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Today was my day off, inasmuch as I didn't have to go in to work. So we spent the day with a real estate agent, checking out houses. We're all set to move out of the flat and into a house, and just put in an offer on a cape house in Enfield. It looks like we can swing the mortgage, (will wonders never cease) and hopefully will be settled in by the summer. Even my two-year old is excited, although I don't think he quite grasps that we'll be living somewhere else. This is the only place he's ever lived, being only two, but is pretty excited nonetheless. There's a good deal of space for a garden, too, which is something I've always wanted to do. Not that I know the first thing about plants, but one is never too old to learn. So now we haggle away until we come up with an offer we can afford and that everyone is satisfied with. At the risk of sounding overly optimistic, I've got a pretty good feeling about this place. Wish me luck!

Fuseli's Nightmare

Flight of the Nightmare,

pale as moonlight

Blind eyes rolling, muscles flex

charges silently

through the night's wind

Bearing her charge of

Mortal suffering,

light as smoke, fading as quickly

Unwanted, yet

Locked away forever behind

Human eyes, human mind

Her horror dims, but lingers on

Until again the hoofbeats

approach the sleeping form

(This was inspired by a painting by Fuseli called The Nightmare- I saw it many years ago, and it still gives me the creeps to this day. I guess that makes it good art, if it can create that kind of a reaction).

Reductio Ad Absurdum

I've been feeling really in a rut lately- seems like every day the same thing. But then, on the other hand, what do I really want from life? Adventure, excitement, all that really good stuff? Life is not a movie, and there are a lot more complex problems to solve than the average hero/ine encounters. I'm not planning on being a mid-level white collar worker forever; where I go from here remains to be seen. I've actually been giving some thought to it, and think I'd like to open a bookstore when I retire. Not to make a lot of money, but because I know there are a lot of people out there who like old bookstores. I'd see them in the bookstore that I also used to frequent. Ironically, the store closed when the proprietor retired. But it was in a decrepit old warehouse building, complete with rattling old industrial blowers to keep the place more or less temperature controlled. The shelves were a mishmash of plywood shelves, metal shelves, cardboard boxes and books stacked everywhere. If there was any order to it, it eluded me. Yet the proprietor would, on request, be able to track down any book in the place, navigating between the shelves, knowing exactly where he was going. The building was ancient, the furniture not a lot newer, and the floors creaked alarmingly underfoot. It was great. If you knew exactly what you were looking for, that was good. If you had no idea, good too. A great deal of my own library came from this same store. I can recall finding a prayer book written in German, (I recognized the language from the two or three words I could decipher) and from the date, over 100 years old. I remember a sense of awe at that- this book was created all that time ago, and after what would no doubt be a long and fascinating story, came to the back room of a bookstore in New England. And to be able to appreciate things like this, even something so simple, is really a gift.

Luna Fortunata

I am Fortune's fool,
on the quick and easy
Road to Hell, or somewhere close enough
I make Time wait for me- bringing you
Tomorrow today, and yesterday
pretty soon
And the road knows my steps
the only guide
the voice in my ear,
the hand on my shoulder
The journey is
more important than the destination
She knows me, the
weary faces at the train station, my
own haggard gray face reflected
from harsh lights in a truck stop bathroom
When I was younger and older
When I was without a home, the sun
Dimly remembered in a moonless sky, to
Await the dawn-
This is my own, this life of my own making
The marks on my arms tell a story
I remember here, among the shores of
Light and peace

Back again

It's been a while since I last posted, mainly due to technical difficulties. The computer was not able to locate its own hard drive, and with it the operating system, so it got a little confused. Luckily, we got it back up and running. Which is good, because it had a ton of writing on it that it never occurred to me to back up on disk. (This is a good reason why I should back stuff up). So the first thing I did was create a backup of everything worth saving. Having a working PC is especially useful now that the lease on our apartment is coming up soon. We decided not to renew, as the rent keeps increasing. So next week we jump in with both feet and give notice that we're not renewing. Which leaves us without a place to live unless we find a house or another apartment to rent or buy. Prospects on renting are pretty grim, at least around here, so it looks like we're going to try for a house. This is actually going a great deal easier, and it looks like getting a mortgage should not be a problem. Finding a house is a little tougher, but that's what I do, at least try to do- take care of the family. So we're all under a little stress lately, (okay, I lied-more than a little) and the whole work situation is not helping. But the thing to remember is, in the long run, what really matters.

Unsigned Letters

May I too find the

letters dropped in the street, signed

with your name and

written by your hand-

I will keep them with me,

read them to all I meet

Fearing only that I may not

capture the true

words of the writer

that the song may not

be the same as my own, but

lesser

Too short a time

master this before

my spring unwinds, my

mechansim runs down

No shock here, having

died myself a

thousand times over-

Do I, for this

Contain multitudes?

(This was kind of a tribute to Walt Whitman, one of my favorite poets and dirty old men. Hope you liked it!)

Is it Spring yet?

While out on a run, I saw a robin, so spring can't be too far away. It's been warming up quite a bit lately. I've been meaning to get out and play some golf, but haven't had the time as of yet. No I'm not a rich old guy, but occasionally get out and knock a ball around. I'm not really that good, but as long as I can get within 50 or 60 yards of the pin, I'm all set. The problem is getting there without having to bring food and water for three days while I go find where the ball landed. But at least you get out in the sun. I'm still trying to top a couple years ago, when I managed to play off of a duck. Hit the green, too. The tee kind of looked down on a lake with a green in the middle, and a bridge leading out to it. So of course, I knocked my first shot into the water. Along the edge of the island green were a number of ducks, seemingly not the least bit concerned about the fact that we were (trying) to hit golf balls at them. This should provide some clue as to what a great shot I am... So setting up a second shot, I hit a great pitch downwards towards the green, but a little bit short. It looked like it was going to catch the edge of the green and also go into the water. The ducks, of course, couldn't have been less concerned. So of course, the ball came down squarely on the back of one of the poor ducks. I heard the thunk from the tee. The ball then bounced back up and landed on the green. The duck did not bounce back up- he kind of flopped into the water, shook his wings and swam off. Fortunately, he was fine, at least physically. Oddly enough, had I missed the duck that shot too probably would have gone into the water too. Kind of brings a new meaning to the term water hazard. Playing off of ducks is really not recommended though.
Salt Shore

Coming to this
new shore, salt air
in my lungs
No longer seeking self
Chill wind blows across the waves, we
have traveled here to
see only the night air over the now-silent
beach sands
Waves churned by the relentless air
What does this wave know
of deeper silent depths
specimens swim and crawl,
Uncaring of changes above
***
Who are you beings, surely
not of my household?
Yet to this I will not
idly lay claim, no
birthright, no noble lineage
Shall make your
labor mine

Perfect Blue

I've really not been "with it" for the past week or so. I can't really put my finger on it- I haven't been sick or awake all night or not eating right. I skip the occasional meal, but that's nothing out of the ordinary, at least for me. It's more like a persistent feeling of unreality- like things aren't quite real. Everything seems kind of Technicolor, a little too bright and not quite real. I think I'm just stressed out from work. Going to the gym has become more about kicking the crap out of myself than actually concentrating on a workout. (Didn't know I could bench press that much, though...) It' s probably time to get out of my rut and go take a hike or something. Especially today, when it's about 60 degreees and sunny. March in Connecticut is always kind of a crapshoot weather-wise. Take advantage of the good weather when you get it, as tomorrow it might snow. My sister has the right idea- she's heading south for spring break. I'm going down to drop her off at the airport Sunday. Luckily, she knows where to go. The first time I had to go to an airport I was completely lost. But then, on the other hand, it doesn't take much to get me lost. Pretty much getting behind the wheel will do the trick. Yet I can find my way out of the woods no matter how far off the trail I've wandered. Go figure.
Today's little literary masterpiece was one I wrote for my son. Best interpreted while banging on steam pipes or something- think big mechanical noises. Here goes...

Diggers

There's a lot going down

In the walls of our town

As the wind rushes down

From above

***

There's a low grinding moan

From the Tower's steel bones

And the gears mesh and grind

In the cold deep mine

As the wind rushes down

From above

***

When the sun sinks low

Still the thunder rolls

From the lightless pit

Now the flames are lit

As the wind rushes down

From above

***

Now from underground

The old man calls out

"There's a place I've found

About six miles down,"

While the wind rushes down

From above

***

"It's a danger zone

As I'm sure you'll know-

Keep your feet, keep your wits

Down below!"

And so in we go

Past the big black stones

And the wind rushes down

From above

***

Still we dig from the earth

All the rocks and dirt

Still the trucks unload

Past that deep dark hole

And the wind rushes down

From above.

Your daily dose of weird

I came across this little oddity, and thought it was good for a chuckle. How it would be to drink remains a subject of speculation. Green tea liquor? Not two things I would think to put together. Of course, the Fifth Precept of Buddhism is to refrain from consuming intoxicants. There's some debate as to whether this means no alcohol, etc at all or if it means no getting plastered. A lot of vows involve refraining entirely from alcohol, though. There's also a Zen Bar in Farmington, CT. Again, kind of a mixed metaphor there, and probably a few mixed drinks. Should I as a Buddhist be offended? I find it hard to get too upset about this- actually I think it's kind of funny. Neither of these examples seem to be malicious or intended to be offensive, and come across to me as just downright silly. I'm a Kadampa Buddhist currently, but originally studied under a Zen master. Other comments I've found on this expressed concern that this would give people wrong ideas about Zen and Buddhism. That's a legitimate concern, but on the other hand, the best way to find out is to ask. But weird liquor and bars have very little to do with actual practice. Come to think of it, pretty much nothing at all to do with actual practice. So don't drink and drive, and if anyone out there has tried green tea liquor, let me know how it is.

You'd Never Know it was Haunted

Here no

blare of televisions, no

Noise from downstairs, a

peaceful evening-

Below me countless

stairs, the

dream of huge vaulting

ceilings, walls

of dim-remembered

boards, wallpaper faded

in memory;

You'd never know it's haunted

How long since I

walked those

stairs, those halls, echoing

like a house doesn't

But I am

here alone, a breath of

Mint steams from the teapot

close at hand

The chill air an old friend-

My hand against the window-glass

If Nothing Can Stop Them...

We'll just have to get a whole truckload of nothing together. A Saturday, good day to go work out. So I did. The snow has pretty much come and gone, but the cold stays on. Last Thursday I watched my niece and nephew, which is always an adventure. I'm always amazed how smart the two of them are. My niece is 1 1/2, and my nephew 3. Evidently smart kids run in the family- my own little boy is no slouch himself. And, in the spirit of advancing science, my niece decided to examine the pressing question of whether or not a beard is a permanent attachment, or if it can be removed by application of force. Initial experimentation seemed to refute this hypothesis, but like any good scientist, she went on to several beta-tests. Consultations with her fellow scientist and brother seemed also to reinforce the initial findings; he noted that "your beard grows quick!" I always figured it was the Scottish ancestry. But at any rate, I can very much understand the pride their parents have in them. I'm proud of my family, too.

Bricks and Mortar

Rains washed over

ancient bricks, now

long forgotten-

A new day, a new time

****

It all comes together-

Solace in the fact

that this iron spike

will be in the bricks

after I have gone, as

it was here before I was

And these walls

will remember me

Mark the brief

touch of my hand

And many others-

The game ends, but

to begin again

Let's live a

lifetime here-

Others have

In the Cube

I learned something new today, though not really that useful. Dai Kaiju Eiga means "Giant monster film" in Japanese. It came to refer to the style of filmmaking that the Toho company used in the Godzilla films. The last one I saw, Godzilla 2000, was really well-done. Must be tough coming up with new monsters for Godzilla to fight all the time, but the films manage not to disappoint. In other random news today, I came across a website devoted to Phi. It's an irrational number, like pi (a decimal that does not end and does not repeat itself) and, strangely enough, pops up in all kinds of places, like geometry and the human body. It's considered by some to be proof of the existence of God. But I suppose that depends on how you look at it- one way to see it is that it was something imposed on an otherwise chaotic state. Another is to see it as evidence that the world posesses an underlying and fundamental order. I think that if there is a pattern, however, either way it's proof of some order in the world. The website is http://goldennumber.net . And be sure to check out phi calculated to 20,000 places.

The Road to Nowhere

Somewhere outside of Pittsburgh

Steel mills rising skeletal against

evening's red sky

The two of us

Found ourselves in

the middle of nowhere,

Four lanes wide and

Luminous

We had set out in

search of our American Dream-

A total waste of time

As streetlights begin to

wink on, banishing the dark, I

look over-you're asleep

Empty coffee cups on the

dash mark our progress,

Together we

push on,

Feels like I'm

knocking on the Devil's door

Tomorrow is a new

day; just a memory

Night finds us

still in limbo, gas gauge

exit ramps

tell us we're not there yet

But where else

would we be?