Showing posts with label Reservoir. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reservoir. Show all posts

Monday, May 7, 2018

A Newly Forged Flower

I stumbled a little
I turned around
 I almost tripped
 On UpsideDown!

Newly Forged Upside Down flower by the South Reservoir blockhouse, Central Park

Monday, April 3, 2017

Brave Buds

Sweet green bud wrapped tight as a new umbrella
sneaking out from winter covers
betting its life on another spring.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Apple Harvest Time Along the Reservoir

I was stuck on a limb on the upper east side,
I haven't a clue how I got there!
I was hungry and cold and I needed a nap,
I was lonely and full of despair.
I was inching along in the best way I could, but
I haven't got feet, and I slipped on the wood!
I am fortunate, though,
I fell onto this hole! So,
I ate and I ate, and I'm gaining some weight,
I am warm, I feel great, all I need is a mate!
I am ready nourish my soul!

Along the East Side of the Reservoir, Central Park

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

The Power of a Silhouette

Feel your toes grip the wet sand
Inhale the Ocean
The gulls are playing.


Mission for the Day

1. In today's travels, isolate a small silhouette .  (it should be a ways away, or we can be grabbed by the   nearest 'Q'. )

2. Pause awhile, and let a blessed, unused memory flood your senses. 

3. Breathe deeply.

4. Smile.

Monday, July 25, 2016

The Gold of Life

What will happen to my soul when you are gone?
Will I tack it to a wall in a makeshift frame?

Reservoir, late evening in July

Monday, April 4, 2016

A blossom covered day


 Is that the same dull winter sparrow
bursting with life like a happy bud?
Is that me, with clumps of spirit blossoms resting in my hand?
Me, with a new leaf painted in my soul?

Reservoir April 2016

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Yoshino Cherry Trees Blooming

Spring in New York is the most beautiful time! These beautiful blossoms are from the original Yoshino Cherry trees, a gift from Japan in 1912.+


Thursday, March 13, 2014

Stalking the Waters of Life

Stalking the waters of life,
I tromped across the sea grass.
Stickers everywhere!
Foot by foot, squishing indentations
into the wet sea-weeded sand.
My soul is hurting for a kindred spirit,
I am seeking for a shimmer through my heart,
I am seeking an annuity of memories,
I am catching at life with a pole and a lure.
How do I trust these flutter things?
this glimpse without a substance,
these unborn wishes riding in,
pulsing, panting, pulling at the reins.
And there it is! The surf at last, pounding,
pushing into the grass-riddled dunes.

From the Southern Pump Station Block House, Central Park Reservoir

SEARCH UP AND DOWN FOR AN ICE-FLOW (Iced over puddles count!)
IF NOT, WELL, ADD SOMETHING! (a leaf, a stem, a pebble, a small pet).

Monday, March 10, 2014

Tipsy Rail Walker on Jogging Path

Amazing rail-walker survives jogging path trek without a single spot of mud on new shoes. 

Eastside Reservoir jogging path

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Days End

Day filled with crystal windows,
Double sided shadows,
Bark wet from melting snow,
Sap sneaking up the roots, waiting for a headstart incidental chance,
Blossoms barely aware of themselves.
It was the sunniest day.

Dark travels, rolling across the empty highways,
Sidling up to the day,
Muddling up the after effects,
Settling up the score.


Friday, January 17, 2014

Friday, December 20, 2013

A New Dawn

It was just yesterday
the skies were coddled grey,
clotting in their pre-snow situation,
waiting, waiting, maybe for dawn,
with a new messenger at the gate.

20101003-Copy of Oct  2 056.jpg

Monday, October 14, 2013

On the Nature of Conflict Resolution

Anger sets the mind on fire,
Dragging hot coals along the breast bone, searching for kindling,
searching for a light to spark the white hot fuse.
stabbing, searing, driving rage with icy calm,
shooting bitter shrapnel, tempering the smitten soul,
slicing through the broken worn out spirit,
pulling the roots apart, exposing again a breaking heart,
still striving reaching, craving for a sun,
craving soil that isn’t caked with dead dry muddy quicksand,
spiraling spinning, spitting, banging thumpity
thumpity thump, thump, thump, thump
There is no rhythm to it anymore!
No inside shell, no place to go to ground.
Nothing but an inside war torn up with foxholes,
injured and shredded like a grated thing.
How can a few remaining decades mend our very substance?
Can I re-enter life again, with such a damaged heart?
Oh gentle hope, I see you creeping in among the shadows!


Sunday, May 19, 2013

Canada Goose

Canada Goose Grooming at the Reservoir

Reservoir Goose 20130514-DSC_2975.jpg
Resting near the North Reservoir, Central Park

Catbird Singing in the Wind

I know the way to smudge the situation,
the way to gloss over the circumstances,
to ink in the shadow lands,
to covet the rainbow in the tail end of things.

Watch for the dusty splatters left by rain,
the shriveled blossoms hanging on,
after death has pinched them
out of the picture.

Grab that scenic trail along the rainbow edges
Taste the moment when the thin wire cuts through the lines.
I hear you focused in the wind,
your frequencies are stubbing out the distances.

Stretch out the small, the almost never was,
Flatten out the instant hieroglyphic,
Sort through the serifs and the forky trampled things--
I know the truth,
I hear it in the wireless wind.


Friday, February 15, 2013

Jogger Unaware

Jogger unaware he is falling off the edge of the earth

Central Park Reservoir

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Ice Blue Dreams

Ice-crusted wind whistling through the canyons
snarling into corners, snuffling up to the window panes.
Brown sugar frozen on the ginger bread houses
daydreams cringing at the Grimm realities
lost among the dead ends of the mind.

Day cracks open, crunching, pounding,
dressed in winter blue.
Oh, what a Blue!
Shall I take that crystal daylight bait?
Why risk that wrenching heartache one more time?
Why not harken back to childish satisfactions?

I am a lake fish trapped and flapping under frozen water.
Free me! I am in a small space too young to die.
Or am I creeping paw by paw above the fragile ice
that holds me up from freezing?
Inside out and upside down
I trace my way along the membranes of reality.

Central Park, Post Nemo

Friday, January 18, 2013

Taking the Second Chance

There’s a time that comes every once in a while,
I know about it; I’ve seen it before, and I bet you know it as well--
that scape without a sea or a land to anchor its astral position.

I heard it said the other day,
that intellect and feeling live in separate domains,
and yet now and then a remnant escapes
from the past  to rattle today.

I know a brainstorm comes now and then,
but who cares, and so what? It's polite as can be,
It knocks before it comes in!
But an emotional scrap, now that does distract!
It mews and it pants with a wish and a bounce,
dribbling, careening, and trouncing
right over our sane conversation!

It was then that I knew how I longed for that day, 
the one that I thought I had lost..
A crumpled up day tossed away in the rain,
a puddle I barely remember.

What happens then, when you watch the same scape
 a hundred times over again,
without  land or a sea or a shore that remains

of our permanent link in that destiny chain.
Central Park Reservoir

Thursday, July 5, 2012


When there’s only a streak or two left from the settling sun,
when only dusk and grain remain from the contrasting blue,
then dark green shadows burrow into the soul,
where even love escapes from destiny