Weekend: What did you see?

tonight's moon

go where the river run

when the moon is holding water and the sky has gone bone dry
when the hour it is witching the wind howls do or die
do you think you will be ready to face the music and the facts
will your purpose tip the balance will you have the strength to act

go on go on go on there's so much more to be done
surely some path will open so go where the river run

like leaves that fall in season like a snake that sheds its skin
like winter snow that's melting they're dying to begin
what if it's now or never and you only get one turn
will you fold your hand in passing on the lesson to be learned

when the landscape looks so barren you'd swear there is no sound
when all has gone to darkness where can hope be found
well you know it's not in wishing the past could be undone
for it's only in the doing that happiness is won

the angry storm that rages the tears that come like rain
the tragic act that holds you so tightly in its pain
oh leave it where it happened leave it cause you must
don't be taken with it we need you here with us

go on go on go on there's so much more to be done
surely some path will open so go where the river run
go where the river run, so go where the river run

- written sometime in the 90's, for all who have known tragedy

Fuck NJ

Fuck NJ. Not Suzie or Janice or Mickey but NJ. This is graffiti on the Ben Franklin bridge in Philadelphia and its odd declaration got me thinking. Is it just human nature to denigrate and scorn the other?

I understand the need for us to belong. The self inflicted feeling of separation haunts us for a lifetime and so we seek connection however we can find it. Through lovers and mates, through race and culture and religion, through beliefs and preferences, through clubs and cliques we align ourselves with this or that seeking validation and confirmation that I am. I exist.

I suppose we then belittle all that we did not choose  to reassure ourselves that we have chosen correctly.  We are right.

I am from Pennsylvania, this imaginary place drawn on vague maps 300 years ago by guys who'd never seen the place and bought with trinkets from people who knew it is not possible to own land.

I am from Pennsylvania so fuck New Jersey. And fuck New York and Delaware too.

I am from the United States so fuck Canada. And Mexico and Cuba.

I am from Earth so fuck the moon. Fuck Jupiter and Mars too.

Man, I feel better already and I'm just getting started. Gotta get some spray paint.

dog walk sounds

today the dog's walk was at nightfall it's getting dark earlier now
at the bridge a deer is standing in the creek I haven't seen one there before
we watch each other until I move  she jumps into the cornfield
in fading light there is less to see more to hear
a gentle rain begins to fall on paper-like leaves of corn
it might be the same sound made by a thousand mice feet
along the meadow creek a feint ripple wake punctuated with a loud splash that spooks the dog - I doubt the muskrat has many visitors this late in the day
heavy movement in the corn and many footsteps deer on the move - the other day the paper warned us this would happen
the crunch crunch of my shoes on gravel
jingle of metal dog collar Holly calls serious bling
along the road beneath some power lines  but in just one spot a distinct buzzing and I can't tell if it's something with the wires or a horde of insects in this bush all saying the same thing
cars on wet roads begins afar and builds to woosh and fades not unlike the surf the rise and fall
we stop to get the mail and paper
it's dark now and we're wet.....