In the middle of trading tense Nasdaq futures,
My cat scratched at the bedroom door
And came to find me.
Outside, it was a season of heavy, falling snow.
Oh my!
The cat was dozing peacefully on my chair,
Drunk on the lingering scent of my body.
I gently nudged the cat aside with my hip to sit down,
But its tiny body was so incredibly warm.
There was absolutely no need for a heater in the room.
And just like that, I suffered a beautiful burn
From that sweet, sudden warmth.
Meanwhile, on the monitor, the Nasdaq futures index
Was already burning up in flames.
The very moment I lost my grip and missed the loss-cut line,
My cat stares at me with the most pitiful eyes.
“Aeyong—”
‘Well, human, looks like you won't be able to buy my kibble tomorrow!’
‘I can starve tomorrow and endure the hunger,
But you better clean up my poop from the litter box right away!’
“Aeyong—!”
OPTIMISTIC FUTURES-:-
launching
indulging
dreams
spoken
aloud
then FOLLOW IN TIME
understated
unreal
claims
expose
reality
of IMAGINATION'S
quickly
projected
artistic
manifold
genre
parents are teachers
guiding children as they grow
opening their eyes
Where your memories lie
are your promises kept
The past seeds the future
— as the present begets
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
I’m finally going to get on that platform
on the 18th of next month,
for a first-time, one-time performance.
The once, seemingly impossible will come fully true,
which seems like a lot narratively.
It’ll be like leaving home—but we’re crashing out.
Moving on to other plot points, big topics and intense missions.
We’re all caustically optimistic.
Although there’s a cellular-level pull to move on
we can’t help but feel a hesitancy to jump into our multifarious futures.
We’ve never been improvident.
In my personal pool of experience, when I feel alone,
friendless and unseen, this unintelligible fear noise arises,
and I'm tempted to tap out. But I never have.
.
.
Songs for this:
walk but in a garden by LLusion
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
I Like You (A Happier Song) [feat. Doja Cat] by Post Malone
When the future became the past,
We then knew the future could not last.
Peter and I are together and we’re in a grove.
Time is our treasure, precious and dwindling.
I watch for signs of the future unfolding,
like a twitch that might be the first sign of a stroke.
Answers will come - slowly - or they’ll parachute in from nowhere.
We spend a lot of time together but most of it is spent studying.
We both have silences that shouldn’t be penetrated.
I have so many questions, but I keep them at a safe distance,
so I don’t feel the need to interact with them.
All I know is we’re alive, and we still have to dance.
It's not always fun, operating in the face of uncertainty
but what else can we do - except go through the motions?
“When exactly did the world lose its collective mind?” I asked, reading the news on my iPad.
Peter looked up from the book he was highlighting with a phosphorescent pink pen.
“They’ve found toxic metals in CHOCOLATES. Everywhere.” I announced, like that Poe bird.
“I guess we’re canceling chocolate then,” he said, sarcastically, “we’ll adapt.”
“Yeah, you bet.” I said with genuine irony.
Bigger in my memory
smaller in my inclination
Regret a distant calling card
admonishing my name
Vacant in my recollection
bedded in my hopefulness
Joy a future invitation
—Heaven to proclaim
(Christmas Wishing: First Book Of Prayers- December, 2022)
Seems companies are betting big
on real estate in the metaverse…
I cannot possibly surmise
an investment in a scheme that’s worse.
Perhaps you’d like an NFT?
Afraid it’s all fungible to me…
Or maybe cryptocurrency?
Once again, it seems all Greek to me.
Give me some land to plant my feet;
vegetables in a garden sweet.
Some borrow to reduce the shock;
I’ll stick to cash and not go in hock.
I know I’m an old-fashioned guy,
and probably more so when I die…
So I’ll invest in my grandkids,
hope when I pass that they say, “He did!”
It started from children living in disharmony.
Parents living with fear and urgency.
Their siblings leave them behind to seek their own legacy.
The siblings that were their only friends leaving them helplessly.
And as their siblings are driven to pursue-
There is a new need for people like me- years of helplessness to undo.
Cool is the evening air that touches
my face standing there
viewing time ebb and flow,
Memories.
Run their course as a tear traces
my countenance so much so little
To soon too late
wishing I may.
Feeling I might.
Know what is coming tonight as
the sun hides in his corona of fire.
Atomic specter rises, feel the after flash
slumbering are my thoughts
tangled are my memories
In flux of all creation revolves around this crux
This is the Flash Point of my time
I come to stand in the dark
bright full of hours of midnight…
I crash my car into the storm
I stare into the dark
into my future as it is past
Feeling time slip casting
past my sight
watching the plates shatter,
the oranges and ornaments
suspended in the supernova
An infinite loop
Cosmic oscillations building
bridges burning bright
Bridges across time
Across the Event Horizon
Piercing a membrane of creation
three seconds to midnight
I take the flight, strata light
Arcing in the deepest void
To no where, no where, nothing known
Dark bright full of hours at midnight…
Starlight strata light
In quantum isolations
theoretical bridges crossing
Black as night Space deep personified
Tracing the membrane cosmic your intercourse
Of deities suicide
Divinities burn, zero moments zero-sum of silence quiet brilliant strata light
turning the black to a brilliant white
This the night of infinite symmetry
Cosmic oscillations bridge the burning night
Three seconds to midnight
Starlight strata light
In quantum isolations
theoretical bridges crossing
Black as night Space deep personified
Arcing in the deepest of space
Oscillations and radiations
burn through oblivion’ void
Dark bright Full of hours of midnight
Casting shards hard and dark
into futures past nothing
will last time slips away
fast casting thoughts
back as the plate cracks
Shatters all crumbles to dust
broken at last in desolation’s
aftermath as night gathers
in her past dark light of a new moon
in the wee hours morn
after night comes
from the east dusky winds
full of futures past comes
Let's pretend that
children we are,on
shiny bikes.
Whizzing about our
charming town.
So welcomed we
were by all the local
business owners.
Back then,a child could
buy an eraser from a
big jar.
Even go alone~not in
Daddy's car!
Times today so pressured,
fearful and fast.
No time for our friends or
so we ponder.
Till suddenly they are gone
and down under!
Cherish the minutes you
breathe.
People rushing past each
other?
Prevents us from time
and loving one another.
Make space for loving all
religions and colors,
But look, if you can into
their angel eyes!
You both can do a circle
dance of gladness, and it's
no surprise!
Messages do flash of hope
and togetherness.
We honor God and His
bountiful Holiness!
5/31/2021
Draw a stick figure
future - diminished
and virus ransomed.
Paint the landscape
with the sweltering glare
of global warming.
Come share this
with me - let kisses heal and
soft whispers inflame.
Some locks need two keys
to open, some heavens can
be reached by mortals.
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