Tag Archives: meditation

Obscuring With Beauty

People learn things exceedingly slowly

Rarely understanding implications

Situations’ implications wholly

Searching out oversimplifications

Create palatable realities

Of noble & honorable people

Obscuring all of our venalities

We’re praying towards a false clapboard steeple

We resent all the unflattering news

Rejecting both the friendly & snarky

Rather than try to accept painful truths

That might let wisdom’s bold knowledge mark thee

Most people hide from their identity

When it doesn’t their ego benefit


Make America Good Again Sonnet

Hats Read: “make america great again!”

To sell mythical historical lie

Of colonial racism’s given:

Made it easier to be a white guy

“Make America Good Again!” we said

To point out the half truths in the red hats

America’s greatest with unions red

Coal miners, uneducated, earned lots

Our country is being let by its id

Brutally consuming its memory

We’ve become like some six billion ton kid

Rampaging back through bleakest history

Rest assured many will be sent to God

To assuage our damaged egos: that’s sad

I Weary of These Infernal Patterns


Rhyming Review: •The Gargoyle Hunters•

New York’s mood during metamorphosis
The “now” seems particularly cruel
Thus •The Gargoyle Hunters• will begin us
(This is today’s true literary jewel)

The meditations on what New York means
Complete with adolescent adventures
Of a free-range private school nerdy teen
All of which brought back my teen-aged culture

The relegated and crazy mother:
In an informal commune of borders
& the dashing obsessive father
Scavenging & barking out orders

A family painted on black velvet
Of private middle school dilemmas
Puberty and thievery’s strange couplet
Trapping our young Griffin in its clutches

Seeking approval & confederates
A scandalous collaboration’s made
Of two romantic thieving delegates
Who predate architecture’s colonnade

The father’s long term goal, disrupt the son’s
Immature middle school romances though
(But they do infect all the grown up ones)
It turns out we become the man we know

Iconoclastic rev’rence for icons
Is their spiral staircase of DNA
Though their collections give New York lesions
Their compulsions they cannot deny
Personalities’ personal suburbs
Those individuals on the outskirts
Of the mover’s & the shaker’s worlds
Are unfortunately too often hurt

The workers became shock troop of dreams
Marching right across convention’s front lines
To achieve the goals that the dreamer schemes
Little men enabling grand designs

In the end the dream is the loyalty
An all encompassing fidelity
That will become middle-aged pleasantries
Wrapped in older people’s sweet vagaries


Fate Sonnet in 5

Misfortune arrives

Upsetting our lives

Stealing what’s normal

Fairly informal


Maybe chemical?

Sometimes kinetic

Not copacetic

Bad things just appear

Far, sometimes near

No seeming reason

There is no season

Bad is not evil

Just life primeval 


This Morning’s Thoughts

So much has happened! Where to begin. Today I am up with S_______, she slept over for L_____’s birthday celebration. We went to BareBurger for dinner with C______, S______, L______, Linda and Stafford. We came home and had the patented pink cake I made. I went to a meeting earlier, and it was actually the second day in a row I made a meeting. I think I should make more meetings. I would also like to go to the gym more (I’ll stop shoulding on myself now).
Furthest in the rear-view mirror of my recent life is the fight I had with Deneene over facebook. I could include the details, but I will distill it down to the fact she feels aggrieved over something and we got into a back-and-forth “FUCK YOU!” battle over email. I lost sleep over it and wrote a poem or two in the angry insomnia. I have to say that I was feeling pretty low regarding all of this. I mean, I do think that Deneene is being a bitch and working out some sort of something in her life. But I’ve been sober long enough to know that when someone is vexed at you you might have done something wrong, even it it isn’t as calamitous at their anger says it is.  (On a related note, Linda has been vexed with me about me and I think that that is also related to her other outside feeling (which is not to say I am not a living nightmare for the well organized). I wrote a poem about that to to help me muddle through my thinking.
The thing I need to talk to someone about is the fact that I came back in contact with B-19. I saw a picture of her sister S_____ in a yoga pose as B______ B___’s girlfriend. (First I want to say that she dated a guy in ‘88 or ‘87 that I really didn’t think too much of, so it seems Gay [with B______] is a huge improvement.)
So I explained that I didn’t want to be some sort of stalker or “relic” that haunts her. Her response was really sweet.
B-19 wrote “Relic? No way. True friend from the past is more how I think of you.” I have to say that this positive recollection from 30 years ago is the balm that I needed after the ‘Neene thing. I was at a meeting yesterday and a young woman shared on her first anniversary and it brought all of these things together: Feeling like an asshole because of ‘Neene’s noise, feeling low because of how thinly our family nerves were frayed by the kids’ holiday visit and somethings unresolved.
I saw in M_____, the 1-year-speaker, the trajectory of the life I had when B-19 and I broke up (I guess I was readying myself for Linda, whom I’d meet a year or so later). I also saw my older daughter in her. Of course Thing 1 hasn’t manifest any of the shenanigans of the active alcoholic, but she has the determined will of someone sick with this disease, and I don’t look forward to her acting on the “hiding” with something besides overachievement.
So if I wasn’t a creep picking on Teen-Agers, but a man trying to love a woman, no matter how imperfectly, then who am I now? At the meeting I remember meeting B-19 in the hallway of a tenement next door to St Marks, she on her way to a party with Alcohol and me on my way back to the St. Marks “HOW Club” New Year’s fete. I was part of her crazy youth, but I wasn’t a controlling domineering asshole. I wore (& wear) the world like a loose garment. I want to keep strengthening that “mellow.”
I guess if I could change anything I would work harder on getting more things done. This brings me to the iPhone I lose myself in creation with all of the time. I have to say that I like the memes I make and the poems I write and the photographs I take with my gizmo. I don’t like the time I spend checking “likes” and “comments” from people with whom I am not terribly close with. There is a pleasure that seeing people’s lives unfold brings. (Just slipped into FB gossip for 15 minutes because I was looking for a picture.)
I am an imperfect man who enjoys his life as it is rather than trying to build the towers of respect (academic publishing, more long form thought.) I would like to get a little more of my James Baldwin “essay self” on. I would also like to write more fiction (Finish the Kiko story, Life before the wheels, etc). Lennox is up.
Two hours later
While I was washing the dishes I was struck with something else. I can’t remember it right now. This is why my iPhone isn’t all bad, because had I tweeted a note I would have the insight to work on.
I am reminded, trying to remember the thought, of an epiphany I think I first had at St. Malachy’s one Thursday night: “I gravitate towards -and favor the opinions of- people who dislike me: we have one thing in common, we both hold me in utter contempt.” I don’t know if this is self hatred or part of my open-minded desire for self improvement? I think I can make that a haiku:
Agree with haters/
We both think that I’m stupid/
(Only I am right)/
I think that my next “corrective scheme” is that I should dedicate some time to writing on my blog every day. I don’t want to just post poems there, but get into writing some of the thoughts I have when I am walking my dog and spacing out.
I should also find a way to free myself from my iphone.


Today’s Meditation (in Haiku)

43a. Escape from my life/
Working inefficiently/
On merest details/

43b. Escaping my life/
Working inefficiently/
On merest details/

44. Terrified of change/
Bullied by angry habit/
I just acquiesce/

45. I lead a charmed life:/
Universe shapes and guides me/
When I can* listen/
#haiku *will

46. My problems aren’t mine/
Problems are our shared futures/
Claims staked together/

47. I am a dreamer/
Absurdly concerned with thoughts/
Now and then #haiku’d/

48. Dreamers frustrate us:/
Their focus beyond real-life/
Accomplishes NIL/

49. Although dreamers do/
Embellish the ordinary/
With human filigree/

50. The useless filigree/
Of humanity’s dreamers/
Fertilizes us/