reliable light switch, always in reach on and off, like the sun’s daily ride, always in reach on and off, one day the bulb flickers causes a moment pause, always in reach on and off, some years later flickers again and then just off, reliable light switch forever gone.
notes: I was on my exercise bike and this came to me as one of my basement lights went out, sure, it was flickering, it was on for so many years, and flickered on occasion, and then was out completely… you do the math, if you know what I mean, there is more to this poem internally as well if you unpack it visually…
as once the sphinx asleep in the sands so clear now upon excavation my mind wanders a, lone, last, resident, heart incoherent, time travel to a place, a palace of emptiness a tomb, once resplendent in the adornments of love a blooming garden in the sun, long gone – dilapidated ruins, strewn columns, passing uncaring tourist feet wanton blind, I travel the path, to the lost oasis, armed, with no reason a fool’s journey of temporary reprieve or warm habit had but old empty hands itch for anything to grasp and so this goes my fantasy, once reality, my past a proud worn marker once, leans down broken, half buried in dirt once mud, discarded, on a side road forgotten by some haunted by others tethered by one
notes… Of course I am fascinated by the pyramids and such… the sphinx was buried until pretty recently, so imagine the sphinx sleeping for a time, where the meaning maybe was forgotten, but have I made a monument in my mind? to my love… yes, maybe, and then the years pass and you forget, for a time, but then maybe revisit that monument, that love, buried a bit, worn, but never gone, that is what I was feeling here, and the gist of the thrust of the poem… as usual it came up upon me and just wrote, the first few lines just popped into my head.
she is the calm in at once the womb of death herself
how many times a stone washed before the surface is no longer itself but round
notes… I am not going to over analyze this one to death, I am playing with a few ideas here, and of course, I would be remiss if I did not say thanks for the looks, likes, hot chile recipes and such… we are all stuck on this globe right now together for some reason, when someone figures it out, text me, will ya?
am I just a bird searching through fields of grass hoping for a single worm
notes: all about the rise and fall of the syllables, well, at least to me, one of those I call “haiku-feel”, you know, not haiku in the strict sense, sometimes simple is simple…. seems reasonable, at least to this mind…
the dampness in my heart has been replaced by a restless cough born, of barren ash once blood did flow a river of hope life in – pump by pump deadened – to a still birth a trickle down you are gone, my love and so I evolve into the ground
notes… sometimes I get caught in themes or a mode of thought, the world could be celebrating but I exist in my own head, as we all do, sometimes retreat feels like the obvious option, but yet I persist in moving forward with anchors of the past, so I must have hope in there somewhere in all the despair, there is always hope, I search for the light, and I often fail but I aim for the light, I do.
ladders and stairs paths and ways tread and wear I strain my eyes carefully to examine the face made of porcelain all the while I am the puppeteer holding my own tender strings, from orbit, lines are lessons in person, rifts to dear ledges the more the experience loads in the fading light ticking grows – the burden of the coming, for a mere message bobs up and down between the shores a millennia maybe more sailing unto distant lands a note from the world unfurled in a stranger’s hand, might I be a comet and visit all vectors, sectors the domains of light and the space between until, at last my tail glows unseen, a candle in a courtyard with a slight wind bent aged eyes slow close tired as the flame is utterly – spent.
Sometimes I flip through some old stuff, and find lines or short works, or incomplete thoughts, and I post them in the quiet moments of weekends, perhaps you like them, or they help inspire, to me they are snapshots, ideas lost, or just something the moment has passed on, and with that, so here they are…
(1) she ruffles my brow as only she knows how (2) do I trust the path of crows for they are mischievous sprites do I stay the path I go and risk the safety of never light (3) I looked up, and I thought: “could I die under this sky?” and yes, I could, I would, maybe not the radiant blue you are thinking of, but layered textures like purposefully settled sand, layers of slightly not the same shade but related, surely I do not want to go, but if this was the end I might not mind. (4) all of the circles of sand when will they end (5) I see rolling hills of sand from which wind blows shifting landscape yet remains the same a one note chameleon
an unremarkable rainy day the pond in the park over there a lone figure sits on the bench centered I can not read their story from here so I move on
notes… I say it every time I write a piece like this, haiku is great as a script, I don’t like the restraint but I love the feel, intent and compaction, no bones to throw @ those who are haiku advocates, Basho is amazing, he embodied his poems, but I am not Basho, so interpret for yourself.
let the core of this earth be as is my heart a world existing only for you, eden-born my love, my gemini, for I am bound as my soul, to this dirt from which I come which I came to know you, forever the poles as they track the sun until all light fades my love shall remain until the dying collapse that will end all days so- I will be with you forever.
notes… this is meant to be staccato in rhythm, in beats, at least that is the way, it reads, to me, and I meant, to write it, that way… but always for her, for her, the one I will always love, until the day, the day I die.
morality religion not twins nor siblings often confused as lovers but they are quite something other
notes… just a thought, there are those that post on high moral standards using the crucible of religion. you do not need religion to have morality, I am not discounting religion, that is a personal choice, and I am good with that, but those of us who do not believe in said religions can still have solid morals, I used to be that snobby northeast agnostic who looked down on religious folks as dummies who believed in a voice in the sky (an easy position in retrospect, just a way to dismiss), I don’t claim to have the answers so who am I to think myself superior in some way to those who have found their answer, I don’t, I am not them, I am not you, I am me, and I respect our differences, I would love to have an answer, the big answer, that would really quiet the storm (and fear) in my mind, I do think I will die without the answers I seek until they confront me in that ultimate time, and maybe that will be to late, but I have to admit my fear, my panic, my scrambling, do I have faith? yes. because I try to live morally as best I can, if that is not good enough for my soul because I didn’t follow a book or a man? I have to be accountable for that, so I am….
Shades of My Garden 