19.9.10

On A Walk

On A Walk
On a walk today I came upon a fallen tree
Stretched over an empty brook;
Emily darted and bound, easily making the leap
Struggling to find footing I grasped my thoughts
And found myself back in time, a place with a similar look.

Though I cannot remember or pen the place, or time
It was when a younger man, strode a morning like this;
Panting for air in a swelter of heat, breathing, but youthful
Playing with my friend long since passed, in that land far away
And Sasha, as she was known, is still sorely missed.

Isn’t that odd, remembrance allows us to travel
Both in time and place, through scent, sight and touch;
This traveling gives us rebirth of who we are and how we come
This exercise is not just of body but of mind now, and I struggle to keep it on
For that moment cared deep, and the thought as grand, as the time of such.

The where and when matter not, it’s that feeling of past, of youth and joy
This time is sweeter still, than the youth of ago, and how will I remember this matter;
Savory and youthful? When only the bustle of trees above and birds abound in sound
The tamping of my feet and sweet Emily joyfully looking
my memory-imagined fades but this moment, is filled and sated.

17.9.10

Wanting, a poem

Wanting
Set out, or came by way of desire
Set aside meaningful love
For a place nearer the fire
You have been found wanting.

Longing or wanting what is greener
Pursuing that, not in hand
And thus, left, unwholesome, faded as jean
Bound to that want, rather the life of mean.

Looking around, only to find
Always missing from life
Found by all, wanting in soul and mind
This wanting has a cost and it will cause lost.

Terrible to be, worse to know
A place or person of wanting
Troubled, guided only by show
A want is no color, casts no glow.

While making life, and being whole
Are, not made by things
But how we help them grow
And still, you have been found wanting.

Now, left alone, late in light
Still, evermore wanting
That life, that thing, that awful plight
Shall you want no more!

16.9.10

A Poem for Vegetable & Greens

A Poem for Vegetable & Greens

Bright when ripe, framed by the earth
Grown only by a caring hand,
I am a handful when picked, more real than before
And nothing is more promising than that from our land

If you choose to grow me
I will love you back,
Giving you life in surplus
But through harvest break your heart and back

Not easy like a list and cart
You must endure trials of the mother full of wind and rain,
Before you gain my love, before you can love back
Before you understand from which we all came

I am a potato, a beet
A salad green in rows at your feet
I cannot speak or give advice
Although I can cost little, I am always worth twice!

Thoughts, Observations, and Thoeries: Traffic Lights and Life, a poem

Thoughts, Observations, and Thoeries: Traffic Lights and Life, a poem: "Traffic Lights and Life Waiting, patiently with movement across the path, to passlonging for the wait to be over and life to move on;this ti..."

Blue and Green, Green and Blue, a poem

Blue and Green, Green and Blue

I see the colors I like … blue and green
In all the things I love both strong and lean
In the absence of them; I project my desire
And sell out, to the reality that is my fire.

If blue is sad and green is happy
Then let me pick and choose
Those which I like best, and when
My greens and blues

I do not care if it is real or true
So, I see what I wish and make the rest green and blue
Do you know what I mean?
Do you change things to suit you, make them blue and green?

My grandmother told me not to do this
Not to project wishes when the reality is best
Not to see what isn’t there and truly true
But I cannot help myself, I like green and blue.

And perhaps it does not matter what we fake
Or the changes we try to make
What matters is how we treat others and ourselves
Both in or lives and in our cells

And let there be greens and blues
For all the days, within the cues
Which allow us to see and be
As we are, alive and free.

“Dreams are not just for those who sleep”, a thought & theory

“Dreams are not just for those who sleep”
I fell, I think, or tripped over myself today or something someone left on the floor, noticeable and yet out of sight … but now, completely in mind.  I mean, sometimes I go so hard at something that I lose focus on what’s more important. Every do that?  The above reference is about ambitions, desires and dreams … my dreams.   I could say I awoke rather than tripped but it wouldn’t be accurate!   Was I really asleep and dreaming that I was progressing my life, advancing my future, progressing my dreams into realities?  Or was I awake all the while and just not in tune with what is actually more real, more important … more dreamy?
Here is another side.  Try thinking of that which gives you the most pleasure, that which drives you; that which you desire and what you think will make you happy.  Got it in mind?  Okay, now are these things actually apart of your life now?  No?  Are you sure?  Are they small, hidden in your life, somewhere between the rush of that first sip of joe in the morning and the routine that you drudge through each day?  Could it be laundry, the smell of clean sheets, freshly cut grass or the co-worker who never seems to get it?  Yeah, I mean the things that you think are cumbersome, intrusive, lack the luster of a dreamier life could be the dream itself.  A touch, a gentle touch from a good friend when you are down and have not told anyone why. That touch could mean more later on that day or the next than it does at that very moment.  The moment we live can easily escape us, the small parts of our days often are measured by what we achieve and how much we can accomplish.  Not by the very things that could be more important.  I love to question many things and find the answers are usually where I expect them to be … right in my face.  The dream life, whatever it is and wherever you hide it, is usually the life you are awake in, the life you lead each day.  But this is a choice.  You don’t have to go to sleep to dream of something better, something that will make you happier, just look around; these things you desire are there more than likely in another form or presence that you cannot see.
I submit that if someone died or something was lost, it would not be the “thing” itself but what it meant, how it felt, it would be the quirks, the little things that perhaps upset you before that you will miss and remember most … they are the real things, the real us that when we trust someone enough we let show, we let go and we enjoy!  The old expression, cliché, “you never miss something until it is gone” is true.  Our appreciation, taught by the marketing genius’ is NOW, NOW, NOW and I need that car, that house, that job … is this a dream?
Our dreams are our own realities.  Yup, I am saying it, if you want to be happy then be happy!  I have lost a brother and a sister, watched my mother seek comfort in a bottle of pills and completely give up on life, seen friends far too young pass away, lost a fortune and had so many, many bad things happen or witnessed that I cannot recount but I find myself happy and grateful.  When I get out of my own way long enough to realize this I find the tree’s greener, the aromas sweeter and the things I don’t have less important vs. those that I do.  If you are a friend of mine I am grateful for you, if you are not … do you want to be … so you want to live a real dream, share your life with conviction, share your thoughts, hopes and desires, then do and you will find yourself awake in this life!

A New Kinda Muse, a poem

A New Kinda Muse

There is a new kinda muse
Brewing passion and stepped with
The flavor of what can be,
A new kinda ruse
Boiling over and ready for us to see

Is it the bowl we eat from
The glass that provides us drink
No not really …
Did it make you think …?

Maybe it is the person
Who makes these things we need
Or maybe it’s the passion brewed
Boiling over for what is greed

Or perhaps it is none of the above
Wait, this new muse is not
A multiple choice question answered one, two three
It is what’s in the heart, the place we no longer see

I tell you my friends
It is not in the I’s
But simply in the we
The relationship with others
The promise to our brothers
The lavish fever of union
And the sound, fury and passion
Of the New Kinda Muse, within thee

If we listen more, talk less
Be less self imposing
Prideful and all knowing
We just might hear her and him
That new kinda muse … deep within.

Knowing Is Not Everything, a poem



It is not the knowing, it is the doing
Although, knowing grants us responsibly
Is will never give us anything more, nor can it
Give to you an ability to overcome fear and futility

But it is beautiful, the knowing, or is it?
Are we happier, are we more insightful
Or are those with more knowledge consumed
Made to think like “the man”, sold or dull

Can we acquire the knowledge and do nothing?
Many do, don’t they?  Listen to what they say;
Look at what they do, see between, through the propaganda
of things sold to us, bought by us because perhaps … we don’t know.

What about the doers, those who overcome the not knowing enough
Press themselves against the odds with forward thought
Do they know enough to do nothing, are they growing?
Watch out, you may just miss the point; and thus, all is for not.

15.9.10

The Tree and its leaves, a poem

The Tree and its leaves

Young and bold, growing up to meet the light
Bright is our future, bright is the site
And while we grow, our leaves follow suit
Changing with the seasons, as growth we bear fruit
Years pass as those who love our shade
And loves carved in us, with the promises we’ve made
What will be our fate, how long can we rise
Will we have another year of shelter and wise?
Sages are born in us, our leaves are the knowing
And the telling of time that passes, all while we are growing
Come to me, gander beneath my limbs
Let a dream arise, brush aside your care and whims
I am the life, strong and true
And I am the friend who grows with you.

What is a recipe ... a mataphor or an analogy!

Anecdotes from a cookbook in progress ....
“Will you share that recipe?
      Response.
      No, make your own recipe!  Or, okay, sure, I will email it to you.  But when I give in almost always I get a return email or conversations that goes something like this; “I made that recipe but it didn’t turn out right. Did you leave something out?”  Yeah, I gave you a recipe that did not have all the ingredients in it, or better, I changed the quantities of the ingredients so yours would turn out bad! 
      If you’re not insane or confused by the craziness of what’s being sold to you day in and day out by the self proclaimed marketing geniuses then you might, I say, might be able to get this!  And actually I know some very insane people who live by another set of rules and senses but they still get it.  Even the DIY channel can attest.  It isn’t about the recipe!  What’s a recipe anyway?  Isn’t it just a template, a beginning, the origin from which things are created?  A recipe is a place, a starting point for idea forming or a spot that allows an idea to develop in a form to create a certain flavor … or characteristic.  I have been cooking forever, it seems all my life.  Cooking food, cooking up love, cooking something!  Why’s this important?  Because it is!  And the quicker you get it the easier your life cooking will be, and perhaps your life in general.  This isn’t a self help book, okay well maybe it is, but really … I mean really, it is about you and what you want things to be, to taste like, to develop into.  We are all so afraid, it’s breed into us that failing is bad.  Failing is not bad ... if you get over that then you will progress happily in cooking and I bet life!

Thoughts from a working cook about ... Moderation apllying that to parties and everyday life!

Moderation and balance is the key to happiness.

 Too much of anything is usually bad and causes unbalance … well all know this.  More to the point with regard to food and cooking … sometime the simplest things are in fact the best.  If you are able to get Wild line caught King Salmon don’t mess with it.  Just cook it.  Moreover, don’t buy 10 lbs. because you will not think it is that awesome the fifth time you prepare it.

There is a story there, about over indulging in Salmon.  Many years ago at the Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach I had an opportunity to eat fresh, line caught, King Salmon everyday for pennies … and guess what I did?  That’s right!  I ate it nearly every meal for a month.  The specialty and beauty of it soon wore off and to this day, I hardly ever get a desire for wild Salmon.  This isn’t entirely what we mean about moderation with cooking, although it is a good point.  Specifically what we mean is that cooking takes patients and moderation is the best beginning for that learned journey.  Moderation in cooking is like moderation in life.  While we don’t want to get existential or ‘fussy”, we do want to impart to you that moderation is a key ingredient in cooking.  We think, when you are deciding on what to prepare, you need to consider all the variables.  What type of event, dinner party, who the guests are, what they mean to you, what their experiences are, what their expectations are … and also your ability to create and pull off the feat.  Have you ever been to a party, or hosted one, where the host is stuck in kitchen for most of the evening?  Sure you have, we all have.  Now, if you have guests who like to cook then invite them in and cook for them, or even with them.  If you have “non-foodies” then just make really good simple dishes that can be prepared ahead of time.  What we mean is Moderation can also mean making good decisions prior to the party but always through the cooking process.  An example of this is; if you are working all day and do not have much time to prepare a meal for family or friends think about your menu in more simple terms … in moderation of your time.  Another example is; you have planned a dinner party for several friends who can cook, then get them involved in the the experience of cooking together, which is  wonderful because usually everyone ends up in the kitchen anyway.  This example is even more stated with the regular family meal for ... Tuesday. 

There is Wall, what do you see?

There is Wall, what do you see?

Blank and white, like a canvas without paint
Before us and yet in us, unmeasured and without taint

The wall is both an illusion and vision of what is held back and what can be
Both a muse and a shelter for those who cannot see

It has a strength and weakness that all alike hold dear
What could be, what should be and all that we fear

You can paint it bold, and stroke it with passion
You can hang upon it life in an artist’s fashion

It can be blank or filled with color and strife
It is a metaphor for all that is, was, and can be in life

So what do you see, what shall it be
Today, tomorrow and all that will follow
The wall is new and old, small, big and bold
Fresh and clean, and each day you can have a new dream . . .

Or will it be the same as the last you gazed your eyes upon
A place of nothing, filled with little like an empty yawn.

Traffic Lights and Life, a poem

Traffic Lights and Life

Waiting, patiently with movement across the path, to pass
longing for the wait to be over and life to move on;
this time is measured, and measure it is, by the lights time
Red light, green light … go, but aware of the yellow we start and slow

Measured are our lives, by what we do and the time it takes
Our lives are green with envy, red with desire and yellow with fear
Not whole, but unfinished are those left standing, waiting
Overly patient and or not having the courage or the gear

That is, not for the creative lot, they will press ever on
And by pressing do more, achieve more and worry less about the light
 Loving to live, building dreams, daring themselves and friends to move
They are in between the time measured signals, shinning, blinking in flight

The Call, a poem

The Call

She awoke to find a wanting, deep within her soul
A lingering feeling from within, that is consuming and outta control
she brushes aside the thought, makes a cup of joe
Pushes forward through the thought, a life left in toe

Yeah, there’s a call today from your soul,
And the signal true, but she couldn’t hear
Figured she knew the fear
Let go -give in, said the voice sublime
Let go-give out, you know it is time

It’s Tuesday now, and she’s awake early
It’s morning again, and the burn is alive
Driving her to you, her life unlearned
Back to the place where she took the turn

Another call today from her soul,
And the signal’s still true, but she wouldn’t listen
figured she already knew …
Give in-give out, maybe it’s not a crime
Let go-find life, in tempo and in time

She sold out, maybe to the crush of grass that seems green
She held back her heart and desire
For this, could never have a mean
And left a whole which now is afire
shoulda known better, it would always be seen … and

Answering that call, she talked with her soul
Found herself happy again, not having any control
And begged to remember and not forget
All these things she longed with shallow regret
Left the unreal life alone … and gave in
Regret set aside, she’s now woman again

She’ll try now to undue this wreck
Linger long in the thoughts whole
Follow the path and take the trek
Beseech herself in the glow of the soul … yeah the glow of the soul!


This is a peom written a long time ago for someone who was hurting and lost beaucse of recent death.  the idea of the call is more than just that, as you can imagine .... it is what we mean to ourselves and what we do to avoid the things that hurt and how that hurt layers itself over our souls, the very thing we need to understand who we are ....
anyway, just thoughts :)