crows on the rooftop there- what are they trying to tell me? (light signals switch, black eyes twitch- looking) they are not permanent residents at least not in this noisy cloister murder contingent; occupying whole oak tree and surround what is so special about this house (now) what draws them so here and near why do they understand better than I they possess any land, under, the flown sky
notes… sometimes, OK, often I look out the window… and wonder, what draws a crowd, what is the call, what am I missing? something? or nothing more than a dinner bell? or deeper?
no, quite literally just moments ago or an hour, who can be sure the skies were black with rage and blazing flash rain highway sideways, pelting the windows
so temporal, all this so trapped in moments, we become
for oh sun, now shines how light is cast against darkness in contrast I feel the despair leeching out of very my skin as if being pulled out string by string by an invisible, palpable, force of hand – yes and quite suddenly I am transformed long forgotten, the storm
‘leprechaun sure- as far as I know been called a ‘lesserchaun’ perhaps I’m lesser than some; I have my enchanted coin but it’s not minted of any gold but my luck runs just the same on the hot side of cold‘
I almost imagined this one as a conversation, one sided, of what a leprechaun might say to someone in passing, the ‘little people’ but yet they are magical and the pride of rainbows, so, I was trying to weave in playful nature and also deception in a little ditty… I can not explain what compels me to write such things, I just do…
are we fibers or just strings or links in a chain I wonder as I hold you closer I imagine we begin to combine at the molecular level can we now pass through each other? or simply merge for a moment two spun as one no wonder the separation feels as this does
notes… lost love letters staccato style (as I call it), I am very aware of rhythm in my words and flow… maybe it is all in my head, sure, but those who get it are wired into my frequency, I do not expect that to be everyone, just you, so thanks for the time, any and all comments are appreciated
“and what I know of the silence of love speaks volumes”
notes… haiku? not sure, not meant to be, strictly, that is, this is something I woke up this morning and this was scribbled (OK, typed) in notepad on my little laptop friend here, I don’t even recall writing it, but since I am a music wonk it has beats… 5 / 5/ 3, funny how the universe works such things out (hat tip, universe, in waves)
perhaps this is causality and I am the casualty of- the rain a grey veil of gloom over even silver linings wane not some days not all days today, one of those lingering an insidious thought invades, breaks the levy ‘I have nothing’ or feel that way perhaps only because I ‘had’ I can not stop the swell, the surge the rush back, a rampaging flood now converges that a bound fist in my abdomen confirms my eyes well, we all want to travel back, to rewrite; and we do, in a way, down that path, in our mind but know, always know the foundation the truth is in the earth, hands clench this the cruelty of the steadiness of dirt support of life and burial of the dead roots as far reach as heaven, up into the air roots buried, anchors, always, memories a library, a curated collection rows and rows of known, wanton forgotten I am alone- most days this is not a bother some days a marker, a visitor, my own host I scrape for false shelter draw out the homilies on my lips all the words I left out a mantra to my burden to wait out the storm and pretend some more.
note… to any new people (as I am seeing more traffic), hello you (waving), my work is off the cuff, one off, unless otherwise noted, perfect? no way man…. but I post it… and here it is… when I write the thing it is visceral, you get me facial, that’s all… and if you like it … great, if not, also great, I appreciate the read, the time, your eyes, thanks… we are existing right now at this time…. which is a miracle, billions of the years of the universe have brought us together… for corn dogs… well, er, at least that or more I hope, so all your comments, recipes, thoughts, coherent rants and advice for my garden – are appreciated. I am the bamboo whisperer… I tell ya…