8-31-14

well, it's been cooler lately but still waiting for fall to get here
haven't had much to say lately and still dont really have much to say
the wasps aren't as active today, only seen one thus far
and the cats...well, the boy cat is sleeping in the bay window
and the girl cat is hiding somewhere, probably also asleep
maybe i too should be asleep as well
i feel ok, i guess, the war wages on on these frontlines
a play toy, a dogs chew toy, a cat's ball of yarn, a boxers punching bag,
a shooting range target, a color by number coloring bookthat sums up how i've been feeling lately, it seems
all i do is cogitate or ruminate or whatever word it is
i also dream, but lately, dreaming has been difficult
strength is waning again, will power is also waning
it's all like waves of the ocean, highs, lows, and the inbetweens
big waves, small waves, and sometimes even roaring rapids
you can swim or inner tube it or get a boat or surf board
there is also the option of drowning, but that seems harder
than actually swimming.
stomach growls loudly on a deafened mind
ignoring the rumble and beckon for nourishment for just a little while
and now i stare at this blank and empty wall
a small cobweb or spider web has formed up in the corner
near the ceiling, just another chore to add to the list of things to do today
and now....well...now i guess its time to answer the beckoning of my
growling stomach as well as begin to work towards the list of things to do
i press on and float away

8-21-14 with the arid air

the arid air weighs heavy on the shoulders of normalcy
normalcy that we all know well.
the arid air, although invisible and weightless
weighs so heavy that we slouch in our chairs and couches
we get massages and to go chiropractors for relief.
the arid air, hard to breathe in, hard to sense
persistently there, everyday, and more so on those
days when we're wanting change or a vacation
more so on those days when we think back on memories and dreams
the arid air, the oh so arid and stale air
it chokes, it holds, it pushes us down and holds us there
invisible, yet powerful, more powerful than flooding waters
the arid air, the arid and stale air

hot day
i feel ok, no sign of the cats today, probably see them later this evening
no sign of the wasps flying to and from the neighbor's roof either
hmmm, strange....really need a vacation from things
wouldn't it be nice to have a vacation from life
life as we know it, jump into a different life for a while
or jump into someone else's life for a change
that would be interesting.
but, the only vacations one can take are to another place
for a visit for a while. sight see, then it's back to
the stale arid air of normalcy
well, i guess i may never really know what the life of normalcy
is like, considering all things in my life now.
i had these dreams and ideas and desires
but watched them all slowly float out of my reach
is there really such a thing as a life of normalcy?
normalcy differs from person to person the way i see it
although there is a "staple" life or life of normalcy in society
with the getting married, having kids, and a house, and all.
a staple normalcy of having your own family i guess.
this dream, even though, there's still a chance for it, has
already begun to pass me by, although i try to keep my weakened
grip on it tightened so i don't lose it completely.
most dreams and ideals and desires, i've let go of long long ago.
some of which i was forced to let go of, others i let go of so that i'd
keep my sanity, and others well......time doesn't stop for anyone
there's no pause button or no slack for those that fall down.
im still riding in this car blind, blind through a cave during the
middle of the night, no sight, no sense of direction, crashing.
i still dream, i still hope, i still wish, i push on through to the spaces
and corners of my mind....of dreams and heaven
i push on still

a blank 8-15-14

my mind is blank and empty
the empty cup at least shows signs of
once being filled,
the empty plate, the blank blackboard
all show signs of being filled
i guess my mind does too with the memories
and dreams and pains and aches
the could haves and should haves and would haves.
i ache, my mind aches in it's blank emptiness
the girl cat is sleeping in her usual spot on the back of the couch
i wonder how her sleeping dreams are going, if she's even dreaming
the boy cat is in the bay window sleeping as well
and again i wonder how his sleep dreams are going, if he's dreaming
the wasps still scurrying in and out of the crack in the neighbor's roof
what cyclical routine lives they live, well, i suppose we're no different
than they, scurrying along going to work, taking kids to school,
cooking food, scurrying slowly to what and where?
of course i dont have kids so i wouldn't know anything about that
the hustle and bustle of the everyday, of the routine
the routine, with all it's struggles, all it's pressures
pushing you, pushing you and pushing you
to where and to what? and for what?
the cyclical routine of my writing
the cyclical routine monotony of my writing
who am i? where did the little ritalin boy go?
the boy that was unaware of pretty much everything, really
the little boy that was sometimes scared of the dark
the little boy with the unlimited imagination
the little boy that dreamed and wished and wanted
the little boy that tried his best......
oh well, thinking back on this is sad for me
i sit staring at a turkey and swiss sandwich
my stomach feels the hunger and yet i refrain from eating
and i type these words here.
anyway, the persistance of hunger and the lack of meaningful words
pushes me to eat now
i.......i........i dont know.

8-9-14

and so the heat arrives again with the high temperature
of 103 or 104 degrees fahrenheit yesterday
the wasps are at their usual coming and going from the neighbor's roof
the girl cat sits on the couch watching me,
the boy cat lays in the bay window
i feel ok, just ready for mid october temperatures to be here
my mind has been having writer's block lately, or so it seems
even now as i type this
there will come a day, when i will no longer have anything to say
rather it be death that silences me or just the monotony or pain of life.
i guess this happens to most people, really....eventually.......
being silenced by life itself, the monotony, the unpleasantness, the sadness
the oppressions, the hatreds, the rejections.
i wonder if one can be silenced by the good things in life?
hmmm, something to ponder as i meander along
i suppose there's a method to it all, but especially with having something to say
i haven't found that method, not that im searching for it,
i just write out when something comes to my mind.
like the other day something came to mind, but i only tossed it onto
the social media that is twitter and this is how it went:
"he took a breath in and held it with his eyes closed, just for a little while.
time stood still as his mind rushed like the river waters.....and then he cried."
now when i read it i feel there's more to it:
"he took a breath in and held it with his eyes closed, just for a little while.
time stood still as his mind rushed like the river waters.....and then he cried.
he cried just the way his mind's waters rushed as fast, as strong
the tears tearing at the fabric of his woven thoughts
gently woven together, delicately from experience and exposure"
anyway, the wasps fly, the cats sleep and they are none the wiser of the
waters in my mind
i write on, i push on, i hold on(the truth of it all), i hold on

8-2-14 with my time card

i punch my time card the same as the others
i walk this line i was set to walk, channeled like a river through woods
there's no flooding over the banks when it doesn't ever rain
(this is not complete, or maybe it is?)

the weather has been magical the past few days
cooler temperatures and rains here and there
the girl cat is eating and the boy cat is not around
i look out the window here sometimes and i've
noticed that my neighbor's house has a crack
where two parts of her roof merge together
and either yellow jackets or red wasps have
taken up residence in there.
i watch them fly to and from the crack
during cooler temperatures, there's not as much
coming and going, but when it's hot out
they're always coming and going
when i sit and watch them i often think about how
i rarely think about them when i walk by that space
between the two houses when im taking the trash out
bittersweet dream last night when i slept
woke up with some tears on my face and pillow
i feel ok
im still wandering, meandering along
trying to hum or sing a nice song
but walking for this long
falling for this long
you have to wonder when you're going to crash
when you're going to hit the ground.
i push through still