I took the photos what feels like ages ago (here), the words came to me yesterday, well, 2 days ago now that feels like yesterday in my real time. this park is so odd, it is right on a major road with tons of traffic everyday, feet away, a little enclave hidden in plain sight, so strange.
my line of work is so nuts this time of year (12 hour days every day 6 days), i had an install tonight in Bensonhurst Brooklyn, the area has gotten so much nicer just in my short time with my company (15 years), you would think driving home (at this late hour) would be a breeze but of course there was construction in Staten Island and also on the GSP (sigh…), I can’t win sometimes.
notes… pretty straight forward fare here, on another note, I was in Harlem all day today (and night), for about the fourth day in a row (excluding Sunday, I do work Sundays, just not this one), I love re-programming a whole store worth of computers because they never invested in anti virus software (geek rage moment), that said, Harlem is transforming, gentrification is descending down upon them (I was around Frederick Douglas Blvd and 131st), is it a good thing? I’m not 100% sure, manhattan is becoming a place where rent will price out everyone not making at least 100K a year, I am watching it happen, I don’t fight things like that, I observe them, things balance out over time (in my opinion), but that doesn’t mean we can’t look, point, and discuss
notes… sometimes life is not all puppies and unicorns, I am human after all, I try to always look on the bright side, but sometimes night happens. (and yes i wrote this in June, I don’t always post as I write, sometimes I wait for a moment that is right, for me)
I could say it is a cold and rainy night, ah, that old cliche, but that is not this night, surely it is rainy, but an aberration for the season has swung the thermostat north of the usual, especially for residing inside of december, it made me wonder about cliches, sure, they exist, but then I thought about DNA, how it persists to change and combine in ways that produce a bloom of humanity composed of both chemistry and mathematics, that results in all the love and hate we might see in our lives (and all else), this little biological spark, a moment, the spark of life they say, a cliche, but in that so common of happenings, certainly all of our own beginnings, lays the vastness of miracles (or the amazing one that allows you to read this), the chance of being, of being, you… or me, or some guy named ralph in ohio, or even a grasshopper on the savannas of africa, the line is razor thin, a cliche, but touche there is truth in there, let not cliche dull your sense of the extraordinary circumstance that you are certainly alive, out of all the concoctions and combinations of the universe that had to be, all the stars that had to align (a cliche), we have, you.
notes… I was actually reluctant tonight, it is strange how inspiration works, I can not say I am in complete control, I wrote this all in one shot, a rambling, a gathering of ideas, if you are moved at all, thank you, this comes from the heart, which I am trying to recover.
I must admit, without embarrassment, that I was once quite the elite snob, we here in the northeast US surely think we are better than “fly over country” or certainly more sophisticated than “the bible belt“… these days, I am not so arrogant to look down upon the other folks of this country (or world) and check my arrogance at the door (or with the cute coat check girl, hey a guy can hit out his league sometimes), but anyway, there is a definite palpable bias on the coasts, and definitely a bias against religious folks (especially christians), but for me it is simple… if I am so damn supremely better than “x” do I have the answers ? (humble pie to the face insert here, or kick to the nads, whatever floats yer minnow). So these days I sort of laugh and/or feel bad for what I used to be, and what I see all over the place here in the Tri-State area (in local parlance that is NY NJ CT, sorry PA), I guess my perspective has changed examining the long game, do I think I am better than some people ? sure… got to be honest there, it is a walk, a destination to shed what got me here, clothing is comfort, being naked is well… naked. I am trying to get there. So anyway, my thoughts on elite behavior led to this little musing… (and I was in a serious dry spell, well, ok, not that serious but my writing has been so furious that a hiatus seems serious when it was probably just superfluous… so without further … further… (curtains pull back)
“elite room with a view” 11.29.2018
from on high the ivory tower
declarations decreed on the sound of hours
descend on down invisible ladder
a yoke upon the nary ants scrambling around
their petty lives thrive for the direction
to be passed on down
by a higher same
so rather catapults and siege
there is a courteous bow to the elite
on clouds enshrined
in an ivory spire
self appointed lieges
bloated, drunk with power
notes… not much here in hiding me thinks, but I thank… you. for reading. comments and critique is always appreciated. feel free to re-post as long as you give this host the total most credit… or else you will wake up with a third nipple… call it the mummy’s curse.
music… a friend of mine recently went out to red rocks to see a perfect circle… (jealous!), here is one of my faves doing a song @ red rocks, he usually is a DJ only but this particular tour/album he did a live band thing (this is live audio folks….respect)…
I have not been writing much (I have tons of back log but sometimes they seem like old logs in the forest I have let much moss grow on, I might lichen it to neglect), the muse is cold and hiding somewhere inside my home, where? I do not know, I’ll find the little minx, after all she loves to influence me in not so mysterious ways, so I thought I would just share a random memory of my childhood, let it be said I never know where my blog will go, nor does it matter, do you question the river as it makes it’s way to the ocean ?
and now, the musing (sans the muse, I swear she is around here somewheres): I am not sure if it is a northeast america thing, a New Jersey (pronounced Joizee) thing, or a cultural happening in my circle of growing up thing (but we all seemed to be doing this thing), this thing that I seem to be avoiding naming goes by the name of “sleep away camp”, firstly, we were conditioned prior to this experience with “day camp” (for me Hi Hi Hills in Watchung NJ , boy has it changed!), so the evil plan hatched by my parents to rid themselves of the children for the summer was afoot, I imagine, wait… I don’t want to imagine why they would want to send us away for a time, to knit ? or mow the lawn? yes… that’s it, nothing else biological entities would do, definitely not that, or any of that sort of thing, I am sure of that, that that was not the reason, surely I am a product of an asexual processes, well… I am adopted… so I am going to hold onto that regardless of the merit of actual logic, and the fact that I do not wish to see that movie, not even the outtakes, or even the deleted scenes, or behind the scenes, or hell… even the story board treatment is out of the question, now, where was I? so, day camp was a proving ground, an experiment before the grand experiment, to be sent away to a never ending place of stimulation roughly two hours north of the homestead – for the never ending summer, that inevitably, ended, but it certainly seemed much longer back then, the camp of my family choice was Camp Sequoia which goes by a different name now, but is the same gulag, you see, for the most part I did not love my time among the other fellow travelers, I loved the nature aspect, heck, I took every hiking trip I could (there is nothing better than cowboy stew on a mountain I tell you – OK legit s’mores are a close second), or the time I woke with a porcupine on my sleeping bag on Tabletop (they have bad breath, and huge buck teeth, but love american cheese, no shit, hand fed the little bastard after he climbed up an inadequate for escape tree), but back to the point… um, yes, sleep away camp, a vacation for the parents, there was only one day they visited in what seemed like a forever clip (they did send contraband, which made me feel all sly), in fact it was just basically six weeks, funny how time really is different then and now, of course that is nonsense, my perception of said time is the difference, it almost seems like a different life, disconnected from this one, so, wait, I have to go back to the post origin… part of sleep away camp was “canteen”, our time for free for all, basically an hour in this one hut that had goodies and one arcade game… you waited all day for the prize like a dog giving paw, you walked up to the window with immense anticipation, as you could score a sugar bar (I mean what is candy if not that?) so for that moment I used to score, a charleston chew and then saunter over to the Mr Do cabinet (the only game in town as it were)… slip in my twenty five cents (um, a quarter) and piss off about 30 other kids because I was the real Mr Do deal, life is strange, the things you remember clear as day, I love that game, I do not so much love the cavities wrought by the charleston chews however…
I wrote these in the same day, different themes, different emotions, ah, screw it, here they are….
“sitting, looking at a tree I planted, now fall” 11.10.2018
the slanted rays of the day reveal
as they pass through
radiant red of my japanese maple’s palms
also reveals
the fissures and cracks
the spectrum
of the collaboration
of this celebration
of death
Photo by Acharaporn Kamornboonyarush on Pexels.com
“daylight savings” 11.10.2018
trying to find that clock
the one with the extra hour
to steal an hour back
the only time that will allow reclamation
anymore than just this spare hour
or the mind will know the trick
notes… my lovely japanese maple is a fraud actually, it is some hybrid, I found out quite by accident, the first winter after the planting we were hit with a vicious storm, to the point where it broke the young tree in half, where as there was once these deep purple leaves of a weeping bow short tree, after the break (I was glad it was not a death blow) an offshoot grew – taller, and with deep crimson fingers, that was many years ago, but it is a great juxtaposition against my native tall maples in my front yard these days, hard to tell when it is really fall until I see this maple wane in the weight of the coming winter, and it is in direct view when I sit on the steps of my porch, obscuring my view with so much rose colored leaf glasses, so that is what I was observing, as I have said, this is haiku to me (feel, not style).
on #2… sort of folly, a bit of my Twain streak, but also a realization I had, those times we look at clocks and are fooled by those with the incorrect time (as “incorrect” as that can be – does time really care that we peg lines on it?). We pine for that extra minute in the morning etc. I wonder if this current stock of youngin’s is as dependent on clocks – sure they look at their phones every 4.29 seconds… but for the clock ? and watches are mere decoration these days? I wonder what cartier would think… but anyway, I thought it would be fun to illuminate our silly dance with times and clocks… if it succeeds, maybe not. who am I but to share my thoughts, with you.
thanks as always, I am trying to stay in thanks as a state rather than a reaction, this is truly a great world even with all the problems. to me, to contemplate all the factors that had to happen in the universe just to make this dumb post is just an amazing overwhelming thing… keeping that in perspective… that is another thing.
music… so relaxing ambient (older but relevant imo)
Surely this is a time to unwind, one of the big American holidays leading (and perhaps the actual door) to winter, christmas and what not around the corner (do I need to be PC and mention every single holiday? nah, not me.), since the weekend is the time to relax, curl up on the couch and watch some TV (like a parade no one really cares about but we watch anyway), I like to post some simply digested pieces (get it, turkey day humor), maybe even just one line thoughts, or orphans as it were… so without further delay (I know, you must be waiting with such baited breath)…
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
5/16/18
robins and rabbits
do not seem to mind
each-other’s company
on this little patch of mine
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com
5/18/18
can you feel the sky breaking
cracking at the dawn
I can no longer hide my disgrace
within the passing storm
Photo by Dhyamis Kleber on Pexels.com
5/20/18
your eyes
are the only ones
I have ever
truly, looked into
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
5/22/18
to know her
is a song,
stanzas upon my heart.
for eternity
I knew, right from the start.
these notes
they spare my soul
from the looming dark.
6/6/18
humanity, these days
souls on a billboard
on a road to nowhere
Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com on Pexels.com
6/14/18
sunlight
moonlight
fraternal twins;
sunlight bathes
illuminates
light of day;
moonlight owns
the night
in the phases;
the rise on tides
waxes and wane and disappear
crimson high, chasing the dawn of genesis light
eternal dance
partners three
notes… just on the last one, by partners three I was referencing the earth, moon and sun which is what the universe was for those just a few or so hundred years ago, kind of a play on perspective and science (and poor Galileo) , I thought about referring to all celestial movement but since I was being local (in a solar system sense) I thought this was the way to go. although most of these poems are dated 6 months back (their birth), I did alter them here and there today… maybe I am getting better at that ? I don’t know, I can only post and hope it connects with you, the reader. And in this time of thanks, well… thanks. I am not one to fish for compliments, it may sound arrogant but I don’t care (if you know me in the ‘real’ world as especially my coworkers can attest), I do not do things for others behest, I do them to do them, to do the right thing, which is not always rewarding in the outward sense, but fulfillment should be an inner strength, something that feeds your soul at some level, not some exercise in how many likes I can generate, would that be nice? I am a realist, and not a bullshit artist, so yeah, sure I look at the likes, but that is exactly the hook I have to avoid… to enjoy the process, it is almost like dangling a shiny thing in front of the real prize, the real prize being real praise and admiration without prostrating myself in front of strangers behind a keyboard (ahem, you, reading this)… in summation I give thanks to whatever is out there, to you, to anyone I connect with, we are here in a blink and it seems that time has gone so fast, maybe I can share my value with my posts and enlighten just a few folks, isn’t that better than most ?
music… when I am contemplative I tend to go ambient (or classical), today I bend ambient…
Shades of My Garden 