I wish
like a bee
that with your sting
you had died
perhaps then
I might be satisfied
but your venom remains
poison in these veins
for all time.
notes… not sure why these words came to me (but they surely did), I was stuck in horrendous traffic this morning to work (2 hours to go 26 miles), so maybe that was the venom, the title is a play on the phrase anaphylactic shock which occurs if you are allergic to bee stings, sure, I could have just hidden that and let a few people catch it… maybe if I had 50,000 followers I might do that, but at this point I am the flower, and you are my pollen spreader, so in the interest of well… interest, I post as such.
winter is certainly more than a visitor now, the last heroes of the fall have succumb (even the stubborn ones), so many familiar things, I’m noticing, more these days, paying attention to the details (always the details), wading through piles of leaves, kicking up my feet, much like traipsing through the surf as I churn, that distinct sound – of the dry death in dry leaves, the sweet breath of decay suspended in the cold air, such a unique scent, like the blooming of flowers in spring, this is the signature of the fall, held so still around my ghostly breath, the flashes of red and yellow now turning into brown, and then near nothingness, dormant stars to hide in the earth, burying luminescence, life is retreating into a cocoon, we, the overseers, as it were, pursue – the vast importance of our daily lives, but at least the coming of the cranberry holiday can give us pause, to say thanks, and pause to look on the world’s comings and goings as a lesson, to hold on to the remains of a dying year, to remain to hold those we hold dear, and to remember above all, love is life – and we are alive, give thanks.
Literally first light, around 6:45am this morning in Scientist Cliffs, Maryland, of course my last day on vacay has the quintessential sunrise I am used to @ the cliffs, getting me up that early is a miracle on most days but I must admit I was energized seeing the sun rise up over the bay, I have video as well of the literal rising sun, post that tomorrow most likely, even in the burgeoning cold this was a sight to behold, and it sums up why I trek here year after year, not to sun worship on a beach, to see scenes like these, it reminds me of why life is worth living, even if alone (for now), how can such a site not make you know.
I am on vacation in a non vacation location (say that 10 times fast), but for me this is perfect, the stars are really wonderful tonight, none of my cameras can capture the low light shots though (it is great to see all the constellations so bright – even if the light that I see is beyond the age of all civilization). But anyway the rain stopped about 3pm so I was able to get out onto the beach, I wandered about in awe like I usually do, this place floors me, it grounds me, I hope it allows me bring this feeling to the world, I mean, isn’t that what it is all about ? I was able to find some cool fossils but also just these views, I am thankful for just that, and I need to remember that… and then there is the great food (sushi tonight: baltimore roll: lump crab, avocado, reverse roll (rice on the outside), rolled in old bay seasoning… oh man, total food buzz. (I also got baby octopuses as an app – they were way bigger than other times I have had them, very chewy, but damn delicious)
please pepper me with questions about this area. I love it here and have been coming here for years now. I think this is an absolute hidden gem of the east coast of the US. Plus if you think there is somewhere like this I should know about .. I want to know!!! (Virginia, Delaware etc etc !!!)
I post some less complicated thoughts or poems on the weekend, it’s my trend, my thing, my jam, my (insert overused cliche of your choice here), so without further bent…
edit 1:33am, just noticed that if you look at the content I went from love, to sex, to jelly… that is all I am going to say… figure out the rest yourself if you get my drift. It was totally not on purpose, that is the crazy thing, maybe it was sub-conscious?
notes… I was being very specific using the word ‘report’ as it pertains to signal cannons mostly used to announce a ship coming into port, so I am mixing some metaphors here. The rest (I hope) speaks for itself. I wrote this @ my desk today, which is weird for me as it is high pressure but these just popped in there (ghostbusters reference).
music… no correlation, I just was listening to this today so… 2 versions of the same folk song adaptation, some great singers as well…
Swiss and German are pretty close in a lingual speaking sense, very different people though (except in the small Austrian towns from my experience at least). Of course Eluviete had my fave singer (Anna Murphy) so I posted a live version there so you can see how friggin amazing she is in the real.
notes… an old poetic trope indeed to become a thing of nature or imagine a different form from this, but does that make it droll ? Hell if I know… I just work here.
Music for this occasion (thanks for asking by the way), totally trippy stuff I doubt you have ever heard…
totally ethereal, spacey, airy… reminds me of Liv from Norway and my long lost friend Jodi whom I lost touch with before this internet age, those were the days, those were special days.
all sight lost in whirling dervish delights, for now
until we awake into the next morn
branches sparse, the snare of cold breath
a frost
we retreat to our dens and hearths
and wait.
notes… we just had a Nor’easter here so it is almost the last cruel insult to the leaves… they are clinging for dear life knowing they will all be stripped bare dead and here comes this horizontal rain fall and ripping wind to take away their spark, the aftermath is all these leaves, some even green, strewn about like a total mess, so I was commenting on all that and larger themes of the season.
These were written @ Higbee beach in Cape May NJ known for “Cape May Diamonds“, also if you walk far enough south you hit Sunset Beach with the USS Atlantus (a concrete hull ship that sank just offshore), a little ditty about Higbee, I went there to find some new/less used beaches on vacation (when I am on the beach I am interested in walking the tide and looking at nature not sunbathing), so I walked all the way down the beach south (about 1.2 miles) from where Higbee meets David Douglass park (Cape May / Lewes ferry), so, in my infinite wisdom I decided to take the nature trail back instead of the beach… oh boy, first, I was wearing my crocs, and they ain’t walking shoes, secondly I left my sun screen and other stuff out of my pack because this is october and well… I didn’t expect 80 degrees and blazing direct burning sun ! so… I was hella wrong, it was like I was moses trekking through the wilderness, all sand (and if you have tried to hike in sand you know how much fun that is! – not!), sand and scrub brush… and a winding trail more confusing than choose your own adventure books, it was torture, I still have the remnants of blisters on my feet (2 weeks later), winding paths not in the scrub forest, all out in the open in the valleys of dunes just off the beach which I thought I was near the surf (but every time I endeavored to find it I couldn’t), and of course there was no other people on this trail, thankfully I have a good deal of hiking experience from my youth @ camp Sequoia in the Catskills, so after 3 hours of hiking (and cursing) I finally made it back to civilization (the parking lot), man, it sucked…. I am a hard headed person but this wore me down certainly, so maybe that adds to the ingredients of my poetry ? maybe… so here it is…
Upon Higbee Beach, Cape May NJ 10.8.2018
I walk the beach whole
I learn the shore lines
the neighborhoods of waves
the bindings of tides
between dunes and break,
I stride casually
soft wet sand sinking slightly under foot
beach sandals in one hand by straps
walking over footprints fading
as if I’m never there,
passing sun bathers and gazers
wondering what sort of tide brought them in
and from what inland shores
accents and manners float
in and out with a subtle roar
ghost crabs, run to their burrows
horseshoes right themselves
deft barb on tail
turning like clocks in the coming surf
turning to noon out to sea
these ancient ambassadors
far older than these
Upon Higbee Beach (pt 2), Cape May NJ 10.8.2018
the sand, the sound
the tide, the wind
broken footsteps trail off
the sun travels deliberately across the sky
the beach is low, for now, exposed
tide peels and shipwrecks, and their crews be told
left up upon the beach, stranded until tidal moon
or worse yet
found by the mouth of a hunting gull,
time seems to stand still, even within all this motion
This is part of my “from the porch” series where I am writing from my, um, porch, just channeling whatever comes in on the antennae, so without further delay…
10.24.2018
long gone are the soft summer nights
on this night full moon high
the august sun, is faded words on bristled pages now
Shades of My Garden 