fallen angels.

fallen angels.

statue angel cemetery
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fallen” 6.14.18

so I know how they felt

the angels that fell

eternal cries

of pain

separated from your love

shattered

broken

cast into a dessert fire

sweltering heat

never ending sun

my skin boils

cooked to the bone

but this –

surface agony

compared to the realization

is nothing

the separation

the fall

for all eternity


Notes… I’m not religious (and hold no ire for those who are, more on that some other time as I have a bunch to unload on that topic) but you would have to admit (if you love a good story) that the bible certainly has some great writing in parts (other parts of the bible are just instructional and clearly written by clergy with a mission imo… I’m talking the sodom and gomorrah type of stuff here people!).

Specifically in this case, I love the play of free will vs. obedience to god… sort of a conundrum (if you have free will… won’t god know your choices anyway etc?), but also the fall… knowing you made the wrong choice and now you are confined to hell (figuratively) due to your own actions.  Now I am not claiming to be lucifer (the rebel leader)… more or less a lesser angel without that much pride to take on the big honcho in the sky but caught up in the moment… these are all the ingredients baking the cake in my head on this one… not sure if I conveyed it all in the poem, hey, I’m just a guy with a blog, cut me some slack jack.


Tunes… time for some blues, I got those lost woman blues, the I ruined the greatest thing I will ever know blues, I didn’t lose her – I screwed it up, so all I have now is me and my guitar.  Gary Moore “There’s a Hole”

guilt.

guilt.

grayscale photography of man sitting beside wall

“I am, Ruins” 7.18.18

can you forgive me?
can I forgive myself?

NO.

the guilt
like a captor
a cage
becomes familiar
a house
with common walls
closing in
circling
blinds the view
no windows
no doors
huddled in the corner
struggling against the bindings of my guilt
under the weight of stone
tattered clothing
barely covers
broken form
cold wood boards
floor creaking
talking
reminding

the key-
to forgive
out of reach
beyond my sight
I can not see,
my mouth, my mouth pantomimes
Help… Help… Help…
(and softer…)
…help –
until a whisper
then just a murmur
quakes across trembled lip
quivers
-help
a single tear forms
and draws
like a blade that strikes out against the world
(help)… (help)… help me, please… please…

 


No cute notes or music on this one.. I think I will let it stand for itself. -dmk

Eons…

Eons…

abstract art astronomy background
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eons” 4/29/18

I have no want of death

I do not wait for death

yet, the flicker of humanity

will extinguish

and the planet may pause

spinning eons by

carrying some other passengers

until the sun

burns out a billion years

the milky way

one star less bright

one less spark

against the canvas

of absolute night

who might notice

who will bear witness

no sky to look upon and ask why

death will have stolen all

from this little corner

of the universe


I actually wrote something about 9/11 today (in my car reciting it to myself until I arrived at work and feverishly scribbled it down)… but it is something I actually want to work on due to the nature of the moment (very not me, I know, you know if you read anything I write that I am usually just in the moment of now)… Every day I drive a certain section of the NJ Turnpike (geez, what an arcane term) and a hill crests where you can see NYC like a postcard (over that abomination of a train station)…. thousands of cars, we all pass this every day vision in the distance, so close you can almost touch it, I wonder how many pause and are struck by inspiration, surely not the A-hole in the Infiniti all over my bumper… I used to have road rage but now I smile more, because where the hell are we all going ? really?  plus I have great tunes on my USB stick….

So I posted the above because I am determined to post everything I write for the most part… good or bad, this is not about me showcasing my best stuff.. this is me unloading on the universe that which I am driven to create, and share.  I do not claim to understand how this works, if it works… or anything… if I can touch one life I suppose it is all worth it, even if that life is just mine.. maybe I am a fisherman throwing out my line into the ether… for another her… a companion or just friendship…  I’m not so sure about anything anymore, the more mistakes you make in life the less you trust yourself, but you are better at hiding it… so much better…

Obvious (sort of)

Obvious (sort of)

Take a Walk in the Woods. Doctor’s Orders (NY Times article).

trees in park
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now… I don’t claim to be some svengali or genius… but getting out into nature seems like a pretty natural thing.  Interesting read but I think it misses the main point… getting away from the grind of the common everyday gears we are party to in our “normal” lives (those of us who are not independently wealthy or write as a hobby not work).  My zen is totally getting off the grid (OK.. not that far, I’m not a savage ya’ know) but at least far enough to feel like you are somewhere else (at least until a plane flies over).   The routine of work can be just that… a routine which leads to boredom/samedom/dumbdom/doldrums… even as busy as my job is, sometimes it feels all the same, and honestly going to work in a cubicle in a converted warehouse probably is not the ideal human situation (but hey, I need to pay the bills and buy truly dumb stuff).   So I guess it is a question of balance.  I’m not saying I have mastered it.. damn far from it… the blog helps, it is an outlet but… I can do better to be the real me I think (well, I know, but the effort seems counter intuitive at times… but then time passes and you realize you’re just being an ass worrying about stuff that doesn’t matter)… I am human, I can’t say I wish I was something else, I just wish wisdom came in bite size and I could have consumed more along the way…


back yard” 5.27.18

all these leaves

apartment complex of trees

they are only seasonal tenants

to soon all gone

back down into the world

until next spring

when new tenants

once again

move in


games” 4/7/18

robins and jays play stratego

for sky and place

the jays are sky dwellers

robins roam the ‘scape

the board is set

the game is framed

timeless battle

so, engage


So… I thought about not posting any music as I was having trouble coming up with some linking idea, but as usual the me pulled through: “Nature’s Girl” – The Jelly Jam, Ty Tabor is the reason I ever picked up a guitar in the first place.

Life and the cosmos…

Life and the cosmos…

silhouette of person
Photo by Raman deep on Pexels.com

 “the edge of the earth” 4/25/18

I am standing at the edge of the earth

ready to step off

into the universe

maybe our current existence

is actually a flat surface,

so I might fall

into dimensions

of curved comprehensions,

of life

travel back

future past

or perhaps beyond time

subsiding on another string

extending consciousness

by some other means.


I think about life… and death.  I have no memory of any life before mine so am I destined to be just a grain of sand… who disperses into the nothingness of the vast ocean of the universe ?

life began as a proton having a menage a trois with some electrons leading to a single cell organism living happily in a puddle of chemical muck of amino acid building blocks… and then that single thing decides to replicate (as we all want to do but amoebas did not believe in birth control apparently)…  eventually pull itself from the slime (some millions of years later) and climb onto the land … and suddenly has the choice of a galaxy or an iphone.. truly evolution.

for this poem I am invoking a bunch of science… I am saying we could be ‘flat’ not referring to Flat earth belief… but that we think in 3D when there are other dimensions out there.. so we would appear flat to something in a 4D universe (I am also referencing string theory), I know, heady stuff… but I if we just live and die.. what is the point ?  I want to believe there is more… we all do.. some have religion.. some have science… I have nothing… I am still looking, hoping, searching…


music?   Living Colour “Cult of Personality” … this song rings true for decades… plus Vernon is just one bad ass guitar player.

People watching…

People watching…

adults airport black and white building
Photo by Kaique Rocha on Pexels.com

I was stuck at the same store for work pretty much all week. Not to complain (it was cool to be out of the office honestly).  Red Bank NJ is a really nice town so that was a bonus.  But working on computers in supermarkets does afford me the opportunity to people watch in the live zoo environment.  I have been doing that but in a different way.  I try to figure out what went into that person, literally meaning, all the circumstances of life and time that lead directly to the person standing there (the ingredients for that particular cake)… it is daunting to think about but… also fascinating, and then juxtapose that with me just being in my little corner of the earth and this concentration of events and experience that makes individuals goes on like a grand machine billions of times of day across this world which is so incredibly tiny against the backdrop of the cosmos…  Hard to wrap your head around, but I try (or maybe that is the way my cookie head crumbles).  Then I wondered what these people see… when they see me.. the posture, the body language (do I have a big dumb forehead? do they check out my butt?).  Do we ever really look at ourselves the way other people do ? Can we ?  I suppose social media helps that if you are honestly yourself in videos… but do people act the same (totally) when a camera is on ?  (There is the scientific theory that something changes when it is under observation) I wonder if future generations will just have cameras all the time and just be… because that is all they will know (Truman Show?).  These are the things that bounce around my mind.  The following should have been part of my live poetry jam I did a couple weeks ago but I totally forgot I wrote it.. I am human after all (my co workers may have issues with that statement).


6.18.18

supermarket

jackson heights

the faces

races

ages

generations

one by one

all in line

check out

with no exceptions

A simple thought.

A simple thought.

6.21.18

my infer-structure

is crumbling

I can no longer

understand your subtleties

you tease

you flirt

I never noticed or observed you

like this, from afar but close


I couldn’t imagine posting this under some cool topic where I could blather on and on about this that and the other thing… but I liked it so… here it is.  I do not feel like explaining the first couple of lines in an American context right now.


Music for the evening ?  pretty trippy… Voivod : Angel Rat, stay for the chorus, you probably never heard of them… but ask Dave Grohl about them

A simple image.

A simple image.

dandelion nature sunlight
Photo by Nita on Pexels.com

snow globe” 5/23/18

tufts

of dandelion fur

swirling in the wind

cast long shadows

in the late afternoon sun


Semi-haiku I suppose (well, it feels like one to me).  I personally don’t like to be bound to form but it is like anything else in life (you want to wear a comfortable pair of pants that suits you when possible).  Haiku is like watercolor to oil or acrylics in the painting world.  Or maybe I am too lazy to count syllables and I am certainly not Japanese…

The idea of space…

The idea of space…

moon and stars
Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

inner space” 4/24/18

concentrate

I try to feel every atom

the space in between

science tells me so

I travel the air inside

for the answers to this world


the empty space” 7.12.2018

I am standing

on the end of all known land

I am staring, wondering

I know all this

all this, empty space

and inside

am I just the same?

time ever pulls me on

I struggle

to grip what is beyond

what to make of the landscape

behind

for that which shaped me

and is spent

forward, grinding

until nothing is left

the personal erosion

the never stop heart beat

involuntary breathing

I am falling

into the emptiness

submission

a life’s fulfillment

a dream

has come to an end.


So science (at this time.. because real science changes all the time) tells us by observation that space is actually pretty empty (that’s why the little voyager probes will probably outlive our civilization… 70s tech will last a billion years! oh the power of hot stuff!).  Of course there is the new grease in between the creases thing (see what I mean about science evolving).  So there is immense space in between things but we feel so … connected in our tiny tiny corner of one galaxy in the vast immense insanely large universe… hard to wrap a primitive mind around…  so that is what I was thinking about… the space within our space and how we fill our space within that space.  Heady stuff… but… we only have one life, why not contemplate it all, even if it is much easier to just eat work sleep… I am no different, I’m trying to be, to focus on being a phoenix because I know I am, we all are (well, honestly not every one, I am talking to you, those reading this who have that spark), we choose normal (even our normal) because it takes constant effort to be the pinnacle… but we do owe it to ourselves, even though we will fail… but at least we can get some stuff done… my opinion.


music.  super chill ambient.  Seti “Pharos”, of course SETI is the project to try and detect alien life using the world’s best radio telescopes (like the amazing Arecibo array). This album is a total trip through the cosmos, you can almost imagine the stars as you travel past them (well, at least I can).  draw the shades or curtains, lay back, turn up the bass a little and imagine flying through space passing stars, asteroids and planets… and contemplate what Frank Drake was trying to quantify… definitely some super food for thought.   I appreciate all comments and feedback.. and criticism.. man I love complaints because how the hell am I supposed to see this through your eyes?  hint: I can’t!

Teterboro

Teterboro

Teterboro” 5/4/18

runway on 46

daffodils in the median

to my left

going west

probably home

the roar of jets

touching down

the thrust of flight

taking off

in a minute passed by

route 17

as I drive


A very NJ-centric poem (links to explain for those out of state), a place I drive by all the time, but never took the time… to notice.  The jets feel like they are on top of you as they land/take off on this little airstrip tucked into the folds of strip malls and all – in the cross hairs of the highways 46 and 17.