Tag: philosophy

Gravity is a toll road.

Gravity is a toll road.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
person holding a chalk in front of the chalk board
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Often I think about how we fill our minds up with ‘stuff‘ (thank you George Carlin)… How easy it was to be in the blissful cross-hairs of youth.  Innocence is just one of those things that can not be put back into the bottle (as much as we may try).  I used to feel a sad pity for those with special needs but now at times I am jealous (to an extent as a mental exercise) that they can exist in the perpetual bliss of unawareness.  Sure, I would not be who I am if I was not self aware… but the pull of that other option, the temptation is certainly there.  Self awareness and in my case overly active brain is tiring at times… maybe that is why when I am on vacation I prefer a lonely beach so I can pretend that the waves are washing away all the crust the world has built up upon my hull…  but it takes a toll… how much? We will never know.  But if you do… I would love the answer, please tell me so… so I can truly rest before the true (final) rest.  But I suppose, like everyone I will just be out there sailing the seas of thought seeking islands of legend… and then one day running aground near some nameless forgotten port, sinking, absorbed into the shifting sands at the bottom of the ocean of time, my particles to become the building blocks for some other creation… be it animated or not, a crab perhaps but I would hope for more…. but like all else I am not in control of such things.

“simple observation” 6.10.18

children playing

children’s smiles

making up games

rules are loose

shoelaces

made up races

I miss the whimsy of youth

notes on the poem: I wrote this in a rest area on the GSP… (like many things), a couple and their kids had unloaded out onto the picnic area… and just… the kids did what kids do, making games of the world, amazing, I miss that.

musical accompaniment…

for whatever reason… this piece came to my mind:

Jean Sibelius – Symphony no 5 in E flat op 82

I like the peaks and falls, and the quiet parts…

Invading thoughts…

Invading thoughts…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
war chess
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“home invasion” 8.18.2018

hostile dreams

haunt these

my lonely days

of this existence

among the people

who occupy the spaces

like so many chess pieces

I am long tired of the game

I can not seem to win

lose, or stalemate

or even more

move off this board,

endless gambits

my mind is on fire, no, it is at war

 

if I can not find rest

in my sleep

wherever will I find it?

when I’m dead?

 

hostile dreams,

as of late

they infiltrate

my perimeter

my daily thoughts

a train wreck

my horoscope

 

hostile dreams

they penetrate

my fortitude

my fortress

lays in ruins

not from attrition

but from the constant grind

of never ending erosion

exploiting the cracks

I have left –

the signatures of my neglect

 

hostile dreams

they have overrun the walls

hardly a pause

my resistance

is merely whisked away

my army

forgotten

in their space

empty armor husks

strewn about like so much relics

less steel than one step from dust

 

hostile dreams

they permeate

saturating my pores

stretch the air

the stench

overwhelms my nose

I can not escape

sensory overload

 

I have lost

the will

the will to fight,

so,

now I lay me down to sleep

overwhelmed

by these hostile dreams.

musical choice ?

my dying bride – the cry of mankind

one of the worst band names in history… one of the best bands ever… many a night or a time they have been my muse, my drowning, my immersion, I like this song because it is like a hypnotic meditation (with the constant sound in the background from beginning to end lulling you into contemplation or maybe sorrow… or maybe both, the world is not always cotton candy and apple pie… I would love for it to be so, so sometimes even optimism needs to sleep, for a time)

empowerment, truth.

empowerment, truth.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
afterglow avian backlit birds
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“huntress” 6.28.2018

diamonds like daggers

adorn around her form-

she scans the room

prodding, invading

with a mask of guile

throwing around

intoxicating smiles

they do not stand a chance

unwittingly lining up

to be picked up

like fruit from a tree

to which to whet her appetite

to which delight

and all in the while

they pretend

they have some measure

of control

when there is no doubt

she has it all

not even a game

not even remotely fair

just a moment

before she springs

her snare

and suffocates

the coils wrap

she takes the air

and all she wants

she simply, casually – takes.

Notes… am I past the swoon of a beautiful woman?  sure, I could try and be cool smooth internet guy and lie that I have not been led by my eyes (or something else residing lower).  But as you get older (hopefully) wiser… you realize (hopefully) that there is beauty in so many places other than obvious pleasing visions.  Beauty is nice, it is a lovely component but it certainly does not mean a person is better… and it is all relative. Which would you rather have .. beauty or happiness ?

Music.. I can’t even put into words, how much I love this…  Tori, she is just brilliant… and live a revelation…

Tori Amos – Upside Down (live)

Still gives me the chills after all these years.  true art my friends.

Find beauty… everywhere, stop, look – do it.

Find beauty… everywhere, stop, look – do it.

by David Koblentz ♥ 8 Comments
gray wooden bridge
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8.3.2018

“finding beauty, wherever you may go”

I don’t quite live in the city. I don’t quite live in suburbia. I exist somewhere in between. I pass by lots of concrete but also lots of leaves (this time of year, at least). Back to my point, my thrust… You should find beauty, wherever you may go.

A speck, something to upturn the day. A face – in a cloud, A face – in a crowd. A child’s smile, a child’s laugh, a child crying. Often if I hear a child crying I will smile (wait… hear me out)… For I was once that child, it is the purest sound, of life. For I was a child once, not so long ago (at least in cosmic time). Crying over something simple but we are just larger children now, worrying about larger things. But what is the difference between a switch of licorice and a mortgage ?

I saw a stream by the roadside. I should have stopped when spontaneity threw it’s hook out. I should have pulled over. But I did not. But I should. To find beauty in a moment. I truly should… endeavor to find beauty, wherever I may go.

Notes… I have posted some photos recently on this blog (you probably noticed)… I am literally trying the above, but not just photos… with my words, we will see how it goes, I want to focus on life… because I am alive now!  we all feel immortal, until…

Musical selection ?  here is how huge a geek I am…

Lindsey Stirling – Zelda Medley

I can not tell you what a dopey smile that brings to my face… the hours playing that utterly iconic game… but check out her other stuff, awesomely talented player … and she covers all sorts of the geek realms..

The mystique of a boutique airport.

The mystique of a boutique airport.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Teterboro airport… in North New Jersey… I thought it looked cool tonight so I pulled over and took a couple of pics.. I’m a writer, a poet, not a shutterbug, so forgive me you professionals out there… Although I dig the framing I did (on purpose, I swear) on pic 3 with that little utility house thing)… I wrote a poem about this airport (well, driving by it all the friggin time)… you can see the crossroads sign that references rt 46… road signs are a sure sign of a particular country, something we take for granted… think about it… even here by me we have great diversity in street signs town to town (how about by you?)… someone should write a blog about such things.. but what do I know….

cupid, my friend.

cupid, my friend.

by David Koblentz ♥ 1 Comment
statue church amor cupid
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“love comes a knockin’ ” 8/3/18

Cupid,
my old cherubim, my old friend,
you are looking worn
and tired
but you are back again
stubborn fool
I thought you knew
knew me by now
and why I rule you out
out of my house
my friend
nice to see you
but I must show you the door
even though
I know
you will call again.

notes?  nah… this one is pretty easy to dissect…

music though >? hells yeah!  more obscure stuff as I feel (know) I am an encyclopedia of music (something about my claptrap impossible mind holding all thoughts)…

Second Self “Red October”

Great tune, no traction in the factions of the populous though…  My cousin Renee turned me on to this when she worked for VH1 back in the day (I remember so distinctly her handing me the CD in the cellar of that house… I don’t know why it was so vivid, it felt like an inside job… some band that was supposed to be huge and I was gifted this CD before release… before the internet), tell me the chorus ain’t catchy and I will think you don’t know music… ok, maybe I won’t be THAT harsh… but c’mon now!

Comments and thoughts are always appreciated… and criticism is even better honestly. and to be honest… this is the lesser of the pieces I wrote today, the others were much longer and will take longer to transcribe (from my terrible hand writing and having the time), I am trying to find some way to post in a more consistent manner… more in line with my writing, as I can find… some track, some path, I am just creating.

I’ve lost that… feeling.

I’ve lost that… feeling.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
night building forest trees
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“phantom you” 5/31/18

phantom limb

I feel you

fifteen years passed

motion forward

still photograph

in my hand

is all I have

notes… truth be told, this is truth.  I am without her for 15 years now… it seems crazy to contemplate or digest, I am wired different than the rest of you (I think), I am quite sure she is not.  I never took many photos, but then again I have an almost photographic mind…so…. I remember almost everything down to the last detail, which is great, and torture.  I remember exactly how the scar on her right arm feels… she never told me the story, I never pressed, I figured it did not matter as she was with me, and… and… what does it matter, but I remember how distinct it felt (and still do)…  I raise my fingers to my lips and whisper her name, so I can feel the sound reverberate against my finger tips… I miss her, I feel incomplete… but, there is nothing I can do, I screwed it all up… and I’m sorry, but I am here now… but I want to go back… but I can’t.

music… I am on an Anna Murphy kick, she rules, her solo album is amazing… but check this out… I dare anyone to not hear her vocal prowess:

Anna Murphy – Sick

wait until about 1 minute in… after that… man… vocal power unlike you have heard in a while, trust me… the guitar lick almost sounds like Johnny Cash covering NIN “Hurt”…

dirt.

dirt.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
agriculture backyard blur close up
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“tasked” 4/27/18

I paused

I stopped

to look around

I never noticed

-the sound

until now

at first a gentle scratching

scraping tapping

on the ground

I try to recall

when I was put to this task

a minute, some months

decades past?

I look up and about

from half ways down

try to estimate my position

and to what contract I am bound

to this

 

across the plotted fields

the very same sounds

a constant beat

against the ground

metal clinks

and again

same refrain

chanting thumping metal frames

penetrates and lifts a mound

metal, dirt, metal, dirt

always down

always down

notes…  I sort of was thinking of the Matrix scene where Neo is “reborn” and also the “fields”… a great metaphor for life, so I imagined that we are all just on this endless plain digging our own graves… because, in a sense, we are, we are all traveling in that way, I am not saying I like it, but it is the truth, which makes me understand suicide more from a rational sense but it is something I could never do… even though honestly, logically the equation is the same… can you really argue that ?  the only thing I can champion is maybe just maybe instead of suicide there is creation- of art, of life, of cures of disease, of inspiration of invention, of children… because the human experience tells me.. things are possible, the impossible is possible, death will never be cheated or defeated (everything has an end), but the fight… remember the fight and try to win even when you know you will not. that is the hope of humanity, at least that is what keeps me going, and my hope to inspire.  I am just a man but I want to be more. the question is… do you ?

Musical choice ?  I will not pull punches.. I think Anna Murphy is the goddamn balls…

Cellar Darling “Black Moon”

She is of course originally from the band eluveitie, and if you have to ask she is playing a Hurdy Gurdy… yeah, totally obscure mechanical violin instrument from the middle ages