What is, and is not necessary—a dialogue.

Whatever’s in my head, is there because I put it there.

It’s there because I allow it to be.

Whatever’s in yours, is yours—I’ve no idea, nor should.

If you’re curious, you may ask and I may tell you whatever’s in my head.

I may not, though that is up to me, as it is equally up to you.

So if and when I seem distant, it’s only because I’m having an internal debate on which to share.

I’m deliberately choosing words which may or may not have an impact on your own definition of me—of you.

Whatever’s in my head may change, in fact, depending on your point of view, so tread however you will when speaking, knowing that—

Whatever’s in your head, is there because we put it there.

And we being a positive or a negative really doesn’t matter.

What matters is, matter of factly null and void, more likely because,

whatever’s in your head, is there because you put it there.

It’s there because it is, if it wasn’t then, well, we wouldn’t be having this discussion with ourselves to begin with.

See. When two people interact or share in a discussion, it’s not simply a yes or no dialogue.

It’s not simply an A and B conversation but rather an (A,(B)) + (C,(D)) process of beliefs which often can be tricky or seem unfair.

And the more you think about it, the less there is to say, because, more times than not it’s what we don’t say that often really matters.

Perhaps I haven’t found the correct words, or perhaps I’m overthinking, perhaps I’m just learning how to communicate all together on a daily.

It’s like casting a line of bate to water. If the intended fish decides to bite, then it’s fair game, but when the intended fish is forced to bite, which for lack of a better metaphor, one can’t exactly force a fish to bite, then there’s an unfair advantage.

The bate is not merely physical bate, but encompasses the mind from which it’s cast with hope, fear, and determination—etc and so on.

The fish may rationalize it’s right to choose feast or famine, ultimately accepting it’s fate regardless of the line cast, by choice of internal and external response, which leads me back to my original point being…

Whatever’s in my head, is there because I put it there.

It’s there because I’ve reserved a rationality for it, and, regardless of the outcome, it’s necessary solely to me.

Further more, what’s necessary to me—perhaps the real point here—is not, nor should be expected to be necessary to you.

Any questions?

WARNING: something I should have mentioned earlier

If you’re going to read me

Don’t read me with a grain of salt

Read me with the whole damn salt shaker—

Trust me, it’s for the best.

The Vatican with Friends, Rome 2012

Beautiful Days

Beautiful music plays

while I remember—the worst—

most beautiful days.

Austin’s Coffee, 2011

Patience and Surrender

Most things can’t be unsaid,

though in my heart—

under the mess I’ve made—they

can be understood, in time

with patience and surrender.

I’ll always surrender.

I just haven’t got the skin,

I just haven’t got the heart

not to know better.

November 28 2020

A three ring circus

I was mocked

Then told off

On two separate occasions

For doing what excites me

For mere entertainment

Taken, always taken

Out of sorts and out of mind

Like a three ring circus,

This tamer’s been bit

For the very, very

Very last time.

still as the evening air

For some reason, people

just keep on sticking around—

no matter how I push them away.

And God knows I’ve tried, yet

still as the evening air

they remain, willing and shifty

to see me from my darkness

onward, till dawn.

I’m not talking about Cards

If it works out

It works out

If not, you learn a lesson

You move on to the next

Split hands and

Double down

Chaos Theory

If we can accept ourselves

in life, and that in this life

we’re living, the right way

and the wrong way, mostly

aren’t ever in alignment

with our true nature of self,

rather it’s often

sideways we must go, sideways

like the pebble in the stream

knows only one direction,

and that chaos when reversed

reveals itself as precisely

the way it ought to be.

Communion in the Park

Men in the park

grip brown paper bags

certain as Catholic nuns

grasp their faith,

both counting one

by one, until neither

makes any difference

in the course of eternity.

Two paths, one park bench—

Angelic in their own rite.

Hot and Wild

I don’t need a fan

or a fawn, I need a fire—

Hot and Wild—black as coal,

as clean as a diamond

dazzling

in the mud of my soul.

Self Portrait, West Haven CT, `2013