A new name, a sort-of-but-not-really new look, new and different stuff to be posted.

It occurs to me that there are things missing.  Things I think that never get out.  For most people that seems perfectly fine.  I'm sure I could learn to live with it.  But, I don't really want to.  Nor do I have to.

I want to share the strange things I see.  The other night I was at the bar and spent a couple of hours staring at the pool table trying to figure out how to hit one ball and put them all in a pocket. No, seriously, I spend hours on this shit.  Most people suspect this is how my brain works, few people see that it's undeniably true that I am a neurotic half-Jew who should have a room next to the Rain Man some days.

I think I need to get over the narcissism inherent in blogging.  I've never had a problem with being a narcissist before.  It's probably a good thing that I'm worrying about it, even if I'll ignore it.  And, if it annoys me I'll just put some concrete shoes on it and toss it in the river all mafia style.

Some inheritance from Adam
of serotonin flowing like mud
- a craving for a drug.
And, like chromosomes
still seen by science
a microscope, DNA
sequenced in absence of proof
of Hebraic certainties.
I do not know where
this thing comes from.
Or, why I can only take a pill,
spill some wine, feel a body.
Now I dream of a cure.

To Stand Amongst Mountains

To stand amongst mountains,
and conquer their awe
where man has yet to take fully his hold.

And, beasts, their eyes brown,
and shoulders taller than a man
live through high winters.

There are slow movements in the trees,
green for their short time
in the altitude's truncated summers.

There is air that modern man does not know.
Still I would breathe it,
in those granite temples.

That I Am With You

I used to envy stars
in their loneliness.
I found some solace
in knowing they
survived alone.
But, now with you,
I know the stars and comets
live half a life,
though it is measured in millenia.
I have few words left,
so like the hermits in their spheres
the only thing I know to do
is to exist,
but I am lucky;
I get to do it with you.

Stars, your dance.

Stars, your dance I have watched
through lens, through my eyes,
with science and mysticism entwined.
And, still I fear there is some secret
not in your temperature, not in your size,
but in your plutonium heart and diamond veins.
If I ventured a guess in my mortal way,
you know man too well to speak his name,
for fear the speaking will change his fate
- it is not his fate you made,
but the one written in the book you read.

Hearing Your Words

Silver tongue and the runes
written in your smile
saying everything I've ever
wanted to hear.
How could I not love you?

Wax of My Wings

With solitude, your hermitage

a place like a prison, small.

I stood in it, sat in its tree-like boughs,

and dreamt a different future than this.

You were safe enough for me

not to try until my wings grew back.

I was a colder version of a phoenix,

no fire shot from my fingertips,

I had gone cold, but still I rose.

Now, in this unforeseen universe

I shape the wax of my wings on my own.