“I eat, I write and I travel”
that is the open to Anthony Bourdain’s show “Parts Unknown” (which just came on now)… and you know what, that is a poem. How quick the media moves on. Anthony killed himself just last week but it seems like years ago. But those words I quote are just full of everything if you think about it. We eat, we work , we travel… through this life.
We eat
we work
we travel
through this life
complete live thought, posted, I think I will try to sleep now.
So I had an absolutely brutal install on monday night. I install computer systems in supermarkets which generally we have to do after hours as to not interrupt the business. Needless to say I didn’t arrive home until dawn was just creeping up on the world (ok, just New Jersey) around 5am… have you ever worked through the night ? A strange experience to try and fight off tired but not OD on coffee. But enough about my job (it is decidedly boring to talk about, I much imagine I am like a butterfly in a blank box). So working like that screws you all up (hey, we all have our routines) so my phone started to rumble around 4pm and my blood responded by starting to boil (I was literally exhausted and not wanting to deal with work).. so of course my mind starts in like a sneaky suggestion “screw this job, I should tell my boss off, I should quit”… and then, a moment, of zen I suppose, I said to myself “self, stop!”. I walked outside (lovely day) and thought “dead people would kill to have your life”… and that is right. So I sat down on my porch, took a deep breath, and wrote this…
“peeking” 6.26.18
little rays of sunlight
sneaking past the trees
illuminates corridors
in the gaps between the leaves
late afternoon
the light summer breeze
carries refreshment
a caress
just like yours
but not quite the same
little rays of sunlight
diffused by the setting day
does this poem succeed ? I wonder. I was sitting there and there was like this lens flare in-between the leaves across the street. I could feel the warmth of the sun and just relax…. and realize I don’t have it so bad. I think perspective is important. Should that be taught in schools ? Instead of just 12 times 13 ? Should we teach kids skills to cope with life not just readin’, writin’, and ‘rithmatic ? Just something I was kicking around the ole tin can that is my head. I don’t know if it is because I am older now and more thoughtful or am I just a slow learner when it comes to the philosophical trough.
music? sure, I always think about it… I play guitar (not as well as a I could after all these years)… so I gravitate to guitar playing… so here is some slick playing in a swing setting Eric Gales – Double Dippin
“I insist”
so, I sat down for a cup of coffee with Fate
actually, I am sitting by myself because she is late
(so typical of her)
been a long time since we caught up
so long I can’t even remember how we first met
I really shouldn’t be surprised
I’ve known her for basically my entire life
I really don’t think she does it to be rude
I know she has a lot to do and lots of other people to see
I remember how she would tell me about work
and she felt like she had been there “forever”
how every time she got through a pile of work
there would magically appear another
so, I get it
but I must admit (between me and you) it is still a touch annoying
I guess I just have great anticipation
she always has something interesting to say
and the stories…
man! the stories, she has the best stories
I always tell her she should write a book
but of course she would say
“you know my stories do not work that way,
I have to tell them in person, person to person”
so then I suggest she should do some stand up comedy
(she is very funny you know, a bit dry but very clever once you get used to her twists and turns)
so she would reply
“ugh, knowing me, and you know me, I would have to come up with a new act every night, and that is just exhausting”
of course I agree on reflection
but you always want your friends to ride their talent to full potential
I know she does great at her job,
so I really shouldn’t worry,
human nature I guess
is that her car?
no, I think she has a newer model
(maple latte please)
oh, here she comes
(finally…)
I wave
oh no
she has brought a guest…
…
death!
My notes are usually up front but I wanted to flip the script…. because, why not? I wrote this while digging in the middle of a brook for fossils today… must have been a strange (amusing) view, I am up to my boots in muck and the idea hits, so I had to scramble to the bank in thick schwup (sound) steps through muddy sand, dry my hands, pull my journal out of the plastic bag, and scramble these words, the whole time cursing the dumb pen I packed (because damn it sucks but I can’t bring my Mont Blanc or Cross into the woods). The idea of treating abstract ideas as people is of course not new but I don’t recall if I have done this before. My personal favorite at this is Neil Gaiman, to say he is a master story teller is under selling. Check out this video with him and Stephen Fry, I found it utterly entertaining. So, back to my post. Fate? Pre-destination ? What do you think of fate? I vacillate.. we think we know so much, but in a universe defined by billions of years how can our intellect really grasp how this all works given our blink of an existence? We all want to believe we have free will.. but how can we actually prove that … … … ?
I am a wordsmith, truly my trade, a pen is my hammer, paper is my forge, I love to play with language in any form, so another week has passed and as is my habit with sharing my refrains, time for some lighter things, I am feeling a strain of Twain, I say that not to boast but with deference and irreverence to old man Clemens, so enjoy, these are just for pun, go out into the world and blow her a kiss, she deserves it…
I call this series animal crackers… and as usual I wrote these all at the same time, enjoy my cornball goofball sideswipes (hopefully, I don’t know, you tell me)
rats have long tales
but do not write books
the possum was the life of the party
until he passed out
fish are quite mischievous
they always skinny dip
song birds fill the air with music
but don’t take them to a Karaoke bar
worms, like children
sometimes eat dirt
amphibious scenery
newt beach
triceratops did not spin
killer whales
only have black tie affairs
although penguins are invited
pandas, skunks and zebras
all feel slighted
snakes? complainers
constant belly aches
and scrapes
a kangaroo’s preferred drink?
served on the rocks
hop scotch
a dog stops and stares
dramatic paws
the same dog joined the navy
and became a sub woofer
a lion’s residence ?
main street
snails love westerns
“happy trails”
an elephant’s car
has two trunks
the octopus
has eight cats
the starfish
is surprisingly dim
bats tend to hang out
to all hours
but they make great air traffic controllers
Musical selection ? Let’s go amusing… to assimilate the mood, a little strange funk to accommodate the junk I thunk above… Mr. Bungle “Squeeze Me Macaroni”… a band fronted by Michael Patton (Faith No More, a damn interesting guy) mixing funk, metal.. and well just about everything. oh, and please tell me you get why I linked bats to air traffic control.. hello out there? is anybody out there? (pink floyd) damn, sometimes I feel like the Dennis Miller of blogs with my references…
sometimes I won’t have something clever to say, it happens.
sometimes I just want to post some stuff, it happens (below)
5.20.18
driving around my hometown
in all the corners
shadows and streets
memories
creep and speak
I no longer listen
I block them out
my own eminent domain
5.22.18
fishing hole
fishes home
fishing pole
I cast my line
time and time
a nibble perhaps a bite
to reel in my catch
a simple delight
childhood
5.27.18
rain drops
lives lost
lights turned out
endless clock
5.31.18
if there is wind
let it fill my sails
transport me to foreign shores
to unknown lands
where I might
begin again
music? OK, I can get back into that. King’s X “Thinking and Wondering (what I’m gonna do)” (live, acoustic), so yeah, King’s X is a band I love and will post about them until the world puts me 6 feet under. King’s X is a gay black front man from Illinois, a slick guitar player from Mississippi (southern drawl), and a drummer from New Jersey (who is an interesting writer).. and they can all sing.. so yeah, they were diversity before diversity was cool… because it wasn’t a thing, they just “were”.. like we all should be.
I must be in a mood today… the only way I could have posted this faster is with my brain… I must admit this experiment is intriguing.
edit 6/21 12:51am… just cleaning this up for looks, that is my actual scribble there, I was in a supermarket working on a self checkout (I’m a NCR certified tech, you know, to pay the bills)… I think people must have found me weird scribbling away on paper and then furiously trying to learn the wordpress app in the maelstrom of a busy market.
6.20.18
horse and carriage
traveling about this map of roads
might I pick up a companion
how will I know?
might we ride awhile
and let the story tell
hearts and clubs
as they fell
from hands
the cards
horses always forward
carriage half full
(Live from Jackson Heights, Queens NY)
Live poetry, i would say the ink is still drying but i use a modern pen not a cool antique… which reminds me i might quite like one of those… posting from my car and phone for the first time…
edit 6/21 1:02am… just cleaning this up for aesthetics, I also want to note that I think it is important to capture moments and try to convey them. Robins are ultra common here.. but not so in other places, I think we get familiar and forget things like that. Robins are very much land dwellers and territorial little maniacs (with bright blue eggs).. anyway, their behavior is so distinct, look around, pay attention, tell me about your reality.
6.20.18
I was talking to a robin just now
walking to my car
robin hopping
I tried to explain
we are going the same way
the robin
did not listen
and finally
had to fly away
What holds us back? Mostly ourselves. I am not claiming to be better or an authority on how to live. In fact the more I think about life the more confused I get. How in the ever loving world am I supposed to understand another person? We are all an amalgamation of very specific ingredients and experience coalesced into this singular experience. That is of course why we gravitate to our own tribes. Nothing spectacular there… so the question becomes how to break these walls? I could say it takes courage… but does it really? We all find our comfortable couch and love the familiarity… I am just as guilty but I see it, I see me… I want to burn like a hot stick of dynamite in the world, I am sure I have it in me… but what holds me back? or you ?
Here is something I wrote today… as is my usual jaunt this is a one take piece (literally, I thought about live posting the writing which I may do in the future)… I wonder if I should work on my work or just keep throwing out what I pen immediate. I know I could improve some words, some rhythm for sure… but should my poems be perfect … as I am surely not? I should let go of the fear.
“grounded” 6.19.18
I am a bird
grounded
shattered bones
feathers burned
scarred
torn
lying in a broken pile
of my own filth
dying-
-reflection
cast glint
glassy eyes
penetrated by the sadness
deadened by the masses.
Music? Yeah.. I got that… Paradise Lost “As I Die” … PL has been one of my faves for .. damn, that long now? I always thought this is the direction Metallica should have gone.. not the crappy one they have… I love Paradise Lost because of the name (obviously you poetic Milton freaks).. and they change sounds almost every album (even an electronic one! the awesome “Host“). I swear they should hire me as a publicist… well, maybe not.
Sometimes less is more (or so I have heard). I have a busy mind which runs and races. There was a time I tried to subdue this engine and be “like everyone else”… but I am tired of that and willing to release the reins to see where it goes. I used to have strict things in mind when it came to poetry… what exactly is it ? Is there a pure definition? I imagine it is alive, like people, and diverse, like the community of minds here (and throughout the known world). So even a simple form of simple words can hold the spark of imagination, the fire of inspiration, and capture the heart or light a thought… I wonder.
6.16.18
ego
broken
humble
6.16.18
I thought I had found
a four leaf clover
but I had
no such luck
6.16.18
fierce in name
the fear subsides
once you realize
dragonflies
do not bite
“dial” 4/26/18
why does it feel
like my sun is setting
when the clock-hands
only show noon
“dandelions” 4/27/18
last night
maybe three, four at most
this morning
a yard-full
of brazen yellow heads
threatening revolt
5/6/18
I look at my driveway
the only car is my own
I walk back inside
there is no one at home
5/14/18
power lines
bring light to millions
enlightenment to few
“ineffective” 5/22/18
a week
I weep
I pray
I fall
nothing changes
nothing at all
5/25/18
if time is a river
swim to the bank
dry off
does it stop
do you exist
“regrets” 5/28/18
the stem was cut
before the flower can bloom
now it will never be
a flower
“scheduled arrival” 6/2/18
I am sure
upon my death
I will arrive
right on time
“pain” 6/1/18
if this poem is a promise
these words are poison
stitched into wounds
forever broken
musical accompaniment ? Eric Johnson – Fatherly Downs
In the same breath EJ inspires me.. and makes me want to throw my guitars out the window…
whimsy. I have two whole days off (a rarity) so I will be out and about here in New Jersey digging for fossils… yes, you can do that here. One of the best kept secrets of NJ (ahem, besides myself) is Big Brook Park. You are allowed to just hop in and dig (so I do). But anyway here is a silly little thing I threw together the other day while looking at my stat page (as most of us surely do here on wordpress). Surely this is an inside joke for wordpress folks only… so, find art wherever you may roam (or blog).
“login” 6.8.18
wordpress
my domain
free with a plan
upgrade
menu
view site stats plan
manage
pages and posts
counting visitors
coveting followers
as close as I come to “commercial” music… R.I.P. Shannon, saw these guys at woodstock 94 (maybe I will tell you about that sometime, I wonder where Jodi is…hope you are well out there!), they were great… “No Rain” – Blind Melon
Shades of My Garden 