An Attempt to Free This American Soul from Materialism
They gave you
a red-snapper,
one machinist says
to another,
because it’s
the most common type
of snapper.
Now, all you need to do
is season it
with a little salt
and pepper, paprika,
and lemon and bake it.
I would bake it in the oven.
A little olive oil?
Yes! a little olive oil
is good.
–
To turn a fellow bloggers phrasing, had an Odd Driving Thought today… (the link is there, so you should go check him out)
Today’s productivity is the results of yesterday’s Focus, willingness to adapt the routine, and care and attention for the present moment. I’d better put it to good use.
And the poem that followed…
Speak what you think today in hard words and tomorrow speak what you think in hard words again, though it contradict everything you said today.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance
Out for a walk and I realize that everything I know to be fact, through careful scientific observation, has been told to me. The things that I assume to be true, through my own experiences and observations, are but a myth.
Winter
What a weird way to experience this. . .
Something forgotten : everyone has a right to life.
no matter the purpose or value
I
I stood outside
on that cool night
watching the clouds
caught in streams
of wind pass me by.
seams stretched
by tufted fingers
and downy swirls
layering, stacking
the only distinctions
being darker and darker
The pines stood silent and watched
as I watched the moon
open up the clouds. For a brief
moment, maybe more.
Luminous
as if the light
were a broom
brushing away the cloud
and confusion
Layer after layer—
yet, the moon shone
through. And I, the
sentinel—
as if it needed an audience
the wake of clouds piling
back over the heart-orb
sinking deeper into these
inner layers
It’s lunchtime and here i am sitting in my van
parked in a grocery store parking lot, blowing my
nose in a used napkin. A napkin previously used to
blow my nose. Homemade vinaigrette sits on the dash
in hopes that the December sun is heavy enough to break
through the overcast and liquefy the coagulated coconut oil.
It won’t. And I realize that if I were sitting in my
Prius, instead of my work van I would satisfy so many
generalizations right now, with my pony-tail, writing
poetry, drinking kombucha. Maybe I don’t need the
Prius after all. Maybe the Prius needs me.
And the high-schoolers yell at each other across the
parking lot, desperate for attention, and the stay-at-home moms sit
in their vans, just a little longer, enjoying the silence that comes
from an afternoon car-ride nap. If i listen closely,
the traffic swells become fingertips of the beach, trying
to pull me back into her, while the douglas-fir gently wave goodbye.
Sitting under spectacles of spires
the rain falls like crows feet
hitting the street have you ever
wondered if there’s more than this
the bell rings four times
four times the bell rings and
you think you’ve found god
at the bottom of the stairs
by the gutter under St.
Ignatius’ chapel, but it’s mere
loneliness and green things in a
canopy of themes
reduce the family
the family crossing the street
to accents in your mind
in my mind
the accent is awailable
but when i try to let it
puncture my lips it slips
and there is space compressing
soaking the words with gasses
or fuel. In the infinite spaces of
my head there is a sanctuary
that i always have access to, yet
cannot reach through the hall of
mirrors. Herbavores bathed here
between the bitter fronds, varicose
tendrils, when i consume i consume
like they do. Green is the colour
i build these pretenses around
trying so hard to protect that
emerald city building
building a city that cannot last
outside we build up, but within
we build out to keep each
other out at a distance so we
can use the smartphone to
get a hold of each other get
a hold on reality get a grip
let it slip cause there’s nothing
more than this. Have you ever wondered?
Do you ever wonder?
where the escape button
got hid
Today I’m feeling rather productive in my productionlessness. My boss, however, disagrees.
