distracted

A litany of something in the background
What was it?
"Replace the letter or letters with the letter or letters..."
"What fraction of boys is the least..."
Or something... you lost me at the second letter.
I'm staring at a brick and feeling very good about it.
This is a nice size brick
Painted white.
How odd... I generally don't like the look of painted bricks.
But there is something about this brick
Something unifying, well known.
Hello brick. Have we met?
Stare into it like it understands.
Can you read my thoughts?
I decide I'm certain that it can.
The brick sees all.
Sees the meltdown, smackdown, the lowdown
But still it stays.
I get the sense that the brick gives us the benefit of the doubt.
Knows our good intentions.
Is sure of love and lasting.

Or maybe just lacks the ability to go.
But no
I don't feel anguish or desperation
Or even the absence of a thing
The feeling is good
This is accepting
Even pleased.

"...underlined letter or letters and write the new word"
Like brick, trick, trip, slip, ship, shape, sea, swell, breathe, sigh, neigh...
Sorry. What?

diffraction

When things are right
I see rays of light dance across the bay
Music carries my day
I’m right at home
At home in my heart
And I rightly shine
Until I don’t

When things are right
Morning light marks the new day
Bringing the come what may
The world seems lush green
And wills my being
Until it won’t

When you and I are right
I am never happier in the worst of storms
The world and I get along fine
I can be what I am
Am what I be
That is
until
I’m not

face of the earth

A left and a right and a left-hop-skip
I think I've gone and hopped right off it

I've let myself dive into the persistent cloud-cover,
feeling the gray and gloomy days.
While lush mountains with their woolly green coats
flock the sulking Shepard.
Who sits on her rock and consoles her heart
drawing rivers with a stick in the mud
You see, the earth and the rain are playing a game
coaxing this crab from her shell.
For sit long enough on the most comfortable rock
and your bony ass will get sore
And your numb bum and the soft filtered sun
will cause you to stretch and to eye (unawares)
Whereupon Mother Kesey and her gang of merry pranksters
Swiftly sneeze you into the sky.

punkette me dit

My mash up of Punkette and MIKA:



And she says
why do these stairs hate me?
why do I fall down so much?
world has gained up on me!

And she says
I have so many scrapes
look here's another four
it's true her knees are cut and bruised

And she says
I don't want to play or jump
I just keep getting hurt
I try but then the world fights back

And she says
I give up on this world
Can I watch another show
The couch is the only safe place for me

And she says
as she bites the dust
as she hits the floor
you'll come give her wings
to go back for more

as she get's fed up
and needs to scream and shout
you'll shout with her too
and show her what to do

get up! jump to your feet
get up! come feel the beat
get up! feel the beat
Dance! dance! dance!

...


Really, just an excuse to post MIKA's latest release ;) Danse!

dreams

I have dreams.
Dreams of scaling El Capitan
Clamped to the edge of the world,
Drifting at the edge of space.
Dreams of tall pines and sap on my fingers
The sting of scraped knees and my breath
Caught as we sway with the wind.
Or being old and weaving loose ends
The loose ends of a fortunate life.
Loose ends that slip into a comfortable knit
With an old friend with the right loose ends.
Dreams of being unknown
But knowing myself
Just driving off in a new direction
And being exactly what I feel like being.
Or spinning these things
Bits of death and love and reaching far places
With an unseen touch into the web.
Into the ebb, into the bed,
Into... and
Out of my head.
I will not live in dreams
But dreams are the thing.
The things that fill up the vast empty spaces
An oil that carries heat from the fire
To everything cold
To everything real.

laying tracks

Sun shines off rails
Grass crisp to golden
And I imagine the clang from cow bells
Across the dusty path on some Italian mountain top
My body is the vessel I use bring myself into work in the morning
Back through the door at night
But I am the cool shadows
Rainbows cast through the air that sits on the edge of leaves
Those colors in my eyes
Breathing in the sun
The urge to dance in public
I am the same in any language
In any place
Its still me
Seeing sleeping bears in the hills
Willing to climb all the way to the very top
Just to slide down

- Christine

think I can

Reposted from "Gram at 5AM"

I like the train.
Sort of the same way I like wooden bowls or handmade baskets
Spice racks
This strikes me as strange.
Trains symbolize technology
Steel, speed
But from an era gone by.
And my pace on the train is slow
I notice things along the track.
The kinds of trees, where pools are or hovels hidden away from the street.
Old telephone poles left to stand with their scraps of cable cut.
I study the landscape the way you might examine the yarn you chose for knitting.
Riding the train gets me thinking about home and what's for dinner. Something served at the table with placemats and napkins. Ready for love and quality time.
It's all quality time.

shadow run

This morning was tough. Lots of reasons to stay in bed. My half-assed enthusiasm getting out the door was made up for by a mad dash from the car to train. I hope I remembered to turn off my lights.

The light now makes the world look like it has been cut out on black construction paper and lit from behind. Like that siloette of my brothers head he made in the second grade. The sky is a swirl of light blue and grey; everything else is still black as night.

Reposted from "Gram at 5AM"

summer days

Wow.
Seems I blinked April away. How did that happen? I'm now sunburned and ready to collapse in the bed at night with beaten muscles and a clear head.

I am loving our block. It's not exactly like where I grew up, but reminiscent of it. Kids play in the street, tag and hide and seek spills over into neighbor yards... I can tell my kids to "go outside and play" and they do, drawing neighbor kids out for random fun.

And I'm playing catch or basketball or tag right along with them. When do Moms stop doing this? I can't remember the last time I saw another Mom shooting hoops or playing catch with her kids. Did I miss a memo? Is there some etiquette book somewhere that I didn't bother to read? Oh I'll chat it up as much as the rest of the Mom's on the block, but I can't resist an invitation to play ball with one of my kids.

The happy result is a sunburnt and beaten body. Plus two kids that took all of about 2 minutes to fall asleep tonight. I think I'll join them.

Do you do or do you don't?

I never really realized how much working full-time takes out of you until I had the chance to not for a time. And it was a nice "not" because I was fortunate enough to do so without taking on too much financial stress. So my "not" was a course in finding natural rhythms and productive relaxation.

And wouldn't it be nice if we could all live like that, all the time? In a state of productive relaxation. Could be an oxymoron. But that's as best as I can describe it. Without knowing it, I began to look younger (amazing what consistent, sufficient sleep can do for you). And jumping head first back into my full-time career has felt like I've aged ten years in six months.

And in my idle moments (60 minutes worth) commuting in to work, the commutes of my recent history creep up into my brain. The rusted iron angel over a neighbor's door. Noticing cracks and colors and ... well you know.

So as the black awakens to dusty blue,
I'll ask this (to myself and you):
Do I want this life or do I don't?
Because if I'm here, that means I must.

hello hello

I was asked: Grab the nearest book, turn to page 56, read the 5th sentence. Just a whimsical exercise from the local independent bookstore. But I was idle this morning and I bit.

56th page
5th sentence

"I sit there thinking about how much courage it takes to live an ordinary life."

Seriously, sometimes things happen that really knock you on your ass, right? JHC. Damn. That's exactly what I'm sitting here thinking about. How did the universe know? And how considerate of it to alert my conscious mind of it.

Much sweeter than the swift kick in the pants that it usually takes for us to grasp hold of what's going on in our lives.

There's a bit of history here too that I should probably let you in on. That constant drive to be anything but ordinary. That's great. But it can land you in a place where you're never happy with where you are. It's never enough because you're not that super hero you think the world needs. And it takes courage to see that taking the ordinary things in your life (your wife, kids, job, ...) and really LIVING it is amazing. It's the stuff that makes the world burst and lets real joy into your life. That kind of living is where heroes come from.


I miss writing and I've missed your blogs. Some time away has made me realize that the exchange of words and ideas I have here is such a valuable component of my inner reflection. So hello again. I'll see you around.

Love,
CGram