at this moment the sun is veiled behind a mass of pulled cotton and slowly revealed, in setting an everlasting bulb, I might wish a night wish to witness the super nova that will end all, here at least for at least in that end I will have one more moment to share with you, my love before that great end, with you.
notes… I think we all have fantasies about such, maybe not, but probably, or at least us artistic types, or those of us that live in our head, it is probably better to be an automaton, maybe, I vacillate between wanting to be ignorant and the knowing… but I really don’t have a choice anyway, unless someone bashes me in the head with the proverbial frying pan or age robs me of my rapier whit… I just need to breathe in deep and accept everything, not surrender mind you, but just accept things as they are and concentrate on what I actually have control over… and let go of which I do not.
talk about evolution, I imagine many fans of this band are like WTF? but… they are so good musically and show it here, I like that they have evolved completely away from the start, static is boring, I hate boring…
I saw a black cat cross the path but not the one in front of me a side street still in my view, but I wonder I pause, will my luck fare just the same
notes… I would love to say I am …so… above the odd superstition, but I would be lying, I try to be logical about it but sometimes that is just a scratch you have to itch, perhaps going to lane 12 instead of 13 for EZ-Pass… guilty ! even though I am not a triskaidekaphobiac (truly one of the greatest words in the english vernacular), so this is really a true story in poem form, just me driving home the other night and out of my right eye I spied a black cat (or did I? hmmm?), and somehow this little troll of suspicion of apprehension… of superstition whispered in my ear…
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Music… going with a classic here (and sort of obvious!)
Some Housekeeping notes… I updated my Collections & Series page, linking to my Essays and such, so if you think my poems suck (that’s cool) you can skip to what you like (I am damn accommodating). Also I am in full on Game of Thrones mode on my media page, I tend to write copiously when I am passionate about things. Plus I will review movies/shows you probably never heard of. I have diverse tastes to say the least. So shameless plug #2 (media page!!!). and for the hell of it… more SRV, damn he made that guitar sing, I hope to pull up a chair at his table and have a drink with him when this is all done.
moonlight shoulders silken folds painted toes nestled in bermuda grass like a tree reborn resplendent in your season my love and I will remember you thus with star dust molded into your form mapped upon the sky a constellation forever more my love undying for even after the light of humanity fails there you will be my love among the stars framed around my heart to uplift my soul with the love of light for all time beyond.
the furious duck angered by cartoons stalks the children past the noon and with swift bite may they know and fear bread crumbs to offer distance to appease, do not cross paths oh dear children twixt that ferocious duck, with blood on bill he thinks himself a wolverine a feathered fiend trust my words children and heed them well the ugly duckling cowers no more.
notes… sometimes strange things take possession of my head, I saw a goose, not exactly something so out of the ordinary, my area has quite the many of the canadian variety, but I thought why are geese so damn aggressive and ducks are so… so gosh darn cute, we even put effigies of them in the baths of our children, geese, I get it, the whole foie gras thing (which if you haven’t had it is utterly, decidedly scrumptious but if you investigate how it is generally made… well, you may be an angry mother and stop eating it), so anyway I thought of the transfer of geese aggression into their fowl cousin, the impetus ? how cartoons exploit our poor web footed but feathered friend, I mean think about it, speech impediments (donald), one is out of his mind (daffy), a uber rich one who basically has a pond of money (scrooge mcduck)… I could go on and on about how f’d ducks have been in cartoons… and that lead to this silly little work… and don’t hate me for this (and damn it is catchy)…
I contemplate the beautiful fragility of butterfly wings upon such gale stain glass beats oscillate with silence only spectacle the dance of survival spiral pageantry of these so easily broken, I think of the single snowflake winding journey to the ground to dissipate surely into vapor and once more rise then gather then fall to travel the world over in many forms, I stare at these last rays bleeding bronze out from this day’s ending I pause, for all these things and the miracles contained of bearing witness in these soft moments of my existence.
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notes… written 4.18, last night was the first real spring rain, no, not technically but it was 70 degrees and the rain was a relief, almost clean, seemingly a hint of bleach as it gently made overlapping circles on the deck as I watched, the dog sniffing around her domain in the backyard, life is good, it beats the alternative, take a minute and breath, there is something wonderful within eye’s reach, the idea is to reach for it, I am guilty as any for forgetting this, trying to re-calibrate my noggin to ground myself in reality, I am here now, trying to enjoy the ride.
music… going soft acoustic instrumental (thanks to my bud Chris all those years ago for turning me on to this and Tori…)
the sun must rise again. for belief is life in the blood as loving hearts contend this perpetual motion resists against the gears of night, for -the sun -must -rise. to breathe life into that good hope the singular line of light to spark in the stirring of the being, of the living for again, the sun -must -rise, comfort to the children of men generations seek wisdom the good will to bend up against that death for there within is strength resident in that good light, and the Sun. Shall. Rise. Again!
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notes… I wrote this on saturday actually, it did not dawn (hah hah pun) on me until later that it could be taken in the context of Easter, this was not intentional, perhaps the muse felt she had to guide my hand, as I say often inspiration is a strange sensation, it feels like possession (in good way, not in a head spinning vomit way), this one wrote itself, this final version is barely edited from my original scribbling, one of those that you write an just immediately feel good about, which means I will probably get zero to three likes on it… lol, anyhoo, this was really (to me) about optimism, sure I could quote Annie “the sun will come out… tomorrow”, ok, that is pretty much the same sentiment, and I am not half as cute, or a ginger…
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music, I make no bones about it, my favorite band ever is King’s X, a band that was ground breaking before anyone knew anything about anything, that’s all, in this PC world of today they would be heralded as lions and pioneers for so many reasons… enough preaching, here is a song of their first album from back in 1988… damn, I was 15… the vocals, the rock/metal edge, it made me pick up a guitar for the first time, and want to sing (which I most certainly can’t)…
that first dandelion has appeared in my yard, sure enough to be followed by more, is this that produces the roar of the coming season with that golden mane? the transition of land, the prey shall inherit the earth from the predator, I quite see all the harbinger’s of spring in their many forms, the golden locks of golden rods, the marked pinks and purples of cherry blossoms, daffodils ranging on ‘scaped frontiers, even as I count these happenings the shift seems an instant, is the world a touch greener every minute, each moment, or are my eyes just adjusting.
I watched a cardinal below my window, in the bush, hurriedly and meticulously crafting a nest, flitting off like a bolt to gather more building materials, placing them with expert instinct feet and beak, then sitting upon them, shaking her tail furiously about to settle the lot down, shaking her whole body with decided fury, and settling down to check the foundation, over and over and over again, I watched the process, careful not to disclose my perch, or my intrusion into family work, and on I watch, wondering, wishing, wishing I had such singular devotion in my own daily pursuits.
Part of this post is from a poem I never finished, but this post and that poem have been rattling about my mind as of late these days, here is the unfinished work:
the harbingers of spring o’ soon upon the gate announcing the guests arrivals golden locks of golden rods rows on rows of cherry blooms sunlit hours stretch ’til moon the flowers of narcicus peak the boughs
I kind of like sharing the truth, or unfinished work, I am not some robot or perfectionist anymore, I want to let people in to see the inner workings, I do not have much free time so I write when I can and spur of the moment most of the time, it prevents me from posting everything I want but also holds me to the reality of what I got… any and all eyes on this post, thanks, that’s all for tonight folks.
so, the wave has begun the first domino has fallen a generation to come – to an end. I have seen the wave coming for some time off on the horizon off in that inevitable ocean but so soon crashing upon the shore this is the way of things for we are mere pillars of rock hewn of sand drawn down and back into the surf from which we once rose in and out the flow of this life, we pretend to have some modicum of control ever looking at that horizon and the coming waves as they come for me surely, some day
notes: for a while now I know a certain portion of my family is at the cliff, at the precipice of that final step, it is a generational thing, I have been admittedly lucky that death has not visited my doorstep too often, my grandfathers both died before I was two, my grandmothers died at advanced ages not suddenly, that is pretty much it, but now… it is only a matter of time where I fear (know) they will be dropping like flies, I can not imagine what it is like for my parents who have lost friend after friend over the past couple of years, death is not a fickle beast, you can do all you want but she still comes for you whenever she wants, my folks are not in great shape, or of particularly long DNA stock but they are around to witness the deaths of all their friends, it is a strange thing, one we all do not want to imagine or even live in, but it is always there,the horizon seems far but is always approaching. So this poem is about that, my uncle who is gone now, some months, he was an intellectual in such a way that he ordered no funeral or even memorial, I understand that from a logical/scientific perspective, but maybe those things are more for the living than the dead… a moment in time to bring together a family to remember they are indeed family, maybe even if just for a moment, and perhaps bonds can be reborn, or remade, or started anew as the younger ones in the family are transitioning into the elders and having their own children, the conveyor belt runs better with connectivity, and that requires time set aside to be together… just a thought or thoughts…
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I know, not my usual Saturday lighter musings, and the weekends are where posts go to die, I don’t care, I post what is on my mind, maybe it is because I had to wake up @ 5:30am today to go to work, Sam (the dog) gave me that look like “really dude? you are never up this early”, and of course she’s right, starbucks lasted until about 6pm then I passed out, back up again and writing this, so maybe my mind isn’t quite the same as usual, that’s ok, sometimes you gotta’ shake the tree and see what happens.
Music???? sure… not that you asked but damn I am a persistent mofo pushing what I love…
Simple and sweet, the vocals are just so friggin good, if you like 3 part harmonies and the Beatles.. well, this should be up your alley (except Doug has a better voice than any of the Beatles individually, I know blasphemy…). My cousin Renee worked in the city @ the time and sent me the CD with this track on it along with a signed poster, that had to be 1994, it made my year (thanks cuz!), and later I got to meet them many many times over the years, great peeps.
upon glorious victory! let my men take me from this field hoisted up on heralded shield a procession commence to great fanfare the songs of this day for long they share let the choirs rise high from those survived chapters now written in the tales of scribes, further look back in peaceful times the fallen are gone and shall have no lies
Notes: not to glorify war, but, war happens (one of those inevitable things), there have been many commemorations and such in literature, for some reason the topic hit me and I wrote this from the perspective of a dying commander in the wake of victory, maybe I was listening to this… (hey, I am an old school metal head after all), all comments and such are always appreciated, well, unless they aren’t well thought out, I am a busy guy…
Shades of My Garden 