"...mail"
I just looked at yesterday's mail. Besides the electric bill, and the latest New Yorker. I got another go from a Funeral outfit. I can get shake, and baked with my ashes shoved into some wall. That or the usual box dumped in a hole somewhere. Only to be discovered by 36th century grad students.
These poking about the ruins of our sad empire. They'll mostly wonder why so many of us had bad teeth. Radioactive bones too. Anyway such is this time of life. Me,...well I just want to be left alone.
"A Palace of Dreams"
Libraries really should be open 24/7/365, and have facilities for folks to live there. Expand their research areas all that neat action.
A pal, and I often discuss plans of a live in Library, and Theater for retired Ladies, and Gentlemen with Artistic Proclivities. I think I'd enjoy living in such.
"...read"
I'm trying to read, no longer as easy as it sounds.
As I attempt on occasion I had yet another go at John Donne's Holy Sonnets. How the language has shifted in just a handful of centuries.
What will folks make of Ginsberg in just three or four hundred years. How will "Howl" scan to them.
Also reading James Baldwin's sermons. What would he, and Donne have made of each other.
Would they find kindred streaks of fire in each others words?
"...Yule"
I folded time-space. The experience is like passing through warm mist.
The Shift set me in the shadow of the elm that once stood in front of my home. My childhood home.
I folded time-space. The experience is like passing through warm mist.
The Shift set me in the shadow of the elm that once stood in front of my home. My childhood home.
8:46pm Tuesday December 23rd 1957~CE.
It was snowing. Winters were colder then.
A car with tail fins drove by.
The street lamps were dim. Sodium Oxide lamps were years away.
A car with tail fins drove by.
The street lamps were dim. Sodium Oxide lamps were years away.
There was movement in the windows. Our Tree was going up.
Blinking Christmas lights.
I tried to take in this world during the 48 seconds of my Shift.
A woman was on a ladder at the tree. My mother, an aunt?
Blinking Christmas lights.
I tried to take in this world during the 48 seconds of my Shift.
A woman was on a ladder at the tree. My mother, an aunt?
The front door was opening. ...a child!
I Shifted.
Dream
Twilight the moon reflecting on the waves. An old train carriage on this beach. ...it's just there. Brightly lit with people dancing in, & about. The moon sparkled sea the carriage people glowing.
I knew it was a dream, but kept watching trying to make it real.
"Forgive"
Was reading about a late religious leader that was discovered to have abused her trust. So many that we admired in these years, and earlier that have failed people in various ways.
Heroes keep falling. They always turn out to be confused needful weak some even corrupt like the rest of us. I think they get famous by chance mistake or deliberate manipulation. I dunno what to do. Other than maybe acknowledge our mutual weaknesses failings wounds, and what they might lead us to.
With that awareness,...maybe forgive each other.
"You can Fly!"
At least I thought I could. Back when they delivered your milk in bottles cars had fins TV was small b&w, and Good King John was on the Throne. Back in the glorious times when comic books were 10.cents, and they 'gave' you a 'free Coke' with your Hot Dog at the movies...
At least I thought I could. Back when they delivered your milk in bottles cars had fins TV was small b&w, and Good King John was on the Throne. Back in the glorious times when comic books were 10.cents, and they 'gave' you a 'free Coke' with your Hot Dog at the movies...
Back in them forever lost years of the former American Empire,...I thought I could Fly. Made perfect sense. Every night we sat out either at the park or in the backyard to watch the new Satellites slowly sail over us. The night sky was familiar to us.
We knew the stars, and their arraignment as constellations. So we knew it when something new appeared...oh those magical ships of stars. We lived in an age of Miracles.
I felt truly believed that I could perch on the window sill of my boyhood bedroom. Then leap into the air into the starry night, and fly to my Aunt Sybil's house to surprise her.
I think kids 'do' fly, and perform any number of miraculous acts as a matter of norm. However they don't tell us.
Perhaps the "Peter Pan" myth is an echo their adventures. Maybe there is a Far side of the Moon Never-land or any of the thousand names the culture of children have for the "Magic Place".
Maybe without knowing that's what we're all trying to re-capture.
Well to all the 'old' children out there...Bless you, and keep looking.
Well to all the 'old' children out there...Bless you, and keep looking.
"...dumplings"
A year ago my Dark Matter pocket watch. My sentient time machine shut herself off. She's slept in my fridge since.
A year ago my Dark Matter pocket watch. My sentient time machine shut herself off. She's slept in my fridge since.
The other afternoon she chimed, and woke up.
October 22nd, 1148 CE, 5:36pm.
I portaled to what would one day be Virginia.
I portaled to what would one day be Virginia.
I came to watch the sun set.
Still. Quiet. I could hear the faintest breeze whistle in my ears. The buzz of every insect the step of every living thing near me.
I sat, and beheld a pre-industrial evening.
The sky empty of men was already filling with bright stars.
I scented the aroma of the ocean half a hundred miles away.
The sky empty of men was already filling with bright stars.
I scented the aroma of the ocean half a hundred miles away.
If not for bears I would have slept the night.
West 28th Street Manhattan,...current time.
Smears of neon. Noise. Chaos.
Smears of neon. Noise. Chaos.
I went to a Chinese take-out had dumplings, and tea.
"Big Book of Little Stuff".
"Therapy is nice. You talk to a person paid to listen to you. Even if they don't care it's still nice. Because you're telling your story,...even if only to yourself."
...from chapter 38. "Who are these People?"
"...research"
I used to walk the City Christmas Eve, and Christmas Night looking for it,...looking for Christmas. This in the faces of folks,...also looking into windows I passed by. I found scattered hints of it,...research continues.
"Church"
I visited, and sat in my childhood church for a while today.
It's all still there all the mysteries, and contradictions.
All the memories too. While meditating on these I was happy to see the stained glass had been restored. Color, and light. This is all that's really needed.
"Worlds"
"I make my pretty things for their own sakes."
"I make them so they will exist.
I make them because these are the worlds I want to live in.
Even if such a worlds can never be.
"Art"
If rich you're considered eccentric.
Your "installations" are praised by the critics.
If poor you're considered criminally insane.
You are forced to take anti-psychotics, and or put away.
Today Arthur Rimbaud would be a sex offender, and locked up for insanity.
We should all pause for a Jean Nicholas Arthur Rimbaud
Moment of reflection.
"Once upon a time..."
A brief though hard rain blew through town late this afternoon. Winds tossed the trees back, and forth. Leaves filled the air. All that Wizard of OZ stuff on steroids.
A brief though hard rain blew through town late this afternoon. Winds tossed the trees back, and forth. Leaves filled the air. All that Wizard of OZ stuff on steroids.
Later that evening I went out for a walk on the Parkway. Eastern Parkway in fact. This street began as a deer trail. Later a Native hunting path. Then in colonial times a horse, and carriage track.
In the early 20th century an auto highway with parkland on it's sides.
In the early 20th century an auto highway with parkland on it's sides.
Here is where I lived, and played as a child.
Time, and circumstance have brought me back to where I began.
So many changes. I recall all the Whites fleeing to their 'Burbs when Coloreds, and Hispanics started to come in. Now their grandchildren are here. Back from their strange exile in the land of Bar-B-Q pits, and Segregated schools.
So many changes. I recall all the Whites fleeing to their 'Burbs when Coloreds, and Hispanics started to come in. Now their grandchildren are here. Back from their strange exile in the land of Bar-B-Q pits, and Segregated schools.
They're welcome as all are here.
Walking tonight along the Parkway I heard the symphony of languages that so marks this Emerald City. Haitian French Creole Russian varieties of Spanish Romanian Mandarin various sorts of English,...I think I even heard a few bars of Standard English in the Symphony's adagio.
I couldn't live anywhere else.
I sensed autumn.
Just a very slight aroma. The fall scent was in the air after the storm. It was warm, and humid yes, but the breeze had an edge of coolness about. In the same way you sense spring in very late winter...a cold breeze yet with a faint warm edge.
Just a very slight aroma. The fall scent was in the air after the storm. It was warm, and humid yes, but the breeze had an edge of coolness about. In the same way you sense spring in very late winter...a cold breeze yet with a faint warm edge.
The Sun, and Moon have chased each other through the seasons. We have lived another summer, and now prepare for short days cold nights, and the turning of the leaves.
A Wonder.
"Let folks be."
I was chatting with a FB comrade about Trannie folks. I've known Trans Souls throughout my life starting in fifth grade. That had to be in 1961 when I was 11. My playmate Joey across the street was so blessed. He suffered his whole life. His family except for his older sister was cruel to him. My mom protected him as much as she could given the customs then. He was over at our house often.
I was chatting with a FB comrade about Trannie folks. I've known Trans Souls throughout my life starting in fifth grade. That had to be in 1961 when I was 11. My playmate Joey across the street was so blessed. He suffered his whole life. His family except for his older sister was cruel to him. My mom protected him as much as she could given the customs then. He was over at our house often.
He so loved the electric train layout my dad built in our basement. I remember a few times when we were kids. He took his secret makeup kit, and made me up. My mom said when she found us it was alright, "...but only in the house."
The kids on the block were for the times unusually cool. I mean he was just Joey. His family remained unkind. In 1979 in his late 20's Joey took his life. He could suffer no more.
In my late teens twenties Queer life I met more "Two Soul" folks as I wandered about. Two Souls the Native Peoples call them,...makes sense to me. In time a journalist friend with the radio station where I worked made the transition. Them things the operations is complicated, and painful. She's now a profoundly proud trans-Musician.
It's simple, "...Let folks be."
"My dreams are haunted, but my friends make me laugh."
No comments:
Post a Comment