Trainride Of The Enigmas
All aboard. People I very much appreciate:
Thursday, February 23, 2023
Monday, January 2, 2023
SECOND COMPOSITION OF ONE
In an attempt to unboggle this bloggle, I posted its photo and poem on "Invalid's Workshop" --a poetry blog I've maintained without whack for 14 years. It gained 16 views this week but no comments, which is unusual. I have transferred its photo and text here, to this blog to see if any comments come through. It is called
The composition of one:
Up? Down? How
Does one tell time
When time is done?
An end undone or
Begun in infinity--
Divinity calls, even from
Faces fixed in walls.
I'd sure appreciate any comments on this poem here to ease solicitude re. mechanical lack or general whack. I do not understand either one and welcome assistance.
Monday, December 26, 2022
Friday, November 11, 2022
Toward My Birthday
Not too long from now I will be 73 years old, which means I predate Democracy (perhaps I still do, but questions remain). There is an old
scar from sternum to navel incurred during a high school P.E.unit on machete juggling. My neck? there is a scar halfway around from my vague insult to the king --legally considered only half an insult punishable half a beheading.
I guess my job now is using geriatric tissue to hold these scars together.
Wednesday, September 7, 2022
Tuesday Update Enigmatically Belated
This was written yesterday evening. I look back deliriously from 4 pm Wednesday enjoying a comparatively frigid 106F
Since getting out bed this morning I have felt confused, threatened. You? Hope not. When Vineyard -- a census designated community 5 miles from Sacramento-- between Wolfe Heights and Sloughhouse wakes its designated census to 100 degrees Fahrenheit then amps it up to 118 degrees by 3p.m. we patriotically head for the wineries. My favorite is Woodbridge Cabernet on the rocks.
Now it's nearly 6 and temperature has dropped only to 115. Short blasts of fire: Arrivals are signaled same as when you open a hot oven door. The wave of heat passes among bar patrons, trying to make our bloodstreams connect.
I return now to Wednesday and its mere 106F temperature. We live and love and enter the whims of weather, the future. I am a rational man but still,
Sunday, August 28, 2022
What this has to do with healing is exemplified by recent experience with protracted drought and pandemic. I hadn't had so many dear neighbors and friends drop dead since the Vietnam War. We of that generation called it euthanasia, and were much pleased and surprised when Nixon (of all people!) pulled youth out of Asia.
Enough. There's some sadness in this post. Although I'm reading my favorite humorists while recuperating, I also sneak into Chas. Bukowski; "...those who escape hell, however, never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that."
I have also exercised my addled brain on history; lately studying Henry VIII, a monarch of the Tudor family --replaced in1603 by the Fourdoors. Carriages got longer. Good night.
Thursday, June 16, 2022
The Return Of E(a)rnest
"It's me, Geo., long time no see."
"Hmmm, 4 years by my count. You haven't changed a bit!"
"Well you have. What's that you're leaning on?"
"It's my cane, E(a)rnest. Keeps me from stumbling on uneven ground."
"Makes you look Old."
"In paved public, I hide it."
"I jam it down inside my pants-leg and look loads younger."
"Geo., I won't argue with you. I've spent the past 4 (and more) years studying human politics, as you know, and learned about partisan bellicosity, bowdlerization of humanistic constitutions "justified(?)" by shameless sophistry."
"Dear E(a)rnest, we haven't corresponded enough.Your learning is beyond mine. I can only claim age-related bouts of excrementitious mentality, and ask your patience."
"I love you too."