Sept. 29th 2020 (Quar)

 

Prologue:*

            This is my father’s birthday, now buried in the Mount Calvary Cemetery. Lost in prayer and thought having flash backs of a father never being there, mostly never here.

            Abandoned by his day-care giver (his wife), after abandoning him and the children, he was unable to deal with it alone. Sending the children to relatives.

1950’s Las Vegas Divorce **

“Life has to be given a meaning because of the obvious fact that it has no meaning.”
Henry Miller

Sitting on the fire escape

he was waiting for you to save him.

He wallowed in his inability to leave.

 

Cheap hotel: bed without bedposts, no complimentary soap.

Should he sit tight waiting for you?

To work out problems never explained

between love, residence, and a person that only pays rent?

 

All he was asking from her,

is to save the last dance for him. For love, affection,

and a future without dereliction.

“Gosh, that is a nice dress.

Bright red with sequins and plunging neckline.

You never have gone out with me, looking like that.

 

Yes, I know it’s new.

To wear when the night has no moon.

To walk the cross walks under streetlights

 

glittering with nightly specials on your low cut- menu.

Stopping anyone who has only one feeling—

to admire your attire and everything that is underneath;

 soft, round, moist, short skirt’s unrelenting heat.

 It was me.”

 

 

Wielding a face like an axe,

he silenced any objection to negative gestures of guilt,

into words, into conjecture, into blame.

The truth as he experienced it.

Another act to repeat itself in disaster—

having to search in the clutter of useless feelings.

Like her first set of headlights, windows rolled down;

to her last trick— running on empty, but, never gently.

 

Cheap hotel, bed without bedposts;

stench of stale cigarettes and after shave floating

through the next rooms’ half-opened windows.

 

He sits there without the utmost concern,

or yearning for his guardian  angel—

or for the disposition of his soul.

 

watching another night fade into morning;

waiting for Eve

to come back

and save him.

 

 

 

 

 

* “Notes Found On The Refrigerator”

** “The Night Before Breakfast”

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Notes found on the refrigerator: Sept. 1st. & 2nd. 2020: Quar

     A butterfly visited the sun flowers, kissing only a few, before she flew away. I guess the others are taking their turns.

first flower to pick

leaving the others to bloom

all to pick smiling

Sept. 2^nd.  2020: Quar

 

Oh, blissful ignorance:

     In Wilmington, Vt. watching the sun sinking behind the trees.

There is a soft breeze that exhales and inhales around me.

So, should I?

To settle this day down

And let the evenings starlight

with the moon peeking

through the clouds announce

its closure at Midnight?

grasshoppers still chirp

before the incoming frost

that moon sweeps away

 

An Elders Love

Aug. 28^th, 2020: Quar   

       I am not a keeper of records or memories. Nor, of cream and curds mixed with fantasy and the absurd. As if… it is like yesterday or yester-year! I never know today or the future clear.

       There is a presence in the keeper’s mind of your absence; in the “tock” of time or the “tick” of our heartbeat that brings us closer, in each disappearing day.

 the rose is a scent

that wants to be remembered

knowledge understood

 

Aug. 29th, 2020: Quar

 

  There are storms and floods

covering the shallows

disparaging the un-holy;

 while the righteous soil

absorbs the water.  

And emerges as just another flower,

in the garden.

During these times:

       We are looking for monks, brothers, and sisters who live, eat, and teach in our neighborhoods.

       Instead we find a High Order of Holy Administrations that accepts, for the propagation of our core beliefs in each other, Alms… that prop up ancient Architectural structures to modern day Mansions; that feast in its symbolic understanding. Accepting tidings and spending them as a profit from a ticket purchased to Paradise, Angels, and reconciliation and if you double your offer, they’ll include free shipping.. Some admit it’s a raffle; 1^st. place, Heaven. 2^nd. place, Purgatory, 3^rd. place Hell. 4^th. Place, stay alive and pay twice.

       We are looking for the monks, brothers, and sisters who live, eat, and teach in our neighborhoods. That understands the Holy spiritual path to community without compensation or lack of dogmatic male compliance.

it’s a cloudy day

winds are changing tomorrow

sun not far behind

 

Notes found on the refrigerator Aug. 23rd. 2020 Quar

I understand why some shutter their windows

in disagreement.

But, they eventually need

to let the sun in, to shine through

open windows.

       Looking at the stones I placed around my small flower garden, I noticed this particular one, quite larger than the other ones, was placed in the middle and on top of the small stone wall. It caught my attention as it transformed into a focus that became clearer as I paid attention.

       I saw my history from childhood to my children appear and diminish as another transition appeared.

       I couldn’t take my eyes from the story-teller stone. Until it all passed, and I could focus, again on my garden.

appearance in Spring

gaiety and rebellion

settles in the fall

 

Aug. 24th  2020: Quar   

       Illness and death in a pandemic can become common place, as “Barkers” praise the immune; at the grave site of the families and friends in grief.

flowers fall to ground

as insects chew thru the stem

sowing another

Pray.

 

an editorial: To exhausted to open the refrigerator door this morning,

To exhausted to open

 the refrigerator

 door this morning,

I found this note

 getting swept up

 from the kitchen floor:

Aug. 10th 2020: Quar

       Politics has grounded up the idea that the ignorant  can become morons without learning un-biased information, even when their lives are in chaos, it comes to them through  a Piper’s flute, jumping off the cliff of the true principles they all  believe in… whether PhD., GED, home school, or on the job, life and work experience. They have nested termites under the floor of our Great Experiment. Good grief!

       Then, there are the American Patriots, rarely ever accepting a label other than they are Americans and believe in the same things all Americans agree on, and pledge Allegiance to our Constitution; without embellishment. They believe in the equality of our neighbor that makes a hood a home-town community; that excels in growth, in principle, that becomes a State with a balanced opinion by democracy and Justice. It has prospered, as a United States, the successful American Experiment that other’s said would fail. (They ask to silence the anger, demeaning slurs to our neighbor and live the American Dream, with logical dialogue. “…to the Republic for which it stands: one Nation indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all…”

       Only an enemy of these principles, of this Awesome Country, can divide us into strife; systematically, until it implodes. Leaving the spoils for them and to enslave the people, for basic necessities. There will be no time to mourn luxury.

        The time needs to be reminded that “the times (as usual) are a changin’ …”; to correct our mis-steps going forward into the American Dream.

fog lifting the field

revealing dandelion

in execution

 

Notes found on the refrigerator Aug. 18th 2020 (QUAR)

I opened the door at dusk and caught a good size flash

of white fly in ahead of me.

 I close the door and I’m still not sure

 if it was a big moth or Tinkerbelle…

                                                           

     The plants wave and sway when I sit down among them, often, even without a breeze. At dusk, at that time, they do get a little bold, as their suitors are asleep counting their blessings..

     From dandelions, petunias, coleus, other’s that I threw the tag away at planting, and of course, the neighboring  wild daisies; we all seem to have a mutual understanding for each other.

     As sunset glows, stopping to affirm our relationship, a humming bird stops by and takes a sip of summer’s last flowers. And as a card in the spokes of a bicycle, flies away as loud as a snore.

crickets rejoice night

settling the day gracefully

awakening dew

 

notes-found-on-the-refrigerator-Aug.5th 2020 (Quar)

     Love is an illusion (friendship is instinctive), be just like me or perish (enjoy diversity), only self-serving interests (sharing and participating in another’s), laughing at calamity (understand and re-structure) …

     …Love, the unimaginable truth, and its Divinity to commune with understanding family and neighbor, that creates quilted communities, is real. No material of its fibers and colors are independent of itself; unless it stands alone void of inclusion.

     Less we push It into something abstract that dis-avows it. Love is not a contract, it’s an allegiance; morally and with mutual integrity that displays Itself, as an outward sign of friendship. Set to become the binding mystery of Love.   

August is lazy

stillness does not seek a fight

an agreement made

 

Notes found on the refrigerator…June 18th. 2020 QUAR

QUAR Notes: [Haibun Journal]

R.K Garon

June 18th 2020 QUAR

 

Ode to my Coleus and her best friends:

 

      Oh! Coleus of majestic colors of red, yellow, and green, standing tall among the pansies and petunias.

            The pine New Hampshire mountains, as a back drop, gives the admirer a reflection in the mind. Colorful fantasies even to the blind.

black and white is stark

rainbows from dark clouds bend light

shadows disappear

******

     This time, just before dusk, I’ve noticed, on several occasions, a black butterfly. The only reason I notice it, she flutters around the sunflowers, never touching them, and just as quickly, I notice her whizzing by my ear as she flies away. “Sleep tight” I’ve heard. 

      Now, what the hell is that all about? As I said my prayers.

Chair in the garden

Flowers or vegetables

Space is required

 

Notes found on the refrigerator…June 8th. & 9th. 2020

June 8^th. 2020

     Skirmishes about; passed the villages below. A light mist of rain may calm the senses down. Releasing all opinions and doubt.

     We are all part of Nature. Plants on window sills, rooftops, or in the garden, seek no help; except for the generosity of their loved ones.

There are skirmishes about

the villages below;

they are casting idols of gold.

June 9^th. 2020

oh my!

     i stopped at the village store and figured i would buy some scratch tickets. my luck lately has had its ups and downs.

     i bought three, three- dollar tickets, asking the clerk to pick only winners. please. She said “they are all winners until you scratch them”.

     i couldn’t smile at her, behind my cloth mask, so I winked. 😊

love is nature deep

sand dollar hidden on beach

an itch is scratched

 

Notes found on the refrigerator…June 6th. & 7th. 2020

June 6^th. 2020

I was kissed by a moth in the headlights

of an oncoming car;

we both flew… out of the way.

ZQ

           

June 7^th. 2020 (Sunday)

     The butterflies were flying around the flowers and blooming blackberry bushes. Fluttering about in scenes of frenzy before they landed on one of them; wings upright and still.

     With their bright colors in the noon day sun, they enjoy their nectar for lunch. Then, they flutter away; wings never stopping, across the grass and flirting with the branches of the trees. But, they never go to the top of them, with no such dreams.

nature is alive

productive and on purpose

enjoy who you are

 

 

Scribbled note:

regardless of all my perfections and ignorance, I still seek redemption, in my Sacred nature.