I wrote these in the same day, different themes, different emotions, ah, screw it, here they are….
“sitting, looking at a tree I planted, now fall” 11.10.2018
the slanted rays of the day reveal
as they pass through
radiant red of my japanese maple’s palms
also reveals
the fissures and cracks
the spectrum
of the collaboration
of this celebration
of death
Photo by Acharaporn Kamornboonyarush on Pexels.com
“daylight savings” 11.10.2018
trying to find that clock
the one with the extra hour
to steal an hour back
the only time that will allow reclamation
anymore than just this spare hour
or the mind will know the trick
notes… my lovely japanese maple is a fraud actually, it is some hybrid, I found out quite by accident, the first winter after the planting we were hit with a vicious storm, to the point where it broke the young tree in half, where as there was once these deep purple leaves of a weeping bow short tree, after the break (I was glad it was not a death blow) an offshoot grew – taller, and with deep crimson fingers, that was many years ago, but it is a great juxtaposition against my native tall maples in my front yard these days, hard to tell when it is really fall until I see this maple wane in the weight of the coming winter, and it is in direct view when I sit on the steps of my porch, obscuring my view with so much rose colored leaf glasses, so that is what I was observing, as I have said, this is haiku to me (feel, not style).
on #2… sort of folly, a bit of my Twain streak, but also a realization I had, those times we look at clocks and are fooled by those with the incorrect time (as “incorrect” as that can be – does time really care that we peg lines on it?). We pine for that extra minute in the morning etc. I wonder if this current stock of youngin’s is as dependent on clocks – sure they look at their phones every 4.29 seconds… but for the clock ? and watches are mere decoration these days? I wonder what cartier would think… but anyway, I thought it would be fun to illuminate our silly dance with times and clocks… if it succeeds, maybe not. who am I but to share my thoughts, with you.
thanks as always, I am trying to stay in thanks as a state rather than a reaction, this is truly a great world even with all the problems. to me, to contemplate all the factors that had to happen in the universe just to make this dumb post is just an amazing overwhelming thing… keeping that in perspective… that is another thing.
music… so relaxing ambient (older but relevant imo)
Surely this is a time to unwind, one of the big American holidays leading (and perhaps the actual door) to winter, christmas and what not around the corner (do I need to be PC and mention every single holiday? nah, not me.), since the weekend is the time to relax, curl up on the couch and watch some TV (like a parade no one really cares about but we watch anyway), I like to post some simply digested pieces (get it, turkey day humor), maybe even just one line thoughts, or orphans as it were… so without further delay (I know, you must be waiting with such baited breath)…
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
5/16/18
robins and rabbits
do not seem to mind
each-other’s company
on this little patch of mine
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com
5/18/18
can you feel the sky breaking
cracking at the dawn
I can no longer hide my disgrace
within the passing storm
Photo by Dhyamis Kleber on Pexels.com
5/20/18
your eyes
are the only ones
I have ever
truly, looked into
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
5/22/18
to know her
is a song,
stanzas upon my heart.
for eternity
I knew, right from the start.
these notes
they spare my soul
from the looming dark.
6/6/18
humanity, these days
souls on a billboard
on a road to nowhere
Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com on Pexels.com
6/14/18
sunlight
moonlight
fraternal twins;
sunlight bathes
illuminates
light of day;
moonlight owns
the night
in the phases;
the rise on tides
waxes and wane and disappear
crimson high, chasing the dawn of genesis light
eternal dance
partners three
notes… just on the last one, by partners three I was referencing the earth, moon and sun which is what the universe was for those just a few or so hundred years ago, kind of a play on perspective and science (and poor Galileo) , I thought about referring to all celestial movement but since I was being local (in a solar system sense) I thought this was the way to go. although most of these poems are dated 6 months back (their birth), I did alter them here and there today… maybe I am getting better at that ? I don’t know, I can only post and hope it connects with you, the reader. And in this time of thanks, well… thanks. I am not one to fish for compliments, it may sound arrogant but I don’t care (if you know me in the ‘real’ world as especially my coworkers can attest), I do not do things for others behest, I do them to do them, to do the right thing, which is not always rewarding in the outward sense, but fulfillment should be an inner strength, something that feeds your soul at some level, not some exercise in how many likes I can generate, would that be nice? I am a realist, and not a bullshit artist, so yeah, sure I look at the likes, but that is exactly the hook I have to avoid… to enjoy the process, it is almost like dangling a shiny thing in front of the real prize, the real prize being real praise and admiration without prostrating myself in front of strangers behind a keyboard (ahem, you, reading this)… in summation I give thanks to whatever is out there, to you, to anyone I connect with, we are here in a blink and it seems that time has gone so fast, maybe I can share my value with my posts and enlighten just a few folks, isn’t that better than most ?
music… when I am contemplative I tend to go ambient (or classical), today I bend ambient…
the gathering of leaves, in piles
sculpted by the wind
the original, feng shui
I don’t write haiku, I don’t hate it (I do not like the restrictions), in actual fact I have read tons of haiku over the years, one of my favorite books was a collection of death poems (sort of a sub genre of haiku), but this poem above is my ‘feel’ of haiku, it should have ebb and flow, like a tide, and the tide carries a truth revealed, maybe it is just me, some random nut, but I think not, because I am that random nut, so how could I, perched in this house, perceive that from my perspective, I can only share my interaction and inner tinkering, a beginning to understanding. pass the gravy, let me overdose on turkey and pass out.
And without rebuke… thank you if you read any of this, I do appreciate it, comments are always appreciated, criticism is especially valuable – how can I see my own flaws without you as a mirror ?
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
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…
remnants of the first snow
still upon the ground
half moon surrounded by moonlit shroud
the land’s last hope of holding onto the sun’s kind warmth
departs- with a sigh
now we must submit holding on
wrap a blanket, hold you close
stoke a fire, to crackle and roast
embers rise up the flue
or dance and curl
as the embers bloom, and decay
falling apart as the night longs on
holding their energy for as far as long
the tv flickering six feet past. eyes close.
now will be the mornings of frozen lawns
frost to cover grass and glass of cars
but for now
curled up to sleep
awaiting, counting, sleeping dreaming
to survive the season, the silent schemes of the longer shadows
as one day this will no longer be a metaphor
as one day will come and close the door.
Are we always engaged in life… at our full ? potential? That is my goal (not that I am near reaching it), why not shoot for the moon, you can miss and only hit some random satellite, but you would still be in space, above the earth… but sometimes I feel like I am running in place. I try to remember I am fueled by optimism… and gifted with this life and this forum to share. but sometimes…
Photo by Gabriela Palai on Pexels.com
“misting” 6.1.18
I’m alive
breathing
– misting.
I wake
I work
I sleep, some nights
floating
days flip
patterns hold
seasons pass
winding
clock forward chiming
haunting in this
simply existence
– misting.
music… one of my all time faves… (a 2fer tonight!)
I can pretty much guaranty you never heard anything like this, canadian pop/prog, this album was a total curve-ball, so I totally dug it, stick with the songs, listen to the chorus and lyrics… from a guitar perspective Piggy (RIP) always had his own thing going on, I regret not seeing them 4000 times more than I did, at least I did see them live though in my live.
And thanks to you, if you read any of this. because… there is value in throwing yourself out there into the world, you never know what she will return…
I wish
like a bee
that with your sting
you had died
perhaps then
I might be satisfied
but your venom remains
poison in these veins
for all time.
notes… not sure why these words came to me (but they surely did), I was stuck in horrendous traffic this morning to work (2 hours to go 26 miles), so maybe that was the venom, the title is a play on the phrase anaphylactic shock which occurs if you are allergic to bee stings, sure, I could have just hidden that and let a few people catch it… maybe if I had 50,000 followers I might do that, but at this point I am the flower, and you are my pollen spreader, so in the interest of well… interest, I post as such.
note… let me know if you get it (or how you get it), or if you read it different than how I wrote it, I am not you, I can’t be (that would be weird… c’mon now you are creeping me out), but I am curious how other people read this. there is a bunch of ways, is this a statement ? or a question ? or both…
Thoughts and cinnamon buns are appreciated. As well as follows (just not around my neighborhood, I would have to call the local authorities…)
Good evening (or other local time appropriate greeting for you), I bring you a true story, a tale, a hero’s fable (well… ok maybe not that nearly that fantastical), this ’tis the how and why I broke a bone, the only bone I’ve ever known to break in all these years sloshing about the deck of my titanic life (so far dodging the icebergs somehow, maybe global warming is a friend in port?), so, the first question you may ask (or I may imagine you may ask) or maybe the first question I think you should ask, “hey man, what in the world is a Hippity Hop ?” for those in the know this giant dog chew toy was a wonder of wonder in the youths of those children of the 80’s (of which I am an inducted member, maybe even an elder of same – at this point), but anyway, a hippity hop was a mode of transportation before the segway came about (or that information highway thing I have heard such things about), and like all things such modes of transport evolve, I quite imagine that perhaps they are outlawed now, especially given the story of horror I am to import (at great personal peril to my 10 story pride), but with a quick click through my local yellow pages, ahem, I mean search engine they most certainly do still exist (they did fancy them up a bit from the simple red/blue option I had), so basically you plant your butt on this oversized dodge-ball of a thing, grab the ring and then transmute yourself into some sort of kangaroo hybrid (sans pouch, and tail, at least in my case, that is), so yes, I did not have fruit ninja, or an ipod/pad/phone, all we had was … “i”… (and somehow we managed through the boredom, I suppose it is all relative as if I was born in the 1800s I might have been churning butter for fun…), so anyway, where the hell am I? where the hell was I? so… these lovely bouncing things… sure they were fun, but like their far distant cousin removed three times the lawn dart… there is danger lurking in the ramparts, unseen evil forces that can guide these seemingly harmless rubber rapscallions turning them into destructive ICBMs (individual contact bone missiles), so, maybe you see where I going, I am trying to drive and get my damn map app to work… so bear with me, the setup: I was a young lad once, only once, and my parents imprinted on me (ahem, demanded) that I need to be gainfully employed if I wanted to buy things, with, you know, that money stuff (the nerve of those abusers!), so at a very young age I got what jobs I could, for the scope of this story I will spare you the litany of things I did for money (geez, that sounds really dirty, but thankfully nothing of ill repute ever came upon my petute), so I took a job as a camp counselor at the local YMCA (actually a JCC that became a YMCA, but what’s the difference?), it was a simple lot really, just watch some 7 year olds for a few hours during the summer and make sure they didn’t get hurt or do anything incredibly stupid (because a 14 year old is certainly qualified, obviously), so all was good, the little demons, ahem, I mean angels were so well behaved that Alcatraz would probably not take them, nothing crazy but I lost count of the ripped shirts from the ole “pile on david” game that they so loved, that much I could handle, but then… always insidiously lurking in the shadows, so friendly looking, almost a bouncing emoji (before there were any)… those damn Hippity Hops, plotting, waiting for the moment, the overthrow, the rebellion, to unleash their unholy hell of bouncing rubber asunder upon my innocent frame… I must pause for a moment to gather my thoughts to clearly recount the trauma… one of our (and by our I mean my little brood of monsters) daily activities was hopping about the gym on (you guessed it) Hippity Hops, ok, no harm no foul, been there done that, and then, came the moment when the evil plan was hatched from their nascent idea egg, I was not paying much attention when it happened, I mean who would expect it? through a sheer act of possession one of my minion hopped off her hippity hop and grabbed the ring like some naturally gifted olympic hammer thrower, spinning round like a tempest, no, like a full on F-5 tornado, unleashing a rubber projectile in my direction without notice, in slow motion I watched as it bounded toward me, I thought nothing of it, not knowing the sheer force of evil behind the gentle looking rubber, I recall it bounced once with that signature true sound like when you perfectly kick a kickball in a game, that “thunk” (and the satisfying feel of your foot sinking into the thing as it recoils and explodes outward to the outfield), so I heard that sound briefly, this moment was the calm before the storm, as it were, with pure lion instinct I reached out to grab the until now innocuous bouncy thing of joy, and then… it happened, in that brief moment, the hop bounced in such a way, as if guided by the lord of darkness himself, up to my outstretched hand, and hit, as if in perfect measure and intent, my middle finger, the transfer of energy traveled down, into my palm and there found a home, at the time it did not seem like much, maybe a jammed finger ? which I had endured a thousand times in basketball, but ah hah, the hidden damage, I returned home in discomfort, but not knowing the damage done. fast forward 2 hours, my hand is a balloon, or more really a surgical glove looking appendage that someone pumped air into (too much air), at this point I had to enlist the parents (hey, I was 14, alright?), off to the local hospital type place (well, actual hospital), X-rays and the usual, my hand was broken, my heart was sunken, I was taken out by a hippity hop, a rubbery drive by by a 7 year old. my pride ? broken as well, my answer to those who asked about my cast? “you should’ve seen the other guy”
Moral of the story… they say the devil is in the details, I disagree, the devil is in the pigtails…
I appreciate all shares, follows, feedback and pies… well actually, I hate pies, my taste profile is bitter, sour and spicy flavors, so I appreciate pies of scorpion peppers and broccoli rabe.. um, ok, that’s gross most likely, I appreciate your eyes, on my words, that much is true, so… thank you.
Shades of My Garden 