view2021/8/18 #poetry
The light seemed to curve over the edge of the rock, turning downward as it fell into the water. In the air, white-grey flecks lit up in the spill of beams. Some flying, some floating, some falling.
The new day had yet to warm up, and many tiny winged creatures were yet safe from the larger beasts that lived in the heat.
Higher above, dancing mists start to tumble faster as the light pierces them. Their edges merging into the surrounding air as they boil away. New stronger flows of wind begin to buffet them, to fold them. The clouds capitulate, uncaring, used to constant change.
view2021/8/17
Yeah, so the real question is, is ‘is is’ as fun for you to say as it is for me to say?
I also like to say ‘it is’ as a response to a statement that is true. Intoning ‘it is’ reifies the subject mentioned, but I don’t believe in its reality so it is a subtle ironic joke for me to reify it.
There’s so much to tone. We communicate so much with the variance we add to words. The hoops we have to jump through to fit those same snippets of meaning into written words. They’re quite plentiful.
view2021/8/16 #poetry
Today I exchanged the old for the new
It's been quite a while and was certainly due
I held on so long that the fabric wore through
Then I held on some more while all the holes grew
The time to move on was past, that I knew
I had to throw out, but it's tough for me to
That things must change is always true
Good thing my supply still contains a few
Moving on, starting fresh, can be nice too
brainstorms that didn't make the cut:
You can't avoid swallowing after you chew
You can't eat more food without going poo
And so it is with me and you
view2021/8/15 #poetry
It's a strong feeling
An all over buzzing
A pressure
I feel pushed
That there's something I've got to do
What though?
I go out and look
I search the city
Breaking from this account
To again go out
I walk around until it gets dark
I return empty handed
Knowing no more than before
Waiting for something
That I hope will find me
view2021/8/14 #poetry
When the solution is so terrible that you can't even fathom it
you may say that there is no solution.
You may not think of terrible possibilities at all
or you may discount them so quickly that you don't even notice.
You might think on these terrible options gravely
but not acknowledge them
or speak them.
You might offer a terrible suggestion in jest
to lighten the mood
expecting that everyone understands
it couldn't possibly be under consideration
so you must be joking.
All these ways to go about avoiding
when you don't like the obvious
when you can't stand to face
what you will do.
view2021/8/13
Up until the time that I actually walked through the door I really hadn't processed what I'd gotten myself into. I wasn't resisting I don't think, but I didn't have any motivation to push myself to address it internally. My mind reeled as I took in the scene, I was processing it now for sure but it would be a while before I would be able to complete. I almost forgot to breathe. I could feel my body from sole to crown in every detail and my breath felt like it was intruding on, shattering the stillness of the space. I stepped gently and tentatively, slowly moving forward as my head swayed back and forth sweeping my vision over the room. Gold, just as I'd been told, gold, gold, gold. Everything was gold. Pure as could be, I'd been led to believe. Completely gold, solid, not sprayed, painted, coated, dipped, leafed, dusted, encrusted, electroplated, layered, scaled, or gilded in any other way. I was at a loss for what to think. I had known that it would be gold. I had known that when I asked for my old bedroom at my fathers house to be turned to gold that it would be made so without challenge. I was being flippant though. What would I need a gold room for? What could I do with it now that I had it? Whatever these aliens or spirits or time traveling far future A.I. or whatever it was that had contacted me were capable of, subtle sarcasm was not in their repertoire. “Just make sure that no one attempts to resurrect your father and we will bring any request you have to fruition.” That was the deal. I had no intention of having my father come back to life in the first place. This wasn't possible anyway. There was some testing being done on human cells but the ability to bring a person back from the dead was still science fiction at this point. Why would I refuse? I of course didn't take it at all seriously at first. I couldn't believe nonsense like that, being the sane, normal person that I was. It was out of the frame of my current context and I made that clear. “Ask for proof then.” Simple, easy to do. Either they can do the impossible or not. I started with lightning. It wasn't just for effect. The old condemned church down the block from my home was finally being demolished, but they were doing it with hand tools and it was taking weeks and the noise had been annoying me during the day. So, I had it blasted with lightning. Oh yes, it surprised me, that first bolt. It was as if I'd been the one hit by it. It was dusk and the street had been quiet. I don't know how long I sat there staring out the window. I don't remember going to bed but I woke up late in the morning, past the time when the noise of deconstruction should have roused me. I'd done well, got what I wanted. I went to inspect the site. There were a couple of the workers there. Waiting for a fireman to show up and inspect the charred wood and to give the ok for it to be hauled off. That was that. I pretty much took the bait but I wasn't done with finding out what the limits of this game were. Next was an animated suit of armor, then a bowl of dairy free icecream that always stayed cold and full, and then that brings us to the room I'm in now. “Alright, I get it, anything I want. Really anything. I'll take the deal, I'll prevent anyone from doing anything related to my father that could in any way bring about his return and you can turn my old bedroom into gold.” This was slightly ambiguous and I was asked what 'turn to gold' entailed so they could get it right. It's not that there was anything in the room that was ruined by its transformation, or rather it all was but none of it was anything I wanted to keep. The issue is that having an abhorrently large amount of gold is not that convenient. I guess I could have it changed back but I'm just so overwhelmed that I'm not sure yet what to do. I'd lie on the gold bed and stare at the gold ceiling and try to think but that just doesn't seem like a position I could realistically get any thinking done from. Not even if I close my eyes and imagine that it's still a normal bed. I do have to say there's something quite meditative about having your mind shocked into stillness. In this case at least it's not shock from some terrible trauma and the only discomfort is this itch that I'm feeling to take some unknown action. Something other than stand here and gape.
view2021/8/12 #poetry
Ineptitude!
Well, perhaps that is too harsh. Ineptitude for sure but that elevated volume, that exclamation might be overdoing it.
It is hard to tell if it could have been done better but this is certainly not the result that we were hoping for. To say that it was lack of skill or knowledge which brought about the current set of affairs would be to assume that the circumstances were not to blame. If we aren't to assume then perhaps no reprimand is in order but we would like it to be known that this state is not satisfactory.
Fix it. Do better. Make right.
You understand, you know what would please. Do as you must and spare no effort in completing your objective.
Our faith and our trust are still yours as we as yet see no better option. But take heed, our patients is running short and our expectations are as high as ever.
view2021/8/11
“Isn't it too wide?”
“Sometimes you gotta take a chance.”
White. Of all the paints she had access to her favorite was the white. It had powers the other pigments didn't. It could brighten, or illuminate. Bring the appearance of light into the picture.
This seemed like magic. A glint or some shine could change the whole character of a scene.
view2021/8/10 #poetry
When you get to the beach, turn around and look from the water into the city. With your back at the edge, facing the rumbling commotion of rushed lives, all bunched together, take a second to remember your snaking path there. What chains of consequences were triggered as you came to where you are? How have they unfurled and mixed into the churn that lays before you now? How little of this vast cauldron of motion and decision you are able to grasp, even at the edge, with the widest perspective.
Were it not for the oppressively condensed focus on minutia that each, if not every, body going about its business in the city commanded, there would not be much of the activity that transpires there. From out at the edge, looking in, a mile away, you can't even see the consternation a fellow finding a scratch in the paint on their car exhibits. What weight has this scratch for you? What meaning has it for history? But that scratch, that huff of frustration, turns into a trip to the auto body shop, an hours work for a detailer, an exchange of money for services. This time taken, this effort spent, this money moved all has effects on the whole of it, the bustle and buzz, churning and heaving all for the sake of these little small things.
You know that. You know the inconsequentiality of most of your actions when taken in larger scope as well as the consequence of them at a mere arms length. Would you know to take the narrow perspective when things go smoothly and the broader outlook when stuff got rough, then perhaps you could take on anything.
view2021/8/9
Yeah, so, things haven't been going all that smoothly the last few days. I'd spill the details but there actually rather sparse. Not much happening at all really. That may be why I'm down. No idea what I should do with myself. I could move forward on those important things that I'm supposed to get done but since I'm avoiding those I found some trouble figuring out anything else to occupy myself with.
If I could think about those important things maybe I'd start on them but whenever I try the seem to slide right out of my mind. No pressure to get them done at all I suppose. Other things are important and need to get done. Cleaning, laundry, cooking, groceries, sleeping, exercise, staying in touch with people, but not those important things. Those will stay important, never urgent, and wait patiently for me to get around to them. I'm strategizing ways to force the issue but that seems to backfire. I'll find a way if it's there though, no way to stop trying.