Thursday, May 19, 2005

Laying in bed, thinking

Damn it all. I just want to be loved by the woman I want to love, like it used to be. No complications, no worries: I love you, you love me, piece of cake. Without that, my life has a big hole that can not be filled, that drains the brightness from my life.
So much was going well for me when you & I were us. Now everything is a steep climb with no view at the top, every bounce a bad hop.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Adirondack Sunrise May 10

Sky of steel grey aluminum overcast.
A lone phoebe calls its name,
calmly, but repeatedly:
"Phoebe. . . Phoebe. . . Phoebe. . . "
"Phoebe. . . Phoebe. . . Phoebe. . . "
A wren twitters in a moment's silent pause.
A distant crow calls once, a mourning dove hoots halfheartedly.
Neighbor's rooster crows muffledly,
shut inside its little barn.
At last the sun illuminates the horizon,
turning the slate-like sky into opalescent backlit tiffany
in illustrious myriad hues of
orange, yellow, pink & blue.

Friday, May 06, 2005


The lawn is green
on shades of brown
Starlings, like rats,
swarm all around.
They fight for bits
of straw & hay
Then, frantically,
they fly away
to build their nests
where'er they please --
in eaves and soffits,
holes in trees.

If only they had
songs to sing.
I do not care
for rats with wings.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Aborigines & the Early Explorers in Australia

"The incompetence of the early explorers was a matter of abiding fascination for the Aborigines, who often came to watch. "Our perplexities afforded them an inexhaustible fund of merriment and derision," wrote one chronicler glumly."

In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson

Monday, May 02, 2005

737-800 Eastbound

737-800, eastbound for Logan
long week, colleagues & friends in Chicago.
Mystery & intrigue waiting at the gate.
A world of pretty women,
a myriad of different looks,
pretty inside or pretty out.

Meanwhile, it's two free drinks here in comfy business class
on this brand new ATA 737 --
Large leather reclining seats with footrests, free headsets.
No DirecTV like JetBlue but I could go for this route again, just +$30.

39,000 feet, over Albany & into Boston.
Smooth sailing.
We'll land @ six, two hour layover.

Reviewing some of the candids I took @ the gate
I realize that I do not view "live" faces & people as they appear on film.
My judgement is clouded by an ability to see a beauty within,
& I suppose an inability to see what is in front of me.
How will I ever find that
one true, everlasting love ?
That one who is all things to me & to whom I am all things?
Ah, demon, thy name is rum!

How does one say "I am sorry"
for the wreckage left behind?
How does one move ahead
when you can't make up your mind?

Initial descent, on the ground about 5:30,
likely to the gate early.
Just means more time to kill before I catch my little commuter to SLK.

Ah, Boston
feels like home.
No need to parade out the "ahs"(r's)
no need to ask for whole bellies
when you ordah fried clams.
Sounds like home around heya.

Cleared security, no issues.
Hanging out at a little side alley bar.
Rum & coke,
and why is everybody staring at me?
Ain't no pretty ladies,
that's for sure!

Last leg. Finally!
Continental Beechcraft 1900D.
Five passengers, two crew.
Woman pilot.
If I were a pilot, I'd rather fly commuters,
at least in good weather.

Tell me why . . .

  • television stations all run commercials at the same times?
  • it matters more who you remind someone of then who you are?
  • reputations are worthless - some peon is always there to challenge it.