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Category Archives: Love

Sept. 29th 2020 (Quar)

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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Posted by on October 4, 2020 in Divorced, Existential, Father, Life, Love, prayer, Prose Poetry, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator: Aug. 30th 2020: Quar

 

Green leaves shush each other,

in the gossip and the celebration

that will take place;

sometimes in loud applause

with the forceful incoming

September breeze.

 

The sun and the moon are complicit;

getting ready for the seasons fall

—In pageantry and bright colors

before winter candles are lit;

 

to read by and catch the glow

on the faces by the fireside

and smile with the rewards

of another year, gone by.

the leaves are laughing

giddy all spring and summer

sleep gently tonight

 
1 Comment

Posted by on September 2, 2020 in Haiku, Love, Nature, Poetry, Zen

 

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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

 

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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

 
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Posted by on August 20, 2020 in Existential, Haibun, Love, Nature, Quarantined, Sittting still, Zen

 

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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

 

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self-pity

the leaves flirt with the moon in a summer breeze,

flickering light between trees;

as I remembered our first kiss.

 

Now, here we sit, in our distance

without romance or adventure.

We sip our home-grown tea.

 

Flower without sun

Light without darkness of moon

Wilts in self-pity

 
14 Comments

Posted by on July 31, 2020 in Haiku, Love, Poetry, Still Quarantined, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 5th. 2020

 a note to my children:

You were all born with an Angel on your shoulder

Disguised as a small invisible white bird.

 

Look at you now! All grown up with a smile;

And without a frown, that ultimately always shines,

As bright as the moon clears the clouds.

 

Who knew how each of you would grow up;

with your mother and I. (in each smile and frown!)

 

Love you

For ever

As you were born

Sitting on your shoulder

we heard a white bird

Which our hearts still hear.

 
8 Comments

Posted by on June 6, 2020 in Children, Existential, Love, Poetry, Spiritual, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 3rd. 2020

two mourning doves: (haibun)

      relationships are being defined in the environment of the nest they live in.

–some in a tree with no leaves that once held dreams.— the true skeleton behind the feathers exposes its heart.

     rattling off to a branch, bones tickling each other, they wait for another Love’s morning.

sunlight drying dew

summer’s warmth removes the sheet

pillow soft asleep

 

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Love: as ever has been

We have watched the sunrise

below the mountains and settle behind the sea.

 

 We have ridin’ the wind,

Walked beach sands and bused to Boston.

 

 We have taken pain

To the Joy of understanding.

 

 We have taken each other

Further than any of us have ever gone;

 

 By just being present.

True to ourselves. True to each other.

 

 We have been

As we are; as ever has been.

 

~Rt. 132 North~ R.K. Garon

 
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Posted by on May 24, 2020 in Beginnings, Love, Poetry, Zen

 

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~Pine Cone Diary~ March 2020

     **********

There is a sickness in the air

Tree tops are passing the news

To the stones and the soil

To prepare the paths

Through the forest

And into the valleys

To the villages of compassion;

To be cured .

 

     **********

 

Above darkening gray clouds

The dim glowing sun

Caught my eye.

I started to hum,

“Everything’s gonna’ be alright.”

As dusk, settled on my chair.

I silenced it with a sigh.

 

 **********

 

From ground to empty stoneware pottery,

my soul poured out my life

into my morning’s coffee cup;

existence to non-existence.

Oh, then to remembrance;

of knowledge, when I first held out my hand

—holding, the first summer’s rose.

I emptied my cup

holding empty stoneware pottery

waiting in anticipation for tomorrow’s coffee..

 

 

 

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