Archive for December, 2016

The New Year is approaching. Damn, I’m glad I’ve almost made it another 366 days. Some days went quickly, some days dragged by. Time, a very relative thing. I wonder if time would even exist if there was no life in the universe. Time may only be a remnant of life itself. What difference does time make to a rock or gas or liquid? Life is the only thing that has an expiring life span. Whether made intelligent and conscious or only a one-celled microscopic plant or bug. Life is born and soon dies.

What difference does time make to a rock, it doesn’t give a shit how long it takes for it to be first spewed from the center of the earth until it is blown to hell and gone as a speck of sand. A billion, 2 billions years? So what, it’s just a fricking rock. I have, maybe if I’m lucky, 77.6 years. Then I’ll be blown to hell and gone as a speck of the star-dust that I was made from. Time is a very precious thing to me. I have a few short years, then I won’t care what fucking time it is either. And in maybe another billion years some of my atoms may also end up nothing more than a particle in some boulder stuck out in the middle of Utah somewhere. You’ve seen them, a big fucking rock balanced on the edge of a cliff, not giving a shit whether it will fall or not. That will be part me and you, out in the middle of a desert in Numbfrickin, Utah.

And we won’t care if it’s January, February, March or time for supper. Because our life will have gone by just a shade under 300,000,000 meters per second.

Happy New Year!

E.

(Again, I apologize for E’s frankness. He very seldom has an optimistic or even a poetic view of getting another year older.    John)

Advertisements

Dec. 21, winter solstice, first day of winter, the least amount of daylight, is called the shortest day of the year. Winter, the season that gets better from the very moment that it begins. Yes, although the temperatures may be more extreme, we will have more sunshine by a minute or two each day from now until summer begins on June 21 next year. We can start to enjoy winter because the days will now only get better. No wonder this day caught the eye of even the most ancient men. Every afternoon sitting in their cave watching the sun set farther and farther south causing less and less time during the day and more and more time in the darkness of night. More time spent guarding against the predators of the night and less time during the day spent hunting for food and shelter. They seriously wondered if the sun would return.

When did they realize that the sun could be depended on to finally ebb at its furthest reach and slowly begin travel of the reverse bringing with it needed daylight and warmth. I’m sure they celebrated this day as they watched the sun set and rise on the two landmarks they may have physically or mentally erected on the horizon. As should we. They could measure their stored food reserve and know that they would either have enough to last the remaining half of their most sparse days or not enough. They would know that their lean days and confinement would indeed end. Although the remaining days of the season may be hard, they would at least be measurable.

When I notice the sun shining through our south windows and reflecting from the glass doors on our old book-case, without looking at the calendar I know that we are approaching this season. Not as elaborate as Stonehenge but just as effective. And deep down in the core of me, I still feel a sense of relief that the growing darkness is contained and the sunshine will remain just a little longer each day. Although, my food supply is as close as our neighborhood grocery store and the fuel for my fire is delivered to me effortlessly, I have this innate feeling of relief on this day each year. A core feeling that is as surely as much the evidence of the remains of our ancient ancestors as the huge heavy stone pillars of Wiltshire or the small stone circles and charcoal of their ancient fires. The core feelings from the remains of their DNA memory. Their feelings of survival, relief and wonder are in me even though my life is now much easier.

The changing of the seasons are powerful events for man, events that their survival depended on. They mark celebrations, the beginning of tasks and the beginnings and endings of hot and cold climate and the abundance of food. Man is finely tuned to them. We are finely tuned to them because of the feelings and behaviors that were engraved into our DNA from early ancient man as they observed, learned and adapted to those predictable seasonal times.

I wonder what feelings and behaviors we are engraving into the DNA memory of future man from the powerful events of our days. We are not just leaving the ruins of our buildings, pottery, weapons and bones. We are leaving behind either the good knowledge or the ruins of our minds in our inherited DNA. Which of these, the knowledge or the ruins, from today’s events of our civilization will be ingrained and become innate behavior or feelings of our future man? What ingrained seasons will we pass on for them to celebrate from our DNA?

Such is the life of John

Well, the count down begins. A couple of more days and it’s Xmas Eve, then a few more and it’s New Year’s Day. We spend the last couple of weeks of December just counting down. Perhaps wasting the days in-between. Not paying attention to the anniversary of the first powered flight, the first day of winter or the invention of typesetting. John’s wife’s birthday passes and few acknowledge it, she is one of the unlucky ones that many times received birthday and Christmas presents on the same day or worse, combined Merry Xmas and Happy Birthday on the same note on the package. Her birthday is on the 29th.

Christmas!

I used to play the game and give and spend and put up trees and decorate with lights and throw a dollar in the bell ringers pot each time I crowded my way into the discount store to save a couple bucks. Stew with my wife what to get little Billie, Sallie and grown child Mickie this year and worry if we got the right thing or have given enough cash. We gather together the few times a year we all can stand each other, to gorge on a Christmas meal that takes 2 days and 6 hours to prepare and 20 minutes to consume.

Christmas! Phooey!

Let’s drop the facade. The season has totally lost its meaning. But every year the precious few that believe and those billions of others that really believe nothing but merchandising,  try to hand crank some meaning into these few days. Face it! We kids are excited because of Santa Claus and we never grow out of it. Give me, give me, give me and I want I want I want. Makes me sick!

For a few years, during my formative childhood, I watched my folks try to make something of this Holiday. Really! Our stockings were hung up on the backs of chairs, not fire places and they were socks, real everyday socks that we wore the rest of the year. Xmas morning we would have an orange, if it fit, a toothbrush and little sample tube of toothpaste, a little AAA battery flashlight, probably with the drug store name or our gas station’s brand on it, a few un-shelled salted peanuts and a few pieces of hard candy. It was fun, I’d like to say that we were delighted but we all knew it was slim pickings. Our gift was from our Aunt and Uncle (clothes or a book which I really did cherish and appreciate) and maybe something homemade from my brother and sisters that we made in school.

Our mother was not evangelical but she was the most spiritual person I have ever known, we were quietly taught the true meaning of Christmas. So we knew what the Holiday meant. That’s how I think of Christmas today.

The earliest I remember, about 8 years old, it seemed it had nothing to do with what our Mother taught us. I looked forward to Xmas but I was relieved the next day when it was over. Even that young, a child that was glad Xmas was over.  The pressure was off the folks. The only thing left was after New Years, going back to school and the teacher asking each of us to stand up and tell the class the best thing we got for Xmas. I hope teachers today are more sensitive than that. There are a few near adults trapped in children’s bodies in your class. A new shirt and socks was really great to have, and was the best but not something that compares to the others trains, dolls and bicycles. So I lied about getting an imaginary football or ice skates or sled. Probably something I was reading about in the book I were given.

So yes, Baa Humbug!! We can’t fight it anymore than we can fight daylight saving time. We just roll with it, it is that time of year to give what you can, pass on the good thoughts if you have any and  just be kind to others. And mostly remember, don’t disillusion the kids about Santa Claus before they are at least in second or third grade.

E.

Summer in December

What’s that feeling you get
hearing that voice or song or music
remembering
who you were with, the thing you were doing
the time, the song,
the black and white picture in your mind
the favorite shirt, the wild hair.
What is that feeling
The down deep feeling
sort of good but empty, sort of sad,
how many years and how many are gone
Getting what we need,
But so many left behind
Listening under the near full moon
The words, the notes,
with that dusty woman.
The hair scent and the feel of goose bumped skin.
Feeling summer in December

DSS

It is -9 F here this morning, I’m OK, the pipes aren’t frozen, the snow was only a skiff, and I have no place I need to go. We are stocked up on bread, milk and batteries, our survival is assured, now if we only had a couple of boxes of Girl Scout cookies, I’ve heard stories of old couples surviving for 8 or 10 days in their snow-covered cars with only a blanket, a bottle of Aquafina and two boxes of Thin Mints,  An amazing story, somewhere out in northwestern Kansas if I remember right. This kind of weather makes you want to think of more pleasant seasons.

Here’s a poem I wrote in December three years ago, just to get winter off my mind. I’m getting that feeling again.

First Posted: December 15, 2013

DSS

I Like Naked Women

Posted: December 9, 2016 in free verse, poem, poet, poetry, writing
Tags: , ,

(My Winter Poem)

I have to get one thing off my chest
I admit it, I like naked women
I know that surprises you
it is unusual
But it is a great revelation
that a man such as me
an overgrown child really
Adoring naked women
But usually only one at a time
So if you come knocking at my door in pairs
All naked and without a stitch,
It will raise an alarm
I probably won’t answer immediately
I might have to think about it for maybe
2 or 3 seconds.
So if it is cold outside,
It might be best that you wear a coat.
Both of you….
of course….
Very naked underneath

OC