I like to take things lighter on the weekend (hey it is summer, India Day coming here in Edison NJ and the Yankees are playing the Red Sox, summer indeed), time to relax and let the week… end, and start anew on Sunday, so here are some quick things I might not post otherwise, lest they hang on the vine and rot away in the shadows of my journals (these range in age from May until, well, now-ish)…
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cherry blossoms greet you at spring’s door in a twist they are gone may day all fall down
birds in a yard conducting business or covert intentions how am I to interpret their intricacies
refrain rejoice even in the rain
on my lawn upon my yard robins do a two step a young jack nimbles and is quick buttercups add a touch of color of bright yellow candor
for cardinals are the bane of bulls to small to gore to red to ignore
we live upon the southern edge at that precipice of storm for we look beyond our shores
All your thoughts, comments, likes, hates, opinions, critiques, and eyes on any of my writing are with thanks… so, thanks. feel free to comment, lament, foment, ferment and any other lent you can think of, the floor is yours… because I prefer the bed….
“as we reach for the sun we burn our tongues as we can not know the words to the song take me to… take me to… where the night has begun west of the moon and east of the sun”
copyright… me… just because of the pause and the simplicity of it all, at the end of the day… if I could post in black and white perhaps I would, perhaps I should, for at least these occasions…
back to my regularly scheduled programming… Thursdays are for the lachrymose, those moments when I reflect on her…
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“a slow pour, in a bar in paradise islamorada, florida sitting on a stool of course, by myself top shelf surprised they have basil’s, a slow pour some would describe this exquisite a perfect sunset light slides along the gulf like all those postcards I suppose I could just buy a bottle and some pills and end this right now as there is something missing in the midst of all this glory, a slow pour – the rattle of melting cubes the sharp sting of bourbon punctures my tongue the view, massages like a familiar tune the hum of gentle conversation I am not involved in, a. slow. pour. … the deck overlooks overlaps the water lapping the pylons sips count the minutes here in locked distant beauty in a bar, in paradise on the water I contemplate life – without you”
notes… this is totally a mental picture for me, and my link to Islamorada above shows… even in the midst of what most would consider paradise…. I remain, on those warm nights, ocean breeze, wishing you were there next to me, I still have hope, down there, somewhere, for new love or the kindling of old (for her, I love you)…
and in the interest of being honest, I was disappointed that my last post got no love… maybe the way I tagged it ? not sure.. but either way I stand by it with pride….
“the life I wear wear on myself and worn familiar broken in no longer comfortable in this skin and may be never was what I was sold to believe”
notes… ok, had to be a word nerd (I am an unabashed dork of vocabulary), accouterments is just one of those little, ok, big words I adore (*gush*) , I wrote this back in may, totally forgotten by none other than me, until today (obviously), I went back and looked through pages and pages of material (my mess of journals)… I wrote new stuff today but… somehow this hit me to post after I got home from work tonight (now, I was doing an install in Fort George NYC), I had to move equipment that was in place for 10+ years… and it has done my allergies no favors… dust bunnies are not cute, or furry, and damn they mess me up… in other news I got lost a bit in the neighborhood (I don’t know this particular part of Manhattan that well) and I wound up in Fort Tryon Park… damn I wish I had the time to share the views… you bet your ass I will be revisiting and getting some photos and video up there…
“wildflower grown in your own soil grown at your own pace I wonder how you chose, the colors of your house and your brothers, sisters there all of the same house entwined with your neighbors burst forth this short season thrive in the warming light reach up to the warming light”
music tonight ? OK, gonna be obvious, and simple, and I love this song due to the simplicity, I can imagine reading/writing to it… and maybe I did…
all thanks, likes and musical suggestions are welcome, come on people, turn me on to some stuff I don’t know, I doubt you know someone with the musical pallet of me, electronic, death metal, classical, ambient.. and that’s just tuesday… as always, thanks for looking…
life should be like just now, let my dog scamper about, the temp is, just right, the summer sounds are still about, but nothing is stirring at 2:30am, it is a time you can have for yourself in these parts, right at this particular time I have no issues pending, I could quit my job with no consequence, I am of good health, I have no worries outside of anything really, and it all seems in line tonight, so relaxing and releasing, my dog’s silhouette walking the strip of lawn between the sidewalk and the curb (a truly suburban thing), she turns her head and looks at me, and I say “no, it’s OK” as usually I am in a hurry for some nonsense reason, tonight I think, let her roam free, not too free mind you, I do not feel like tracking her down when she ranges… and she does range sometimes, she always comes back, BUT there is always that underlying panic that grows each minute when I know she is out of my vocal reach or vision reach, I know in my mind she always comes back, she always does, but the what if… the what if always plays with your mind… tonight, is not that night, she stays tightly bound to me, maybe recognizing the hour, I do talk to her like a person, “hey, before we go out, make it quick, it’s late” as if she understands that sentiment, I pretend she does, I can delude myself and elevate my dog full rosetta stone, thank you very much, for it works, at least tonight, no panic, she deposited what she had to, for me to clean up in the morrow, but came back with just a snap, and all was good… and with that I am off to hopefull dreams, lay my head down and sleep, for a few hours at least…
I have to admit, if this pre-empts my other post tonight it should not (I felt that was an inspired post), this was just spur of the moment, the other post I wrote yesterday was more inspired I think, ah, the muse, inspiration, what a funny fickle thing… but as usual let it fly baby, let it fly…
family…
for some reason, I must admit to myself a certain underlying apprehension, as a family gathering is happening out on the horizon, nothing formal like a wedding mind you, just a get together, a party for an uncle eclipsing the 80 year mark (who looks great for his age), but anyway, I got to thinking about this underlying apprehension as to how I would be judged or looked at, is it my expectations, theirs? both? driving to work can provide mind maddening traffic nightmares but also a chanee to reflect, so I guess this is what that is, I suppose there will be idle talk about what David is or was supposed to be, and what or who I am now, speculation, derision, is family strangers… you just happen to know better ? just not better than your friends ? these are my findings, not all families get along (we are not fighting mind you,), I suppose we do alright these days, better than most, although the distance between all of us has grown and is quite palpable, an interesting phenomena in the days of digital communication, things are actually less personal, get togethers are more rare, real communication is even rarer, is it regret? a generational thing? I’m not sure, I suppose we all bear some responsibility, so easy to melt into our various devices as devices of convenience and distraction (the evolution of bread and circus?), in many ways I seem to know more about what my relatives think, on social media at least, but is that just a face… or reality? or a mixture? I try to be as honest as possible in all phases but in reality, this reality we all play roles, whether we admit that to ourselves or not, we have differing faces, not mendacity, not lies, just different sides for different suns, can we escape that paradigm? I suppose that is what I try… at least… so I think there will be those that judge me against their children or some other quite temporal measuring stick, what is success anyway, and is temporary “success” in this world worth anything anyway? Are having kids… success ? if those kids “fail”… does that lessen your ‘success’ based on so many factors you can not possibly control… or do you just roll with it, life that is, the more I think about it the more I tend to let go when I catch myself acting by the hand of outside forces, like these thoughts that have invaded my little space but I caught them sneaking in (they should have removed their shoes… amateurs…)
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lest you be judged…
“let people judge you” because in the end what does it matter, you can never, or will never be able to control the thoughts or will of others, there is no super secret power or device to such end, your options are very obvious if you distill them down, forever chase the end of the rainbow to no end… or just accept things (and yourself) as they are, I am not saying throw out the baby with the bathwater and eschew personal growth and goals, but as far as other people’s thoughts? consider them, but let that not be your guiding principal in this life, it is easy to judge anything and everything, it is our absolute nature to compare things, but take into consideration that we all have limited experience in these comparisons regardless of how long we have been riding on this planet, we are very tied down to our own experiences which in the scope of things is quite limited (think about the variables, when you were born, your parents, your country, your state, your gender, your religion etc etc), so trust in that deficiency, sounds strange to trust in your lack of something, but that lack of experience is exactly the lens you are filtering the world through, admitting real limitation is the keystone to the bridge of accomplishment (I should author fortune cookie messages… or hallmark cards… I’m available for parties, no balloon animals (just can’t do that) and no ponies (I’m allergic) )…
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eclipse…
maybe my problem is over stimulated blindness, looking at the sun can be overwhelming, at times an eclipse might be most useful, something between you and everything, blocking enough so you can see the periphery and the outline, not all the light at once so you can appreciate the whole that much more when it is revealed again, there is a lesson in there somewhere, the patience of it all, as the curtain is slowly drawn and then reversed until full dawn, so maybe I will think of an eclipse if I am ever overwhelmed, and remember not to take in the whole ball of sun at once (as I tend to do, becoming a localized Atlas with not the shoulders he had), realize my limitations and take in what I can instead of swallowing whole, surely though I will falter and draw to close, fall like Icarus into the sea, and hopefully not drown this time, or the next, like all things practice in this, and practice becomes habit and habit becomes your work clothing, and then you forget the change ever happened at all, because you are comparing things as you go…
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so I suppose my fear (or discomfort) is un-grounded, I should not have apprehension for a family gathering, if I cause rumors or a stir, it matters about as much as a car spider scuttling across my window at night, or a leaf slowly swaying back and forth as it inevitably lands on the ground, have I cleared myself of the fear completely? some part of me still clings, but somehow, after examination, I feel some relief… and I suppose that is progress, besides the sky is very blue today, there is a cloud that looks like a mile fern leaf, the wind is gently turning the purple leaves of the cherry blossom outside this concrete box where I work, it all seems right… it all seems OK… at least for now, and that is all you can hope for sometimes…
finger-style electric, mellow but exciting, and if you play the technical level is mind blowing, they are playing the TLA in Philly in September, hell yell I will be there… (I couldn’t make the Brooklyn show on the 16th this month.. grrrr)
“contrast and choice“ a bird with a broken wing falling unforgiving ground silence
a bird with a broken wing flailing the sounds of suffering but surviving, no longer able to reach up and touch the sky must learn how to walk content up on the land imbued with the joy of life of grounded sound
music… something you have never heard probably, introduced to me in college back in the early 90s, sort of euro indie, thanks to liv from iceland who popped this on me back in the day, I miss those times and a couple of the people… I remember the signed sugarcubes album in the window of the local vinyl store… so here you go…
all thoughts, recipes (seriously I love cooking, I could do a whole blog on that alone but I stick to this nonsense as it is more personal), likes, hates, comments, vicious take downs of my posts…. I welcome any eye glow, I can handle it, I am who I am and I am glad to be examined, after all my time here is quite limited, so, what’s the difference…. thanks.
I could sense a palpable sigh as the rain began to fall, as if the ground was tired of holding up the heat and wished to heave the warmth back into the sky, I watched the lightning coming in, the breeze as an emissary picking up, I am in no hurry to run for cover, this is a welcome rain, I have seen days that hit three digits, I have seen heat waves, so this was not some panic toxic today, just a nod to not be working out in the yard, better to dip your feet in the water and sip on a frozen pina colada by the neighbor’s pool, some would say my mother raised a fool, but at least not this day, so anyway, back to the rain, I am not sure if it is perception, reaction, or imagination, the change seems swift, the temperature drops like a bullet, plummets, not very scientific of me, just the feel, the hair on my arms as the weather stations reporting the local condition, my dog rolling around on her back, in the grass, getting all wet, she does not like to be clean, she’s over ten years old now, so she has earned the privilege of her particular needs, so I let her roll around until her dog heart is content…
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why is lightning so fascinating ? the largeness of it? the semi magical seeming nature of it? the perceived and real danger? Even though we mostly know technically what lightning is… does that remove the wonder? not for me, maybe not for you. the rain is coming now, the breeze with subtle trumpets has announced, and you can hear the sheets creeping, falling, advancing, feet from me now, an errant drop scout here and there in my hair, I was facing the wrong direction, somehow, the rain snuck up on the rear while the light show distracted the front of house, nature, she has been at this a good deal longer than I, she will always have the upper hand no matter how smart I might project to be, the only question now is, how wet do I care to be? no soak tonight, I casually stroll back to my door as it now really cracks the sky to pour, I hear the symphony of downward water pounding on the leaves, increasing, I call out to sam to “come inside”, she obliges, her little happy bouncing gate in stride, and back I go, the weight of the heat of the day lifted, I look forward to open skies in the morning.
I turn, in a flash I see things that do not exist memories and flashbacks of this from when you were alive as if standing right there by my side can not feel more real as these thoughts are mine not tangible with hands or reason stretched inside it curls and throes the emptiness your absence exposed
Shades of My Garden 