am at peace.
this is part of my porch series… just sit out on the porch and let things flow… barefoot in shorts these days as the weather has been a friend… tonight’s musical selection (linked earlier) is Eric Johnson – Arithmetic, a mellow tune, a nice sentiment, fit my mood…
as always, your thoughts, insults, barbs, thanks, likes, suggestions, they are all welcome, I take requests… whatever that means… (I guess I will hash that out when a request comes in….)
(1)
I must admit I had all this weird anxious energy today, anxiety over seeing family? I suppose, I could not explain it to myself and then after much self inspection I just let it go, this was not my wedding after all, and frankly it is only a cousin (whom I love and watched grow up quite literally so don’t get me wrong about relation), I like to pride myself on preparation, or I tell myself that, so as usual I was doing some last minute scrambling today, things I had planned.. but… eh… had not quote gotten to as of yet, so about an hour before I had to leave I decided to get my ducks in a row, being the semi strange artistic type (wrapped in the guise of everyday guy) I eschew greeting cards and write something personal regardless if it will be read or tossed for the cashola enclosed in the envelope, I have seen and attended enough affairs to see how the cards come in, and how many of the same thing pass through, I want to be memorable, for at least a slice of this life, so I give it a try, I can not hand write letters.. well, I CAN but my handwriting requires translation, it is horrendous to say the least, so I need to type things out, (and also this poem if you recall, part of my gift to the lucky couple as well as some mo-net), I do not use my home printer too often, so perhaps it might be lacking in TLC… or any C, but of course the thing starts with this grinding noise, I start to sweat and my temp is rising, I panic, I want to scream, something is wrong here… and I do not have time for this (the realization that this could have been avoided if I didn’t wait until the last minute is not yet a humorous thought to me as it is now writing this), I open every door, blow out the sensors with one of those air thrower can things, and nothing… DOA printer, I can’t just buy some dumb card… I just… can’t! I recall I have a another printer, sort of shoved in a corner like so much a wallflower, it should work, I think, I hope, I pray to the inkjet gods (they exist, their temple is Staples), so I hook the badboy up and plug in the USB cable with trepidation, the seas parted, the light of one thousand lights shone down, puppies cuddled with kittens, and magically, with great glee my printer queue was emptied and my ears were treated to the sweet whir whir of an inkjet head purring back and forth, ah, crisis averted, my words will be delivered and all will be right with the world (in truth I used fancy parchment looking/feeling paper to print my poem on and it jammed a few times, but that is quite a boring detail so I’ll exclude it), so, poem and personal note in hand (and cashier’s check) I was all set to go.
(2)
I had to drive my folks up to the gig, they are up there in the age race now and do not drive at night usually, and my mom does not drive at all anymore actually, no big deal, they have done enough for me over the years (hello diapers, they got me there for now) that Driving Mr and Mrs Daisy parents is the least I can do, as I said earlier I like to plan, I also like to not be a slave to GPS and know where the heck I am going, oy, I forgot the little address card for the place on the back of which I scribbled (in my pictogram handwriting) the directions, it is a pretty straight shoot but… there is comfort in the paper you wrote all this down on, no problem, cool, I got this, I memorized the directions (because I am such a head case), I just hope my memory is solid, as it turns out my memory served me well, I still must admit my self doubt in the whole thing, I would rather have the life vest when sailing the ocean, but… I’m not in the ocean and honestly I could pull over and google the damn place (easy to say now when I am out of non man non embarrassment mode), so we arrive, Valhalla Lake Club, never heard of it, never been, a really nice part of the state (you know, the Garden state, damnit), seriously we have some sections of Jersey that people would not believe, and heck I am a bad steward for my state for not knowing every inch and cranny, either way, no valet, we are waiting there, the minivan in front is doing all sorts of things, we can’t pass by on the driveway as it is too narrow, wtf are these people doing ? minutes seem like hours in these circumstances, plus I have no idea what the parking situation will be like, I start to get frustrated, minutes pass, thoughts run wild trying to figure out what the hell is going on with these people in front of me, thankfully no one is behind me, that would have upped the ante and I surely might have honked the horn, tick tock tick tock, wtf is taking so long? and then it hits, life with a lesson interjects, the minivan lowers like in a rap video, and a gentleman is escorted out in a wheel chair, if there ever was a court case for patience and a jury to convict, it was this, I was glad I relaxed the temptation to honk, I mean really, how was that ten minutes of my life real pressure? or even worth a worry for a second, I must remember that, lesson received good earth.
(3)
the rest was standard fare, not knowing where to stand, where to sit, the club members who were enjoying the day on the lake were out enjoying the day on the lake, it seemed odd, all these dressed up folks and on the periphery having a day at the beach (lake) as it were, granted they have probably seen this show before, clearly the place needs to do this as part of their business model and probably helps keep membership prices lower, at some point, some of the members seemed interested and some seemed non plussed, as did those at the wedding proper, I kind of enjoy the awkwardness in moments now, not personally, but observing same gives me some weird pleasure, seeing life interacting I suppose, weddings are strange now, growing up there was clear religious definition, this was more just celebration of the union outside of any religious overtones or circumstance, ‘readings’ by a couple of relatives, bad poetry (sorry, I am a critic), and some other well intention-ed stuff that sounded like children banging on pots and pans to this jaded literary ear, I admit I am a snob at times when it comes to that, I try to see and hear the every-man aspect of things, but I just can’t all the time, I am just not that, we are what we are, so readings aside there were vows, and stories by the ‘pastor’ (well, he is really a friend of the groom/bride chosen to reside on the moment), my cousin and her mate are truly in love, I have been to many weddings, I have seen love in many forms (some I would wish to un-see from the internet but this is not a time for that), they glowed when together, I will not lie and say it brought a tear to my eye, I could perceive it, I could feel it emanating from them, I know it because I had that once, when love is easy, and just there, like the warm sun in the morning, this is where logic fails me, and faith takes over, or hope, or both, I feel the dream again, was this supposed to be me at some point? was this my dream? I am lost in the moment, no need to video this, I am here in this, really experiencing the moment, and I feel happiness and joy for them.
(4)
the reception phase, the worst part, I kind of liked the mix of the cocktail hour, no set pieces, a few food options (excellent calamari by the way), the bar cleared out after fifteen minutes so I could grab an amstel, we are outside by a lake in the breeze, what can beat that? now we are inside, cozy place, cool lighting, is that really the dance floor? this makes me feel the most isolated, I do not like the music, the boom boom typical tunes are just not me anymore (or ever), they are antithetical to everything I enjoy, I used to be that floor devil ripping up the dance moves, but I have zero interest in that now, and I do not want to pretend anymore, I don’t want to pretend for anyone, I am not unhappy at all, I am taking it all in, I am truly happy for my kin but the whole wedding thing, this whole wedding thing, I have been there and back again, seen it, done it, seen it better, done it better, what’s the point? I am truly happy for my cousin, but in this microcosm I just don’t get the whole slavery to the same thing, the same wedding tropes, I get it, it is probably me, I would have been much happier if after the ceremony they said strip down and everyone jump in the lake, paddle-board, kayak, sit by the fire-pit and shoot the shit… that’s more real to me, does not make it right, and regrettably is not good for the older generation who we must venerate because we are soon them, but I yearn for something different, even if, even if… this was my dream at some point, so who am I to suggest what they should do, at some point that dream was mine, meet the girl of your dreams in college, date for nearly a decade, become husband and wife, have kids… it all sounds familiar and now so foreign to me, I had the girl, I had the life, and then it all crumbled, and here I am, enjoying filet mignon (rare) at my younger cousin’s wedding, where did things go wrong ? or did they at all? I imagined her here with me, sharing this with her, as I expected to share everything with her forever, but that is gone, and maybe that showed on my face, because it is certainly what is in my heart, but again, I am an optimistic person, a happy person, but the celebration tonight felt so foreign to me, I just felt like an alien among people I knew, even my brother who I thought looked like a buffoon, but he is engaged and has found a mate, so who is the fool.
(5)
I drove my folks home, interesting conversations when they are both tipsy but also not so much as they are losing their edge of mind. and this leads me to this, this post, all scrambled out right now write now…
wrote all this just now, first draft, I’ll revisit it tomorrow, but it is close to accurate…
Shades of My Garden 