There are places alive with energy,
bright beaches hidden far away
in the back of clockwork minds,
dark places in alleys, on corners
in deserts, tundra, in the clouds of
planets remote and undiscovered
by keening eyes that would know
if only their heart could feel them.
Places
that know living days of warmth
unnumbered, unnamed,
places
that know storming chiaroscurro
tantrums of weather,
places
where night-long death sequences
are punctuated by resurrection
on the path of the new dawn,
Nature favors the circle
in all its greater and lesser forms
because...
ergo--
however...
and ever
and ever
Will be the questions, the answers
of nature's voice on the west wind
as my new love's lips envelop me
tonight by the shores of the river,
This place is alive--
We await the next resurrection
like we await our next breath.
Just went to get on line and say hi, and this poem came tumbling out like secrets from a snitch. I'll be away from home on family business for the rest of the week, but I'll be getting around slowly to say hi to all of you when I can throughout the week. If you are wondering, I'm putting a new engine in my car to replace the one that burst into flames a few weeks back with the help of a friend who knows what they are doing. In return, I'm painting and doing drywall in their house and garage in return, so the slate will be even. You all take care and I'll talk to you soon.
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35 charges of vandalism dropped:
"There are places alive with energy" Your blog is one of them.
Good luck with the car!
this piece is electric man "storming with chiarscurro"Wow!!!double Wow
Good writing.
Looks like they've put a tiger in your tank too. :)
Hey you scratch my back I'll scratch yours. That sounds like a damned good deal to me. Flames eh? I haven't been keeping up on journals and just recently started in on reading. Hope that you're well and good luck.
My goodness, Eric, how do you do it? Your poems are amazing.
Have a good week, and hurry back!
"and this poem came tumbling out like secrets from a snitch"
You rock, friend!
Best of luck under the hood!
That sunset is fantastic--did you take the pic? My sympathies on the blown engine--I recently had to have my transmission rebuilt. See you when you get back!
Casdok
Thanks for the luck, and extra thanks for the lovely compliment.
Sandy
Another one for the books, ehh?
Ivan
Thanks. Is that a WWII reference?
I hope I don't run into Tom Hanks and one of his damned sticky bombs!
Cheri
Yeah, it works out for the both of us. I hate painting and drywall--I would much rather be writing stories in grand grafitti style, but I'll deal with it. Considering the vast sums of money I'm saving, it's worth it.
And I even picked up a few side jobs that will be worth a couple hundred a day. I may be out of the area for a while.
Josie
Glad to see you! I was worried you were pissed off at me too!
Ahhh, thanks about the poem, of course. It's magic!
Singleton
Just like that, you know how it goes. The best stuff is an accident so much of the time.
I hope everything has been going well for you and all yours.
Missin ya!
Lana
I wish I could say that I did take that pic, but I didn't. I Googled sunset and found the best free domain pic I could. This one was a desktop theme!
The poem brings to mind John Lennon's "In My Life." Me, I'm very sensitive to place-memories.
That's an interesting barter, but it sounds great. Engines are so expensive, nowadays. Finding the labor to replace them is prohibative.
The last time I helped a friend replace an engine, neither of us knew what we were doing. I wound up breaking two fingers in the process. So consider yourself lucky.
Eric,
Have a great trip. woohoo, how i wish i was going with you, what a riot we would have, man, seriously. but here is what i wanted to say to you desert mystic, i know you don't mind me blabbering in your comment box. synchronicities are sign posts, circles, the collapse of logic on which our whole system and civilization is built, it is an inadequate and unsustaining explanation of the world, in your poetry you are trying to delineate an epyphyny, which is the ultimate goal of all artists and of course impossible, since language is linear and time is not which is the epyhyny, a moment outside of time in which one perceives the whole carlos castanettes,
but here is the hope, that i hang too anyway, that whilst it might not be possible to describe an epyhynhy in language, it may be possible, if an artist somehow removes the ego from the process to induce a tiny ephiphanic moment in the mind of the reader/observer, a minute twist of their brain or senses, a reorganisation of the senses, was that marcuse, i dont remember,an oh i saw it out of the corner of my eye but now its gone but it felt good moment, but as i was saying, anyway, eric, synchronicities, circles, gingatao, fillmore east, jazz is an improvised art form like life, blow man blow, sorry, time warp stuck in the late fifties, wheres my dean martin suit,
have a nice trip,
Good luck with the car and the drywall.
Your poem sounds more like the place we all want to go.
Sorry I've been AWOL.
I was reading about the universal life force last night--basically we call it energy, but it is something more. I feel that coming from this poem.
Hang in there, friend.
Damn man every single time I read something new from you I think it cannot, will not , no way be as good as the last. You proved me wrong once again! Have a safe trip!
I love "Storming chairaoscuro" and "tantrums of weather."
This poem was much needed on a rainy grey day. A cue to retreat into your mind is sometimes in order.
Hope all is well with the family and in the land of dial-up.
My comment will have to remain brief and simple, by my standards, for I sneaking blogging time at the Psychology Clinic. Shhh!
lovely ;)
It sometimes seems that those places r like that: perfect, where we really wish to go. But once we go there, they change. Like that saying: Everywhere is heaven without us.
Nature favours the circle, very Aristotelian.
The night long death sequences seem a little gloomy, but I'm glad resurrection follows.
Are the images from the dawn of the universe?
I sense renewal, the inevitable circle of change. Strong words in the last 2 sentences.
>this poem came tumbling out like secrets from a snitch
those are the best kinds...
X Dell
I almost broke two fingers yesterday, so I feel you there, sir. Ouch. Alas, they are unbroken and in fine hunt and peck condition.
There are so many places that bring meories to me without my returning to them. I'm at one right now, the first place I lived after moving to Michigan from Tennessee. The rush of remberance is incredible, the circle complete.
Thanks for the visit. I'll drop by as soon as possible.
Gingatao
If there is a time or a place for everything, it's amazing that they ever match up.
On the other hand, it's amazing that we can't more often make the proverbial place and the appointed time match coordinates in the universal fabric.
Often I think it's the people we meet, the other fellow travellers through the morass, the ethers who help to make places and times so important, so singular and so memorable. The Philmore would not be so grand a stage without them, the crossroads not so desperate if perhaps they are there with us at the corner.
Time is a latice in four dimensions. Friends are the bridge thyat allow us to cross from juxtaposition to juxtaposition, that make the going easier, who make the burden more and less, nothing and everything for their being there.
Brian
Thank your for your wishes.
And this is a place we have all been if we have met a soul and had to say goodbye, only to meet them again one day. Love at its unselfish, feelings at depth.
Enemy
Energy between souls, the "ties" that connect us to one another. Like invisible silver cords of the astral traveller.
We see it the same way, an energy and an entitiy itself, friendship itself being a vessel that contains it as well as to move the relationship forward.
Spongybones
Thank you for that. I try. Sometimes I don;t know that I succeed, but at least I can count on people like you to encourage me and let me know that I don;t strive in vain.
Charles
I worked those lines a lot. They were much longer originaly, but condensing them brought about that nice crisp poetic drama, that one-off sudden surprise.
Peace out.
Princess
Your secret is safe, but very appreciated. Shhh! I beez quite!
The sanctuary that we all have, though often it too is a loud place of swirling chaos at times. But that idea was alas on my mind as I wrote it. I haven't had a lot of time for reflection lately, but I take what I can when I can.
Yes, things are OK. Miss you all, you know.
Blanco
Indeed!
Glad to see you, my friend.
Edyta
What a beautiful and true statement. "Everywhere is heaven without us." How often we dream and mythologize about somewhere and someone, only to have it pale and fall short of our desire when we finally meet that person or place face to face.
Thank you for the visit and I am glad to see you, as always.
Crushed
The images were standard Googled fare, the bottom pic is in false light to amplify the colors and temperatures of the stars themesleves, the upper pic is just a standard sunset stock photo.
As for nature favoring the circle, it did seem most logical. The circle is the standard that any planet, star, and orbit follow, right down to atomic structure itself. Likewise, life follows trhat pattern. Old becomes new, friendships progress, fall away and come back together. It was an epiphany, to be sure.
Bemused
Renewal from a base of familiarity, to be sure. Infinity is not one long strand of events, but a multidimensional lattice work that we can climb, or ride along beside if we choose to.
The last part is about waiting for that change, waiting for the chance to reenter the grid and take our place in time.
Peace out, y'all.
Karoline
The ones that we can't help but speak, they stand on itchy feet, on the tip of out tongues, waiting to dive out and spill themselves all over the page.
I feel like that right now...
Thankk you all for your visits. I hope to get back soon.
The real world is just not relenting at the moment...
Alive with energy, that is your heart and soul Eric :)
Cazzie!!!
Alive with all the power of life itself.
I would love to embody this, but saddly enough, I fear I fall short.
Trying is poetry unto itself.
Ah, the good honest exchange of hard graft over currency. Money being the root of all evil, etc..
Tis true,
I've fallen back to bartering, but hey, it works out for me. This would be a very expensive, and therefore, very evil, venture if not for an exchange of services.
I'm whip tired, though.
I miss writing.
Treasure your freedom and mobility, sir.
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