Monday, December 18, 2006

How much more?

How much more crap does anyone really need? Come on, people, Last year's digital camera is good enough this year, and you've got the one from the year before that sitting on a shelf somewhere, all dusty & dead batteried (but, hey, that Canon Rebel digital SLR is one hot puppy!)

Cried over love

This morning, I had the most intense dream, so real. It was me & it was you & we were young & in Love & doing all those special young and in love things; not because we have to or should, but because we want to. Simple little things, meaningless except for the thought, and the little teases that actually mean something.

I awoke, cried so hard while brushing me teeth I made those gut-wrenching crying noises. I cried all through me shower, I cried on the way to church when I tried to share it with a friend, and, damn it, I'm crying now.

Because I could have had that life, that love, but life's fucking timing together with my general cluelessness about life & love screwed it all up. And because now I am oldish and fattish and just the angry old man I knew I'd grow up to be. And no one saves you from that. No lost love decides to give it up for a chance with that.

Nothing kills the pain. It hurts so deep I can't think about anything but those images, love so true, and cry.

It's nothing, really. Just the shitty truth of life.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

To bed, to rise

And over and over again.
Migraines have left me nothing to be proud of,
left me no pride nor reputation,
left me nothing that was me.
And all the rest was squashed by you.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Chill

There is a chill in the air,
like the frosty breeze rolling off a glacier.

And now days later,
a steady flurry of snowflakes,
large and small,
flutter earthward,
white silhouettes against a wall of dark cedars.

Monday, November 20, 2006

First light

First light of Adirondack day,
Silvery blue behind ominous grey.
Would but I could only stay
beside clear streams that ever say,
in voices hushed of crystal spray,
"silent thy thoughts and seize thy day."

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Slow life

Life moves to fast beyond these mountains, our chosen home.
(and sometimes too damn fast here)

Gray Mountains

Scuttled clouds top thr green-grey horizon,
pale grey shielding
slivers of paler blue.
Thus returneth I to my beloved, my life, Adirondack,
streaming water like tears,
as she prepares to settle into winter's long night,
snow, beautiful white, on her placid brow.

Monday, November 13, 2006

That Look: Waiting at the Airport Gate Lounge

Who teaches attractive young ladies that look, where they instantly size you up & determine you are insignificant at best, repulsive at worst? It shows in their eyes, their faces - a "don't EVEN think of looking at me again" look.

To be honest, I don't really think you are pretty - not in that way. Just another something to look at.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

That Look: Waiting at the Airport Gate Lounge

Who teaches attractive young ladies that look, where they
instantly size you up & determine you are insignificant
at best, repulsive at worst? It shows in their eyes, their
faces - a "don't EVEN think of looking at me again" look.

To be honest, I don't really think you are pretty - not
in that way. Just another something to look at.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Some People

Some people have a knack for bringing out the best in others, leaving others the better for having known them.

I,
I am not one of those people.
In my wake, I fear,
are those who I have burned,
those who's potential I have quashed.

Hard on myself, I know, but - I am not that person

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

NALMS Indy 2006

NALMS Indy 2006

The new stadium at night

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama.

NALMS Indy 2006

NALMS Indy 2006

Downstairs in my suite

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama.

NALMS Indy 2006

The new stadium

The new stadium under construction

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama.

NALMS Indy 2006

NALMS Indy 2006

The old RCA dome from my balcony

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Flight to Indy

Flight to Indy

Semi-granola girl at Logan airport, watching something on her mac laptop through Bose headphones

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Day in the life of a limnologist 2

Day in the life of a limnologist 2

Sampling the south basin of Mohegan Lake

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama.

Day in the life of a limnologist

Day in the life of a limnologist

Heading out to sample Mohegan Lake

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

C.F. Martin Factory

C.F. Martin Factory

The new museum building at Martin Guitar Factory built to look like the old brick factory.

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama. Click to see more.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Visit to C.F. Martin 02

Visit to C.F. Martin 02

My babies hanging out tonight

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama. Click to see more.

Visit to C.F. Martin

Visit to C.F. Martin

Big hotel room Easton Pa, 5 miles to Nazarath. Taking in my 73 Martin in morning!

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama. Click to see more.

Another road trip

Another road trip

Another long road trip, down state. View from 84 rest area

Posted straight from my phone with Nakama. Click to see more.

Silent - 2AM 10/12/06

Silent the voice
that ever once loved you.
Careless the heart
that ever once tried to.

-----------------------

Words.. Just words.
And not about you.
My eyes still see the beauty of each day.
My spirit still soars
as I view the Master's hand all around me; when ever, where
ever I am.
Yet,
it is the curse of the Gemini,
this poet's heart & soul.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Meredith - 9/6/06

This is going to be tough,
already is tough.
And I feel guilty, responsible, somehow.
My bad choices affecting the lives of loved ones.
God's wrath.
Although that puts rather more importance on me than is deserved.
I am just a nothing, like all of us:
loved by Christ, but no real part in any grand scheme.
Love thy neighbor, feed my sheep -
the one great commandment & the grand commission.
A tool where you find yourself,
but placed there by God?
I've always thought so, prevenient grace and all,
but others argue "No, just one in a multitude & if not you, then the next fellow."
And yet, among the living, life goes on.
Diminished by each passing, or so I feel today.

Pockets full - 9/6/06

Jesus, my suitcoat pockets are overflowing with funeral programs & memory cards. I can't hardly take it no more. Not worth suffering any more unhappy years.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Sunrise, Cook's Pond 8/19/06, 5am

Silver streaks on the horizon
locked in magenta sky
reflecting w/silhouetted trees,
crescent moon & Jupiter rising.
Barred owl calls, deep in the woods.
Lily pad & pickerel weed,
spike rush & watershield
rest dark on still waters,
dark grey on dark steel.
A catbird cry joins the never-ending cricket chorus
while faintly the call of a loon
floats over from the big lake.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Drive to Chatham

Film of my ride through the Adirondacks to Chatham NY to attend the memorial of a friend and fellow musician.

See also: In Memory

Emily's Race 09-23-2003

Emily in a Cross-Country Run - Girls Modified a few years back

Mathew's Big Hockey Play

Mathew makes a save in hockey. This is an old film from a few years back.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

In Memory

If the measure of a man
is the size of his heart
and the number of lives
deeply touched in knowing him,
then Kevin Joseph Frances Hagen
was as large as they come.

Open & giving,
not for himself nor personal gain;
that was Kevin to the core.
He embraced all he met,
big grin & warm interest,
thrilled by each new meeting,
excited to share his time,
eager to teach or learn.

We are left blessed
to have known him,
enriched by his goodness,
wanting just one more hour
to bask in his warmth.

Thanks for the memories,
Kevin J. Hagen
3/21/53 - 7/19/06

See also Drive to Chatham

Friday, July 21, 2006

Naught that I am

I am nothing:
a speck in time,
air breathed in,
an exhale.
A proverbial speck,
a disappointment to myself,
a disappointment to my Creator.
Barely a ripple shall mark my passing
in the great pond of life.
Though I see beauty all around me,
my vision seems naught but a curse,
my gifts go wasted by my own inadequacies,
my propensity to failure,
my inability to follow through.
Though life & love you may not miss me,
naught that I am, I shall miss you.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

In memory, introspectively

What to say at the loss of another friend?
At 46, one per year is too many too soon.
And each one leaves me remorsefully reminded of the poor effort I have made to be a friend.
So much unknown, so little shared,
selfishly I float through life
giving little, learning nothing.

I grieve at the loss,
at opportunity lost,
still too hung up on myself to be any comfort to loved ones left behind.

Kevin, I shall never play "Colored Aristocracy" on the banjo without thinking of you;
haven't been able to for the past two years,
since you taught it to me, in fact.

Big, gentle, kind men amaze me,
you no less than any,
as you patiently gave of yourself to give that song to me.
Forgive me if I threatened you
as you faced your mortality.
I hoped only to give your Beth,
amazing in her own right,
incredibly strong & loving at your side to the end,
a little bit of hope to carry on,
a friend in her dark hours.

I grieve for hearts so in love,
separated so soon by life's inevitable end.
I admire that deepest of loves,
jealous in a way for the shared experience
that forges two hearts into one for all eternity.

And, still,
life goes on.

Not very poetic, I know,
Beth, but please accept my
deepest, heartfelt sympathies.
Know that I am here
& there for you
should you need a friend.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

The Dance

Do you remember how it was?
How it felt?
That flush of new love,
heart-rapping, breathe-stealing.
Every touch electric,
every kiss a bolt of heart-stopping lightening.
Your face flushing warm, loins ache,
slow exploration of new territory,
hands slip beneath cloth
finding spots that set you free,
drove you wild, expanded your soul.

I'd like to relive young love with you,
if you'll have me.

We are . . .

we are what we are
11/6/04

we are
-----what we are
we are
----- what we make of ourselves
we are
----- what others allow us to be
we are
----- what we allow ourselves to be

do not be confined
----- by who you think you are
----- who you were
----- or who others make you out to be
allow yourself to be amazed
----- by how others see you
----- how you are many things

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

The night weeps

Darkness falls, black, starless.
Rain pelts hard
on a forest sans silluehete.
Tears drown on a night like this,
and anguished cries fade silent
against a damp & moss-covered wood.

My tears fall for you.
My cry rents for you.
You, living one day at a time,
laying with death each night.
How is it you still smile?
And still light my life?

The night weeps
and the tears wash clean the night
bring forth a new day
a day of light & life.
For some the first, renewed
yet others the last evermore.

If I could
take your hand
hold you close
let the rain wash over us.
Each breath, each heartbeat shared,
would you honor me with your soul?

Thursday, June 22, 2006

42°00'54"N by 74°00'00"W elev. 270'

Transient people
baking on white-blocked pavement
seeking rest, relief & a bite to eat,
squinting into bright-lit heat.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Doubt

Doubt
is like a large, black spider
beside your pillow,
waving its legs in your face
in the middle of the night.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Psalm 31:9-16

9Have mercy on me, O LORD, for I am in trouble;
My eye wastes away with grief,
Yes, my soul and my body!
10For my life is spent with grief,
And my years with sighing;
My strength fails because of my iniquity,
And my bones waste away.
11I am a reproach among all my enemies,
But especially among my neighbors,
And am repulsive to my acquaintances;
Those who see me outside flee from me.
12I am forgotten like a dead man, out of mind;
I am like a broken vessel.
13For I hear the slander of many;
Fear is on every side;
While they take counsel together against me,
They scheme to take away my life.
14But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD;
I say, "You are my God."
15My times are in Your hand;
Deliver me from the hand of my enemies,
And from those who persecute me.
16Make Your face shine upon Your servant;
Save me for Your mercies' sake.

The way I was feeling . . .

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Early Ice Out • April 11, 2006

Silver filigree of thin ice reflecting a grey sky.
Dark water reflecting the browns and evergreen of surrounding hills,
naked but for the deadwood of winter
and patches of grimy snow in shaded pockets.

Lone bald eagle circles the lake --
seeking fish or partner, I do not know --
circling, circling, then sails over the distant hill
to find his fortune in food or love elsewhere.

Ice out in the Adirondacks means mud on the trails,
trout on the line, and the blossoming of crocuses and snow drops.
Spring is a beautiful time, if you like grey skies
over a brown and grey landscape.

And then THE SUN!
Warm beyond warmth soaking sun-starved flesh
of bare arms and upturned faces.
Heart and soul rejoice for Spring!

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Cold Wind

a cold wind blows
howls through naked trees
chills me to the bones
and I'd love to snuggle into bed
under the weight of a couple of quilts
and watch the grey day pass
slowly by the window
as your soft skin passes
gently under my caressing hand.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Hockey's Last Days

7:11 on 3/13
And we've seen all the hockey
this season will bring.
It's high time its over
though a sad reminisce --
Until baseball & track
it is something to miss.

But spring will be bounding
from these damp mountain dells
bringing seasons of green to
these grey wooded hills
When the water from pack ice
will once again flow
sparkling in sunlight and cold as the snow.

And the sport of all outdoors will beckon and call
and draw us to haul guideboat down from the wall
to seek anew ventures as old as the hills,
as old as the erratics
that idly stand by
watching mere mortals pass
with all permanence of a mayfly.

Monday, March 06, 2006

Eat Crow • Live Right

The true measure of a person
is not in having done no wrong,
but is in how they have fixed
the wrongs they have done.

Some days,
you should eat a lot of crow.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Jesus Hates The Yankees†


Yes, son, Jesus does hate the Yankees. And you can buy a teeshirt to tell the whole world at Busted Tees: Jokes You Can Wear.


Humour - Jesus loves everybody!

Friday, February 24, 2006

How the chickadee

How the black-capped chickadee
in blowing snow so happy be?
Flitting cheerful tree to tree
As if Spring its heart can see.


Image source: Birds of Fort McMurray (Northern Alberta)
by Robert McDonald

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Shallow friends are no friends at all

The hurt is deep
when you learn
the true shallowness
of friendship.

Isaiah 43:18-19 (NKJV)
18 "Do not remember the former things, Nor consider the things of old. 19 Behold, I will do a new thing, Now it shall spring forth; Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness And rivers in the desert.
Jeremiah 45:5 (NKJV)
5 And do you seek great things for yourself? Do not seek them; for behold, I will bring adversity on all flesh," says the Lord. "But I will give your life to you as a prize in all places, wherever you go." ' "

Saturday, February 11, 2006

February For Real

This is February for real -
crystal clear and brutal cold.
Each trip to the woodshed taken with measured eye.
Each wheelbarrow full one load less left behind to heat the next
arctic night falling on pulse-shattering day.
The race is on,
dwindling woodpile against
lengthening day.

But we who live here know,
the sun is heat
and powerful even at glacial temps
and so sport shorts and tees
when others think of frosty freeze.

This is the weather of towering mountain peaks and infinite stars.
Who could complain about that?

Saturday, January 28, 2006

A Pirate Visits at Midnight

aka Each New Day: clarified {see previous entry "Each New Day" for fun and games}

Prologue
I look back now at
dark vacuum passed
warped time poor spent as
iconoclast.
"Choices, me laddy boy,
choices," he said.
Then he turned and he spit
and he scratched at his head.
"It's all about choices, now,
each bloody morn.
Do ye face them wiv grace, boy?
Do ye rend them with scorn?'

"Choose wisely, me laddy,
choose wisely," he said.
"cause it's tumble or travel
when ye first roll from bed."

"And nowest ye know whot means
them when they say,
'Aye, be making the best now
of each dawning day. '"

Epilogue
A little Pirate Code:

Damnable near thee Inn
Me Bandanna nether lie
Nene hen diner tambala
He be enter Mandala Inn

Linen be Eden Amaranth
Maharani been lend net
Anathema been rend nil
Nee hint darn amenable

Friday, January 27, 2006

Each New Day

Each New Day: a pirate drops by around midnight for a chat What he is doing here, I do not know. No, not every day, once. A pirate doesn't drop by every DAY around midnight! - ONCE! Subtitle, get it? Subtitle too Subtle? {har har} Geezum!

{Insert "???" here. That thing, you know, that think that precedes the stuff that is. No, not an introduction, nor words of critical acclaim. the PROLOGUE! Yeah, that's it. Here it is. the PROlogue}

(But first, the author wishes to thank a few folks}


Acknowledgements

I'd like to thank Mrs. Bricknell, my first grade teacher (we used to call her Mrs. Brickwall, but she had the best paste in the school). A special family thanks to M & M & Emily.

Ooh, and let us not forget that one special lady out there, and you know who you are. Yes you do, oh, yes you do, You do. I'll just type out the alphabet until I get to the letter . . . well, no, that's not gonna work. Hmmmmm. Well, honey, dear, I was jes foolin'. You knows it was you I was meanin' the whole time! Smoochie smoochie smoochie!
Aw, Baby. You know I didn't mean nuthin' by any of that stuff I was saying.
Prologue
I look back now at
dark vacuum passed
warped time poor spent as
iconoclast.
{um, end prologue. There's no chapters, so I just thought I'd point out that the prologue was over so you'd not that what follows is now the content to which the title refers.}

{Sorry for the intrusion. Just wanted to clarify the flow. Guess I kinda broke it up instead. Well, now you know how it goes, so you can go back to the top and read it and ignore all this stuff here inside the brackets and all and it'll be just the way the author intended it to be.


Just wanted to remind you again, the prologue is over, what follows is the main text, the logue so to speak. There will be no apilogue.

Although, come to think of it, the final stanza makes a pretty fair epilogue. I'm not so sure about having the protagonist carry the epilogue, though. Sort of steals my thunder.

Well, enough from me. Here we go. Or you go, anyway, if you made it this far and elect to madly go the rest of the way.}


"Choices, me laddy boy,
choices," he said.
Then he turned and he spit
and he scratched at his head.
"It's all about choices, now,
each bloody morn.
Do ye face them wiv grace, boy?
Do ye rend them with scorn?'

"Choose wisely, me laddy,
choose wisely," he said.
"cause it's tumble or travel
when ye first roll from bed."

"And nowest ye know whot means
them when they say,
'Aye, be making the best now
of each dawning day. '"

Epilogue

{OK. So I lied. Here it is. The epilogue. But of this was a limnological poem, the epilogue would be at the top and you would find a hypologue here at the bottom. Now there's something to ponder.}
Darn. And to think there was actually some serious insight in this thing before I started adding all this trash around it. MmmmPerhaps. HmmmmMaybe there's some significance to that, hmmmmm?
{scritch scratch scritch at the chin} Aw, Baby. You ain't still mad at me, are you?


Aarrgh!"Psssssst. Hey. You. Yeah, you. Over here. Come on, come on. I haven't got all day. But I've got me a tale of a special lady. Her identity has been anagrammatized in this here pirate code I am about to recite. Arrgh, they be real words I'll be recountin' to ye, lassies, and don't ye be makin' no fuss on 'em, neither. They may be be as smelly and foreign as ambergris, but they be right good as gold to a pirate as me an' don't ya go forgettin' it.

DAMNABLE NEAR THEE INN
ME BANDANNA NETHER LIE
NENE HEN DINER TAMBALA
HE BE ENTER MANDALA INN

LINEN BE EDEN AMARANTH
MAHARANI BEEN LEND NET
ANATHEMA BEEN REND NIL
NEE HINT DARN AMENABLE

{Pirate code courtesy of me, with a little help from the Internet Anagram Server. Heh, dream on! It doesn't work in reverse!}

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Snowy morn

A Downy Woodpecker taps gently
on the stub of a maple branch
Frosted hillsides in the background.
Red squirrel sneaks out of a brush pile
pauses to look around then hops across the snowy ground.
Nuthatch flits overhead
calling and twitching as it springs tree to tree.

Life proceeds, new year or not,
winter be damned,
seen or unwatched.