umbilical stretched.

umbilical stretched.

So… what a strange contemplation, what a strange feeling, at once I feel alone, isolated, never a real member of the village, always the guy who lives out in the woods or on the exterior portions, disconnected, but right here in the mix of the world, and yet… the exhilaration, as I climb over rocks to find nooks of a beach few eyes take in, not some new impossible spot, for surely they have all been found before (and they have) but there is this moment of discovery, like you are on the moon as armstrong once stood, ok, maybe not that grand, but still, the little kid in you, that devilish imp thinking you are doing something you shouldn’t, you are privy to the plot that no one else has seen, I can only imagine what a real explorer felt, even if they were not the primary, they must have felt this same rush, centuries are blind, humanity binds us, we have the same instincts, wants, desires, we just have different clothes to put on, call it technology, or progress, all the same, a chord links us all back to the first walking apes, until we become fully machines, which may or may not happen, not in my lifetime, I imagine myself downloaded into computer memory, my electrical impulses and what not, but I doubt I will see the day, as alone as I feel in seeking lonely places, I feel more connected than ever to life, to nature, to history, I am not expecting every one to understand, but this is how I feel out here, would I like someone else to understand ? and share this with? I would be lying if I said no, but I have learned in life you need to be happy with what you get, dreams are not a bad thing, no, they are a great thing, but your feet are on this ground so be there to… just try to accept life as it comes the good the bad, like the tide, highs and lows, always the highs and lows, but I must admit, being here, I feel my regrets, I wear them, but they do not wear me down, out there, back there, in the real, everything seems amplified, so I just suppose, I need a remote beach to repose, to retreat…no, to visit, when in need, once a year has sufficed but would I be better visiting twice… and more..

(later in the day) I saw a young couple walk past me on the jetty as I was filming, I say young meaning they were probably in their 20s, maybe late 20s, sort of goth dressed but not as goth as I recall back in the day when the Cure were huge, I don’t mean any of that in a bad way, just descriptive, plus dock martens are and always will be awesome, but anyway, they are dressed sort of androgynously, which makes sense in the scene, probably wearing heavier jackets than they should be, but yet she was baring her midriff, and she wasn’t thin, but it totally worked for her, well at least to my eye, and apparently his, they walked by determined to go to the edge of the jetty, I cut a waft of their cigarettes, or just his, hard to tell, but it brought me back, for sure cloves, there is something so special to me about cloves, I want to ask them where they got them but didn’t want to interrupt the moment, who needs some random jackass ruining your thing with your woman ? I don’t want to be that guy… but cloves, damn, I was a Black Djarum guy for some years, ever smoke em ? damn tasty… I went not many vacations without them, but that temptation has passed, my lungs are picky things, I watch, as the young couple meanders all the way out to the end of the jetty, the seas are not rough today, I would ponder each step myself, and haven’t had the balls to go all the way out… but good for them, shadows now, I can barely see them, as I fall back to my car, try to kick all the sand out of my shoes, look back once, not for a moment jealous, but for a moment of what if…

(always my beach song… always…)
another leftover (dig in, won’t ya?)…

another leftover (dig in, won’t ya?)…

close up of food in plate
Photo by Tranmautritam on Pexels.com

um, leftovers, I should really post all things at once but sometimes things get lost, I have my journals to be sure, but man my handwriting is pure… garbage  🙂  so this is one I forgot to post from my visit to the place in new jersey I love almost… the most, Cape May


 

Upon Cape May Wildlife Refuge, Cape May NJ 10.12.2018

I sit here, with my friend willow brush

your tufts so soft to the touch

sea lake pond hdr
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

designed to be stroked by the wind

bending as she sways to swing

how long have you waited

for just the right breeze

to release your young

and ease into deathly reprieve


to see where I actually wrote this (literally on a beach in a storm) check out this vid, I was in a tidal area (marsh) where the ocean meets um… the marsh… very unique ecosystem, unfortunately I had to clean up about 17 beer cans/bottles thrown into the brush… that pisses me off, I am not some rabid environmentalist (I am just a classic nature lover), and hell, if I was a kid living near there I would probably party on the beach too, but man alive, how hard is it to clean up after your damn self…

 

Poems from the beach…

Poems from the beach…

green grass beside sea
Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com

These were written in Cape May NJ @ David Douglas Park.  I am trying to transport my mind back to that time… it seems so distant now as all vacations/downtime does.


Upon David Douglas Park, Cape May NJ 10.9.2018

the clouds are collapsing, upon the last rays

as we spin away from the sun, passing below the horizon

the clock now turns to dawn

as we approach the time light’s passing

the flocks, have gone, to find their beds

to where? so many, just moments ago

filling the sky and shore with wings

like shadow cut outs

cast about by a child’s whim

all lays calmer without the light

night has a way of subduing sight


Upon David Douglas Park, Cape May NJ (day 2, after the remnants of Hurricane Michael came through) 10.12.2018

walking the beach alone

but there are many residents

and the constant roar

I talk to the birds

I ask them questions

I know they can not answer

I walk this beach alone

seeking fulfillment, enlightenment

from that was before

and will be after

I walk this beach alone.


This is what the beach was like the morning after the remnants of Hurricane Michael rolled through… it was pretty nuts!  The day before it looked like this !

Comments, thoughts and critique is always appreciated, thanks!