Abandoned Grocery Cart

Jammed with the rocks at the riverbank

Submerged in water at high tide

Saved by a fisherman brought inland

Now you are with flowers along the walkway

Which journey will I find you again?

You can’t venture on your own.

Will you vanish somewhere

Or drift into oblivion

What will happen if Kierkegaard

or Salvador Dali find you?

I don’t think I will be dancing in strawberry field

I may write about absurdity of abandoned grocery carts.

Perhaps some ideas are astonishing

We think of wild things

Like kissing at the middle of storm

I will not be writing in Russian.

note: The book I am reading: Either/Or by Elif Batuman.

A Letter

Avoidance of annoyances repeatedly

Life remains in narrowed preferences

I know some words to add, some experiences 

To relate, must not let them fade away

I open my eyes in the morning

Utter my first intelligent thought

A praise may be or a prayer

To see, not necessarily to understand

Not inquisitive but to experience

Is it too late now to find the reason

For not knowing?

My relationship ends unexpectedly

Without any arguments or strained voices

A decent separation, not devoting time

To keep each other’s attention

The dinner loses the delicious taste

We become monuments to each other.

Sometimes one has to cross a perilous river

To deliver a letter of forgiveness.

note: I finished reading Piranesi by Susanna Clarke and Kant’s Little Prussian Head & Other Reasons Why I Write, an autobiography in essays by Claire Messud.

I’m reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke which I started reading a long time ago but never finished and For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway. All these long reads in the time of Covid.

ANYWAY

taken from Diary of a Word Nerd:https://www.juliatomiak.com

Once

We meet once in a farmer’s market

You are selecting a peach, I’m buying okra

Talk and walk and laugh

You spin a loom, I wield an ax

Gather, break, understand

Happy when together

A long beautiful day we wish each other

Before we wave goodbye

Cups of coffee and talks

Walks along the river

What is abstract 

A question of enchantment 

How do we measure 

Content or duration

And weight 

Are dimensions important?

My Tuesday Walk to the River

Why will someone leaves a helmet on a bench

Or hide an empty  Remy Martin under a shrub

Around us from a safe distance, wild fires rage

Smokes drift our way

The sun is burning orange

My mistake is to try capture the spectacle

Forgetting my focus can burn my eyes

Walking home a hummingbird catches my eye

Dancing from one flower to the next

In time of the pandemic is everything relevant?

Color of my Friday

Mrs. Abstract and I came down from the mountain and returned home yesterday. The traffic was light although there was about half hour slow down because of road repair work.

Afterwards the trip was smooth, all downhill and fast.

Today I walked to the river.

 

 

 

Reflection

Invent reality?

Is there a minimum of thought

One has to do everyday?

 

She is playing a guitar

and humming then singing

about ideas and consequences

then stops and starts writing furiously

“Examine your own courage

if you can get up every morning

with a better will than the day before?”

A cat comes, nozzles in her arms

She touches her with equal affection

then she looks at me and exclaims:

“Is it sad or meaningful or ostentatious to say—

I hiked Switzerland the whole summer?

Or I hug cows to relieve my stress?”

The cat jumps, goes to the window, sits purring.

 

Time folds, distorts harmony of living

Why bemoans the loss during the pandemic

Thousands are dying, millions lost their jobs,

thousands are lining up for food.

 

Time has changed unlike any other time:

A call for one another to stay together.

Merrily

One fisherman

alone in the river

fish merrily play 

When weather changes it’s mind

I’m sorry I have not written anything lately.

I’m in the hospital for another condition other than Cobid-19.

I think I’m getting better.

Promise

“I don’t need a light

to think of you.”

true and curious apprehension

a letter