Rob decides to make another comeback . . . because a band of one can always get back together.
Category: Haiku
Tanka Thursday 2022.12.15 —
My mind floats terete,
wrapped in a single surface
of self-reflection:
a flaky, birch bark conceit —
a defense against the world.
Poised as a flower
on it’s electrical stem,
blooming rather late,
finds the source of its power
a well of solemn rebate.
Yesterday was the first day of my Christmas vacation.
I thought this year I’d take the two days after Christmas off so that I could have a five-day stretch after, before going back to work. Unfortunately, someone else had already laid claim to it, so I was out of luck. After finishing our latest recruit’s training paperwork, however, I took another look at the schedule and discovered that there were five days before Christmas that nobody else had taken off. I was able to take that off, and now I’m on day two of a twelve-day staycation . . . through Christmas day.
I couldn’t be happier with the way that shook out.
The blizzard that has taken the American Midwest by storm (pun intended) is still doing its worst, although things are quiet around here this morning, and the worst thing we’ve had to do, I believe, is the wife had to go clear out the window well around the dryer vent. For my part, I was planning a supply run when I realized I had fully intended to write a blog post first thing in the morning. Of course, this is that for me because I just came from working night shifts Tuesday night and I have the supreme luck of being able to skip the rest of this round of nights — but I was up until three in the morning playing Fortnite. Up at 0900, delete a fresh, steaming load of emails; cup of coffee; sit down to write a blog post. Sounds like a good start to the day to me.
So here I am, day two, and there’s some potential here. Coming back to the page, drying out and doubling down on my intent to do things right and well. Because every day is the first day of the remainder of our lives, and that’s exactly the kind of reflection that can put our priorities in perspective.
I hope your holidays are finding you well and preparing for a celebration of life lived rebelliously well, in spite of the darkness.
Skål ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My newest discovery, Jonathan Doyle. I was proudly blogging to this, after finishing a vintage vinyl pressing of The Who’s Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy.
Waka Wednesday – 2022.12.14
Silent, overblown . . .
summer’s ashes fill the air.
Soft light, piercing air
fill this steely land of stone,
frozen ghosts, and icy bones.
I even forgot the title . . .
Ashes and vapor —
when the world
refuses to end,
I’ll catch what remains
of color and light.
For this is my way:
surviving,
building my fences,
and always looking
for my way back in.
I sure hope everyone is enjoying the Summer, such as it is. I’m working on finding my way through some speedbumps in life, but otherwise clocking along. Maybe that’s just how we have to do it — cutting our losses and moving forward with hope for the future.
Such as it is.
So Much Spin — 2022.05.09
It’s funny, how they spin —
as if the sun wouldn’t shine
through an open door;
as if light won’t penetrate
through their cracked machination.
Walls always crumble —
whether by tide, time, or force —
into shifting sand;
wide open wilderness
unfolding its Truth.
We inherit ourselves.
I guess this will be one of those days where I work on me and let the poetry stand by itself.
Just give in to the light.
Solitaire — 2022.04.08-10
A solitaire calls:
“that’s a wrap!”
no stage fright afoot.
Nobody‘s fool
fearlessly facing
its laden plate
Nervous sweat falls as
the mourning do,
their grief feeds the root.
Fighting back
the impulse to wilt
at this state
Thriving as the living do
Surviving as we fight too
Saturday Jams: After the Flood!
Today we’re firing up that tasty rainbow Saturday Jams EQ for our After the Flood edition of your favorite music video blog periodical!
Consider this — 2022.03.18
What is greatness, but
A tree on earnest soil,
roots of reverence —
long limbs’ labors limitless,
largely spent honing its heart?
Looking to the sky . . .
yearning to find a way up
without letting go,
deeply desiring to dream
and to be dreamt of in art.
reach down through the earth . . .
never stopping, never cease!
Break the foundation,
probing paths for prospective
propagations to start.
Cultivate —
communicate —
Reflection.
Reverence.
Growth.
And here I am again, doing the hard work.
Of course, I never meant for this blog to hibernate, coming back to find so many lost to the donnybrooks of the past several years — the politics and pandemic, so many things that left a bad taste in my mouth and left my mind feeling infertile. I really wish people could just work together to make the world a better place for everyone. Looking back, I believe that in response to these growing situations I stopped trying. I stopped putting down my creative roots to take care of a growing rot in my life, and by the time I had it squared away I had forgotten that I had put my writing in the backseat, and it is so hard getting back to it.
I DESERVE TO BE GREAT.
That is my mantra, which a fellow blogger inspired me to formulate. I had almost forgotten: that is why I moved forward with my plan to change my life in the first place. Not that I feel so great all the time . . . rather, I feel more precarious than ever at times, and I hesitate to move on opportunities because I don’t want to lose out on what I already have, or because I find the process uncomfortable. But I deserve to be great, and I need to aspire to be great in the things I do for this world — locally, and globally. I need to stick my neck out in very real ways if I want to help.
So yes, I DESERVE TO BE GREAT. But “being great” doesn’t happen by itself. I have to make the choices. I have to push for making decent choices, professional decisions . . . to do the right things in life.
Is this what I’m supposed to put on the table when I’m interviewing for a position in the patrol division? It sure sounds good, but I’d really have to sell it. I have to internalize it. Because I do deserve to be great. But I have to make it happen; nobody is going to hand me greatness on a fancy plate because I don’t deserve it for free. We work for everything and we get what we pay for in sweat and blood and honesty.
I keep trying. I keep moving forward, and I’m not perfect. I make a poor judgment call here and there. Even those times are a bridge to being great, and becoming greater still.
We all deserve to be great, don’t we?
Saturday Jams: Spring Flood Edition
Today we’re firing up that beautiful rainbow Saturday Jams EQ for a special Spring Flood edition of your favorite music video blog periodical!
Drying up — 2022.03.09
A vibrant landscape
smothered beneath arid dust
of fallen castles,
and our legions march, lockstep,
toward the next horizon —
crossing that dry bridge
between shrinking oases
as winter sets in.
Evaporate,
Justice the Ideal;
let us thirst,
left baking
under stars we invented
to honor Progress.
Twilight looms,
the only promise.
Follow the links in the poem’s text if you would like to scour the sources of my prompts: Fandango and the Ragtag Community. In their comments sections there is much more to discover!
Rob's Surf Report 