Saturday, January 29, 2005

Yawn, Cold Hockey Morn (edited)

So here I am, 2 hours of sleep, trying to wake up enough to drive to Potsdam to stand around a cold arena & watch hockey all day.

Oh, the watching is fun. It's the no sleep that'll be tough. Socializing with the other hockey parents. Shooting the shit with the guys like I was accidentally let into the wrong club (or barroom, as it were).

Trying not to flirt with the ladies - not too difficult in most cases.
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In the end, it wasn't as bad as all that!

Romantics Test

If I were to gently kiss your shoulder at 3 AM, would you half roll over and give me a sleepy peck on the cheek before snuggling in tighter, perhaps with a little purr? Or would you loudly announce the time in a don't bother me tone of voice?

I only ask because I long for the former & have grown weary of the later, to the point where every romantic shred of my soul cringes in darkness, repressed and unexpressed.

Albany flight, homeward bound.

EMB 170 Pittsburgh to Albany,
Pretty good crowd.
Fellow got pulled off at the last minute,
on an Albany plane with a ticket to LaGuardia.
& I got a seatmate @ the last minute.

Red Bull for the ride home.
Mmmmm. . . Red Bull & Skittles.
That ought to keep me charged for the long, cold, dark drive home!

Home. Home to my refuge, such as is.

1/28/05 8:25 pm

Heading North out of Pittsburgh,
fat orange moon on the Eastern horizon.
Lights strung out across the ground
like sodium vapor orange & incandescent whiteblue constellations
in a black velvet sky.

50-something cabin attendances,
old enough to be longretired stewardesses,
prepare to make the beverage cart circuit,
dispensing the ubiquitous pretzel pak.
Make mine a Bloody Mary, please.
OK, no vodka, but the mix tastes just fine!

1/28/05 9:03 pm

10 minutes to touchdown
1/28/05 9:32 pm

Home at last.
That's all for this whirlwind roadtrip!

1/29/05 12:47 am
Cedar Eden

Friday, January 28, 2005

Gatehopping in Pittsburgh

Mad dash to Gate B35
Gate change to B31
followed by another gate change to B29.
Looks like this is it,
last hop to Albany,
long drive to home
in sub-zero temperatures.

Boarding soon. . .

1/28/05 8:08 pm
Pittsburgh Airport Gate 29

Outbound to Pittsburgh

Indianapolis Airport,
Outbound to Pittsburgh.
Waiting at a gate,
sorrounded by travelers,
single & in pairs, and groups of three.
Chatting, discussing, business
while I sit near invisible.
Waiting for a flight,
bored with reading,
watching the sky turns gray with high clouds - a premonition of approaching
snow - and nightfall.

A group of three,
reviewing resumes,
discussing interviews,
deciding someone's future.
Not an envious job, but better their role
than that of the prospective hopefulls'.
Power I once had,
the pleasant power to give a chance to someone deserving,
hiring interns & staff.
I miss that.

Tme to board. . .

Full flight,
an Embraer 145,
with 1 seat left, and 2seats right.
Me, I'm left, next to the last row -
a window seat AND an aisle!
Too small for even my 1 tiny carry-on!

1/28/05 5:56 pm
Indianapolis Airport
1/28/05 6:17 pm

Thursday, January 27, 2005

introspective speck

Are you out there ?
Do you hear the ramblings
of this introspective speck ?
this inconsequential in the universe?
What purpose, what purpose?
What purpose serves I?
What consequence my thoughts
as I streak 'cross the sky ?

You love me ?
So you love me.
It matters not here.
No soft cheek to caress,
no whispering ear,
no love cast unspoken
to one who is near.
You love me ?
So you love me.
It matters not here.

A soul with love to give,
no one to receive,
is a sad soul indeed.
Worse is the love
that can not be shared.
It's a life that you choose,
so just be aware
my heart, oh my heart
You've crushed it in there.

Look in my eyes.
See what lies within
See what could be
See the depth of my pain.
My pain, true,
but do not discount
contributions of you.

OK, so its the rum talking.
Just get me on the ground, and to my hotel room
where I can commisserate in my aloneness.

1/27/05 8:50 pm
1/27/05 9:04 pm
737-300, seat 11A, westbound


Here I sit. Alone.
Washington National Airport.
No one to talk to, no one to call.
Like the beginning of my life,
the beginning of my consciousness,
the bulk of my memory -

1/27/05 7:32 pm
Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport

I have often been here,
in solemn inward retreat.
You might say it is my natural condition.
Natural, perhaps, but
not any more the pleasant for it.
That such a gregarious personality should also be
so rooted in introspectivosity.

1/27/05 8:11 pm
Westbound flight to Indianapolis

Ah, Bacardi and Coke -
a nectarous union of acid & alcohol,
esters and carbon rings.
Now if only they'd turn off that blasted seat belt sign!

1/27/05 8:33 pm
Westbound 737 to Indianapolis

Pregnant, waiting. . .

Gravid, and glowing,
pregnant, with child.
Drawn close to the father
pheremones run wild.
She feels she is his,
he protector, the source.
Nature encapsulates
as a matter of course.

The look in her eyes
love exchanged deeply.
Few words
where few words are needed.

Turns out it is twins.

1/27/05 4:21 pm
Albany International

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Lee Side

The wind howls from the East,
driving snow in horizontal streaks
that break & swirl and coalesce on the lee side of the cabin
So that the view out one window is raging storm
and another reveals falling flakes in constant dance of shifting direction.
I feel my life is like the storm,
streaking by in endless blur,
though my mind is like the snow on the lee side,
drifting up then down then swirling madly 'round before finally settling to the ground.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Rescue me

Rescue me, my destiny.
I am lost without someone to love.
I suffer in pain, alone in this world
and abandoned by powers above.

My talents unused, my sanity fused
a whirlwind of emotion chilled.
A train off its track, a turtle on its back,
my destiny, without you, unfulfilled.

black licorice, please

Please, now,
Appease me.
Black licorice now.
Do not tease me.

Monday, January 24, 2005

Reminiscence and You

Myra, desira,
flashback to 1985.
Alone, and
clueless as usual,
she drew me in to
her centered self.

Short and compact.
dense curves topped in wavy hair,
Self-assured jewess,
not quite sure why I was there.
Her Saab, homecooked meals,
An older woman loving a fit young man,
melting as my hands caress her spectacular sensitive nipples.

Long kiss goodnight at her door,
with fog rolling off the Merimack River and across Concord.
Hands cupping firm round breasts,
as knees grow weak & juices flow,
4 AM, you've really, really got to go.

Time, life, memories,
longing for new opportunities.
New love blooming beautifully
under the soft ministry of my hand.
I could be that for you, all that and more.
Tonight I send my soul across the miles to fill your dreams.
See if you don't wake up filled with thoughts and longing.
I will stir your nights haunt your days until you finally wake up and gather
me into your life.

Saturday, January 22, 2005

Jupiter Rising

Twelve AM & twenty below,
Eerie moon casts pale blue glow,
Frost-filled air o'er fields of snow,
And lo, Jupiter rising.

Low & bright off to the east,
Above a wood of shadow beast,
Nightmares settle down to feast,
And lo, Jupiter rising.

Whiteface stands, a silver peak,
Darkwood forest at its feet,
Tree snaps frozen, heart skips beat,
And lo, Jupiter rising.

Friday, January 21, 2005

mopey mopey poo poo

Nobody cares that my PDA pen is lost.
Nobody cares that I can't find hat & gloves when I need to go out in the cold.
Nobody cares that crap just lays wherever it's been dropped, for days & weeks.
Nobody cares if I can't breathe, if I have a migraine, or if I am just plain sad.
I suppose I should just decide that nothing matters & then everything is ok.
Seems like maybe I already have.

mopey mopey poo poo.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Couplet: science, genius, art & wit

One science only will one genius fit.
So vast is art, so narrow human wit.

- Voltaire -


Noir comme le diable,
Chaud comme l'enfair,
Pur comme un ange,
Doux comme l'amour.

Black as the devil!
Hot as hell,
Pure as an angel,
Sweet as love.

Monday, January 17, 2005

Saigon, WWII

Saigon, June 16, 1944
Marines & the Navaho
set foot on the shore.
A Pacific campaign
for a foot in the door
blood in the sand
in the second world war.

Windtalkers, code talkers,
Navaho all
rose up with Great Spirit
and answered the call -
leaving desert, and home,
and family clan -
of a nation that conquered
their ancestral land.

the curse of the gift

If I turned it all off,
where would I be ?
What would be created
deep within me?
What gift left behind
for others to see?

I've spent many years
pondering life's destiny.
But life won't resolve
into self harmony.
It's the curse of the gift
of creativity.

Sunday, January 02, 2005

Heart of the Creative Soul

At the heart of the creative soul
lies a dark & bottomless well.
Do not be frightened if you catch me staring over its edge
locked into its deepest, darkest spell.
I do not need your words, nor cheer, to break my pensive gloom.
But stay awhile, & hold my hand, my heart,
'til I turn from its edge & warmth refills this room.

Saturday, January 01, 2005

Without change,
life is nothing.