Ruined

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Once upon a time

a storm moved through here

and made this place it’s own.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Did it use lava or ice or snow

did it race through or walk through

these now ruined hills

did it take away it’s victim’s bones

to feast upon later?

Photo A.M. Moscoso

 

Could it have been held back,

could it have been fought off?

The scars it left behind

spell

I wish.

 

RDP Friday: AVALANCHE

So Much For That

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Balance.

 

We need balance

in what we eat

what we wear

what we read

and how we conduct ourselves

in a Universe that demands

for our survival.

Balance.

 

Why is it then

that the ground under my feet

and the thoughts in my head

careen from one place to another

and never make sense.

 

Where

are

you

Balance?

 

Why do you hate me so, avoid me at every turn, never answer my call

will we ever be friends?

Will I ever know you

Balance?

 

RDP Tuesday: balance

I Wrote This

I am struggling with this-

Does posting quips on a comment thread or a few lines about an article that someone else wrote on Facebook make you a writer or a journalist?

I know that when writers and poets or musicians dedicate themselves to their craft they name themselves a Writer, Musician, Artist, Poet.

But a certain amount of passion and dedication brings them to that point. If you do it on Facebook all you have to do is whip your phone out and you are now in the same league as-( fill in the blank) .

I’ve noticed something  else interesting and a bit disturbing on Facebook.

People aren’t just having conversations- they correct each other’s grammar, they fact check each other, they  leave letters ( or comments maybe a better term ) of complaint to each other for saying the wrong thing- or saying someone is missing the point or for being on the wrong side of their issue. It’s  not much different then how they react to news stories from the media outlet of their choice.

I like my friends- the real ones are pretty unique and interesting and the Facebook ones are amusing but I don’t look to them to tell me which way the wind is blowing and I also don’t use those newsfeeds as a way to gain some insight into what they’re thinking.

As a writer- granted I write fiction for the most part- if you want to get an idea about how my head works then my writing is the way to catch a glimpse of that process.

That picture I posted of the cat and dog praying over a piece of pizza they’re going to steal, well all you’ll learn from that is I like cats and dogs. But the WHY won’t be there. I won’t be there because not only did I not take the picture, I didn’t put the funny line to it.

I’m wondering as you can see, does Facebook truly  inspire creativity or healthy  conversations? We can share an idea or a picture and then the trolls come along and who is talking to each other anymore? Nobody because the trolls or someone who just feels like setting the world straight will make it all about them.

It happens ever single time.

Does Facebook  really  have the power make us who we want to be in real life -witty commentators, journalists or writers. Do we really believe that we ‘have the floor’ ( at last )  and that platform provided on a site designed as a marketing tool is on the only one that matters.

To me, the biggest question of all is, if you don’t participate on Facebook do you cease to be relevant, will you disappear, will what you say matter, will anyone know YOU ARE THERE?

RDP Monday: NOTE

Go Out And Look


I’ve just finished a biography about  Giordano Bruno  by Ingrid D. Rowland

Giordano was a friar, a writer, a poet and Bruno believed that the Universe was infinite at a time when the understanding of the Universe was somewhat sketchy and that sketchy view was the accepted view.

Giordano studied and contemplated and wrote papers and poetry about the Universe and the Earth and God- and at the point he actually went out into the world and experienced it- the good and the very worst that humanity had to offer- Bruno had been  willing to accept it as it was as it was.

It happened that after studying  with other well heeled young men who were sent to be schooled in a religious order in Philosophy and religion, and law some of his fellow students ended up with keys to the tavern next door and apparently did  they not only carry weapons they carried on with the local ladies too.

Maybe it was at this point Bruno began to realize that people and the world were bigger and less easy to define then he may have concluded.

It took some time but eventually Bruno made the leap from observing the world to participating in it because it was no longer fine and acceptable as it was.

In the end Bruno was burned as a heretic because one of the charges leveled at him was that he did not believe that the bread and wine he took at communion was actually flesh and blood.

An institution demanded blind obedience from him- if he was told that wine was blood and bread was flesh, that’s what you saw and that’s what you tasted and to deny that was to deny God.  End of story. Full stop.

The tragedy was, Bruno was a man of faith and he did see God in all things. It’s just that what he saw was different from the accepted vision.

Now days we are being told that we need to deny what our own eyes see and that unless we see the common accepted vision we are ” Libtards ” or “Uppity “. We are  silly ignorant dupes that have been conned by Scientists and Professors and Teachers.

The common vision being put forth where I live  dictates absolute obedience to a dream world spun into existence by a man and his followers who treat  people who are different from their shared fantasy  as obstacles that they must subjugate in order to have their more perfect union.

So I can rage against this- and I have.  I can back a candidate to the hilt for President and hope for the best. I can keep up with current events.

Or I can do what I have been doing.

I read, I listen to music, I enjoy art and I write. I have been doing that more then I ever because I want to remember that there are good things in this world  and these things deserve my time and attention.

I’m not ignoring that the world is an ugly, vicious place. I will not deny that I have severed friendships with a sense of malicious pleasure because I have zero inclination to ‘listen to the other side.”

Like  Bruno I have come to a time in my life when accepting and working with the world with patience and understanding as it is,  is no longer acceptable to me.

I’ve made that decision because “listening to the other side”  will only work when you’re serious about learning something new with respect and a sense of decorum or you are passionate about becoming enlightened about a topic and frankly, I’m not seeing any of that in the ‘conversations’ people want to have with me.

So why did I chose the picture at the top of this piece? This silly picture of UFO and  Bigfoot riding the Lochness Monster as he apparently flips off the photographer?

I chose it because  the Universe is an infinite place and within that infinite space anything is possible and unless you stay flexible to that reality it’s not going to be a happy place for you.

If you’re going to demand the Universe bend to your will in a predictable way-through politics or crystals or herbs or religion, I’m sure it’s not going to work.

My view is most certainly  not based science, but I think that is how we all got to this cage we are in now.

amm

RDP Friday: FORECAST

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Endearing Bones

A lover’s quarrel is happening under my skin

my bones are fighting with each other again.

They grind and grate they get on each other’s nerves

they yell obscenities  at my muscles when they ask, ” Hey dudes seriously,  what’s up?”

 

“You aren’t working  with us, you aren’t working for her

all you do is snap, crackle and pop like a bowl of kid’s cereal.”

 

My bones won’t justify that with a reply

they’re caught in their own world

they don’t care what anyone says.

 

They’ll stay together forever

they don’t really know why

even though

it’s a grind, it ‘s a pain

being locked together

like this

under my skin.

 

 

RDP Tuesday: crepitus