Monday, April 24, 2017

Soon, infinite and.

Nomad, something,
what is out there?
Under the shared stars,
we used to see,
before the city
commandeered the night
for exhalation

What will you find?
do you know that
which you seek?
My voice,
dry and shaky,
sings razor,
bleed the sky
Can someone,
smile unwound,
with me?
meant both ways,

"Do you understand?"
I whisper,
"Cause I know,
who don't"
Lost charm,
where each lie
may feel like a
stale death on
your tongue,
till you've no
choice but spit
it out against the wall

dance fresh
with me,
for soon,
I am on my way
to your,

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Dear grass

dear grass,
for how I am sorry
If I was being honest,
how I enjoyed,
the smell,
of your pain
as the summer
to yawn

Friday, April 14, 2017

Some scribbles from New Orleans

Bourbon street, one long back alley. Bring out your dead, your proud heathens, and your wound up weary travel toys. Bubbles logged in the fetid air, from unseen windows, desperately trying to clean the mistakes of last night.

The youth walk amongst the din, beauty in legs and breasts and fresh skin, hardly ever sated. Each street, up and down, garbage and the occasional smile wearing a fine white thread suit. Up and down each block, a new ear of jazz.

We couldn’t stop eating, and nor do I think should we. I would sample each dish, with each being made of earthly ingredients, but my God how together they were something heavenly. The deep, rich mud of the gumbo, the tangy flirt of the creole. And the bites of the seafood. No, we should never stop.

Away from the marbled identity of men with simple dreams, come rows of globalization. You could see it sometimes on the horizon, like an impending difference towards the uniqueness of man. I can’t ever think of a reason a building needs more than 8 stories. Yes, 8 is enough for anyone. Let the eye reach, dammit. Let the eye see far, for it causes man to dream.

Sometimes you can get lost in these large crowds. But these crowds, soaked in jubilant jazz seem to hug you. This is not a sad animosity. I watched police men dance with the homeless. I think, I am seeing something very specific, but it felt so good. Watching a mass of noise and color and sound all throb for a single purpose, being human and feeling alive. How I needed this, New Orleans.

And then we watch the little lego houses, carved amongst the bush. I realize, I am sober here. I am sober everywhere. And I feel no less.

Nature offers up warm sun. Fresh air. As we walk, we notice it demands energy as tribute. Still, I don’t sleep well. The mind.

And then I wonder, as I think about leaving. How to separate experience from eternity. How should I not want to hold indefinitely, that which in the moment is perfection. And should I? When, and how, do we bid adieu to that one long, rare night. To that one long, rare love. Never to return, and be warm and peaceful with only a smiling fondness. Is this something we learn, when all we’ve known is tearing longing.

Can I say I am a new on this wind. In this sun. So far from that concrete maze I look on as soley as obligation. We are perched on a gallery, full of youth and resilient.

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Don't Let Us Get Sick

Taking a finger picking class, learning, only a few classes in so far. But felt like singing this beautiful Warren Zevon song. Not very good, but progress. Can't seem to get the feel for singing and playing at the same time quite yet.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Great News!

My amazing, courageous Aunt Mary sent this email today, and was happy to share the good news with all. Wish her all the luck in the world, she truly deserves it!

I wanted to give everyone an update on my treatments.
Today, I hopefully had my last chemotherapy treatment.
I have to wait 2-3 weeks, then have my Petscan.
Then a week later see the doctor.
I feel like I have gone through this as well as you possibly could. I know it is because of all of the many prayers, love, and healing, being sent to me .
I feel so very blessed, and I am eternally grateful.
I love, and, appreciate you all,so very much.
I asked for continued prayers for a great outcome.
I love you

Monday, April 3, 2017

Thoughts during the marvelous Paterson

I could have observed in silence and understood. How so beautifully observed. It made me question the value of music. But maybe it wasn't about understanding. The music was another, though, and it tore even deeper. The first word was complacency, how I wished, I even had that. The darkened beauty of turmoil I barter in, for currently, and ever, feels so lonely. I prayed for that simple complacency. And empathy. Another, who understood. It's been so long, Lord?

Everything I do simple seems so obvious and stupid, everything complex so absurdist. Where are you, comfortable skin.

And clockwork. Deep, red veins of admiration, like some mine that would take disrupting the entire body to unearth. Would it be worth what to find. How I long for beauty. The years have made all that beauty I see that much more. Distant.

I could think between the cracks. The slow linger, the perfect shape. How to go between those buried moments to those casual hello. But listen, close enough. What you hear, what they say, becomes you. Manifest, was it you - or them, or the abyss.

I remember once, months ago, I ran out of cat food. The cat, stared, and yelled at me for ideas. There was a can of tuna, so I opened it, carefully placed the pink white fish in the bowl, and discarded the tin after rinsing it a bit. Gracie pulled up and sat for a meal that would last only as long as it took her to swallow. Now, every night, after I place her cat food in the bowl, she walks back to that cabinet, sits and begs. It was a chance, one time, she got lucky. She got lucky once.

My God, that ending. And just before that, the rain stopped. Now I resume scared quietly.