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

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Ounce Takes A Bath

Ounce has developed a Characteristic that is not altogether happy.  Ounce does not like to share.

We know already how much Ounce Loves water.  But look how the entire bathbowl is, in the opinion of Ounce, reserved for sole occupancy.  Of course Ounce finaly gives up and flees!

Our amazing photo-journalist has captured this revealing video.  Click the play arrow, and then click the squarish thing on the bottom right of the video for Full Screen! 

Don't forget to come back....


If all else fails, click on the link below

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

The Pigeon Chronicles

The Pidgeon Chronicles, Missive IV

Perhaps you missed missives I-III, I know I did [See Footnote].

Nevertheless, I am here to report I have suffered enough!

As an Urban Volunteer, I embarked on my annual Tree Bed planting obligation, and I completed my task 11 days ago:

  1. Plant shade-adoring impatiens: Done!
  2. Plant with a growing moon: Done!
  3. Plant in loose soil: Done!
  4. Water and fertilize well: Done!
  5. Plant 6 inches apart: Done!

By now there should be happy buds and a few new blooms. But No! I have simply watched the existing blossoms wane away with the waxing moon.

Well!Later that same afternoon I discovered  Pigeon sitting on one impatiens and nibbling on another.

Stricken, I yelled and shooed. Pigeon moved a few inches. I flapped and waved, and that Very Pigeon hopped to my next tree bed over! I ran indoors to notify the Pigeon Police, but by the time they arrived with the net, that Very Pigeon was gone.

Well, this happened three times in a row, and now the Pigeon Police will not even answer their cell. I mean, I am not crying Wolf! And I am not crying Pigeon! I need some simple help!

Desperately in need of rest and solace,
Your Urban Volunteer

[Footnote] You may locate one or more of these missives in the PidgeonParallax archives. These are particularly useful if you have several conflicting views of a pigeon.
That Very Pigeon, hiding from the Pigeon Police ( near the river )
Beautiful Tree Bed

Thursday, May 19, 2016

A bubblegum World

Time shattered that day, when I saw through a crack,
another teaming, seething, crystal world,
(I was stuck on my usual side)

It was a  bubblegum world, with grassy places,
trees awake with new leaves,
old limbs fading with the death of winter,

There’s a beauty!  Boughs swinging in the windy sun,
searching for a new spring nest.   


Wednesday, April 27, 2016

A Puddle full of Petals

I was skidding through another concrete day
Shoes hitting hard against the sidewalk grey
Sharp shards snapping at the stopped up drain
White sun spitting at a window pane
Background rattle of a subway train.

Then I turned the corner and astonishingly
I see the floating remnants of a cherry tree.


Monday, April 4, 2016

5th Avenue Draped in Spring Mist

The day before rain

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

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

On Making Deliveries in Snow

Jiggity, Jaggity Jergety,  hoo!
I’m bringing a pizza to you, to you.
There’s ice, there’s snow
No safe place to go
I’m lost in the fog
I’m stuck with this job
I’m trapped out at night
I’m getting frost-bite
I’m ready to sob
I’m too old for this job!!

The pizza is cold.

You’ll have to be told 
You’ll have nothing to eat
I can’t find your street!
I just want to go back to Peru, Peru
I want to go back to Peru!

pizza snow

Monday, January 25, 2016

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Discovering a Different Fall

I wander through the apple shadows, stepping into the secret garden
Fall chrysanthemums are stiff with color
Grasses are drying their stalks for winter
Is that an orangy goldfish there or a patched up dappled catfish?
Either way, I let it sink amid the leaves and lilies.
I close my eyes and feel a quiet melting in my frozen solar plexus
I may have dozed, I'm never sure
A puddle full of splashing sparrows wakes me up.

There's something familiar about that tweet!

“Ounce?” "Ounce!"
“You’re wet and cold! you’ll catch a chill!"
Come here!“

I don’t know what made me scold that way
It’s just I miss Ounce so and didn’t even know it.
Embarrassed by my burst, I try to slink away, when
I feel a small wet weight upon my shoulder --

“Ouch! You bit me!"

Before I can move a retaliatory inch
Ounce settles down for a soggy shoulder nap, and
There isn’t anything else to do
Except to take a leafy walk in the golden speckled afternoon.


Sunday, November 15, 2015

The Myth of the stranded wheel

It was one of those delicious days when the sun lit up the soul. I was skipping along on my favorite path, when I chanced upon a something in the road before me. So of course I stopped to make sure it wasn’t an endangered species.

Well! One poke  told me I should be wary. I heard a sharp squeaky growl and felt a nip on my toe. I knew then it had to be an omen; you do not get stopped with a nip on the road for no reason at all. Growl wobbled over to the edge of the path, and of course I had to follow.

We were at a clearing in the underbrush guarded by a low pile of nature-hewn rocks. I reached down to carry Growl, who gave me a parting nip on the finger and disappeared in a tiny whoosh. Nevertheless, I picked my way over the rocky pile and fell into a divided world. I wanted to go right with all my might, where the colors were tipped and burnished with life, yet there I was inexorably heading towards the left-most shadow lands.

Deeper and deeper I journeyed, and there in the darkest shadow, I saw two lighter circles. I was pinned to the spot with trepidatio.  I crept up closer, and they blinked! Almost at once I heard the low vibrations of a voice.

“What you are carrying with you?” said this dark grey sort of horse like thing with eyes.
“Well I… I do have a canteen and that old sketch of a water wheel I always carry for no reason at all,” I said.
“Let me see it,” said Grey.
Transfixed by a blink, I pulled it out of my pocket. Grey trotted closer and sniffed it carefully.

“This is not a water wheel my lady,” said Grey. “This is what we have been searching for! This is the living map of the Magic Wheel of Fortune. We cannot find it, because it isn’t seeable. It is invisible without a beating heart and a map.”

 I turned over the sketch, and I began to see the silver strands of a map emerge from the darkened paper.

Side by side we walked into the unlit forest, and there it was! That very wheel,  tied down by earthy vines and stuck in the moss of time. Grey whispered close to my ear. “We too are lashed and bound to this accidental destiny. We are trapped without the turn of the wheel.”

I looked up into the huge stone rim where the map now pointed. There I saw a jagged hole and what a size it was!

“You are the bearer of the map, My Lady,” said Grey. “The magic wheel is injured, and it must feel the beat of your heart to heal.”
“But If I set it free it will crush me before I can escape! Besides, I cannot reach it,” I whined.
“I will help you," said Grey. “You can climb on my back and grab hold of a spoke.”
“But you will be crushed as well!”
“Perhaps I can run faster than you,” said Grey.

The thing is, I was afraid. I leaned against Grey’s flank, and I thought I would cry: but then I just got on.

Slowly we edged closer until Grey came to a halt directly below the deadly rim. I stood up carefully, and tried to grab a spoke, but I stumbled! Grasping for a hand hold, I touched the edge of the jagged hole, and in an instant it sucked me up and tore me away from Grey.
“Help me!” I cried, dangling over the fetid swamp. 

And then I felt the slow rumble and thud of a pulse.

It was alive! Struck dumb in its pounding grip, I felt the wheel begin to turn.
“Help! Help me! Let me go!” I wailed, and my hand begin to slip away.  Down I fell into the swampy ground beneath the wheel.

I made my peace with life as best I could and closed my eyes. I felt my life pull out of me as if  it was yanked from the center of my chest. I took a final look at this forlorn Earthly swamp and bid the world farewell.  I was startled then by a whooshy growl, and I began to feel the soft touch of a muzzle against my cheek. I lifted up my head and there was Grey, holding the center of my sweater in his teeth.

We watched together as Magic Wheel began to lift, snapping away the moss and clinging vines. It  was glowing now from an inner light and carved with animals and runes, olives and sheep, red apples, wheat, and weighing scales. Up she flew, already weaving and spinning fortunes, leaving peace to fill the empty places. 


Thursday, September 10, 2015

A Fountain Full of Fractals

Fractals! They’re those never-ending patterns that “display self-similarity…in all scales”. In mathematics, a self-similar object is exactly or approximately similar to a part of itself.*

Is there no rest for the self-centered? Do you want to know how to be a fractal? Just do the same stupid thing over and over!

And this rainbow we are talking about.
There is the very same self-similar rainbow in each tiny droplet and packet of drops and fountain of drops! And there you have the essence of it; the soul of it if you will. The rainbow, in fact,
 is immortal.

Do you remember how to discover a rainbow? First locate body of water (a dew drop will do). Position yourself between the drop and the sun, and sooner or later there it will be. Of course it’s been there all along. A soul waiting for the right circumstances.

Fractal Fountain in the Italian Garden of the Conservancy; Central Park

*Somewhere on the web…

Monday, September 7, 2015

The Secret Mourning Dove

Mourning Dove rests at evening in the Secret Garden sparrow pool

Mourning Dove in Secret Garden

Saturday, September 5, 2015

A Popsickle Day

Once upon a time, long before now,
When the grass was as green as a lollypop~
Off we went down the sidewalk edge,
looking for a piece of eternity.

It was a popsicle day,
With trees saturated in summer~
Sidewalks so hot you needed shoes,
You could fry an egg if you wanted, they said.

We were warned of course, about crossing the street,
We were threatened, coerced and cautioned~
Of course we crossed it anyway,
As we scattered away that diamond day.


Saturday, August 29, 2015

Fall Day

Off to school with sharpened promises.
Seeking a simple space reserved for me.
Oh how I wished and waited, loved and prayed.
May I have a pleasant dream, a morning full of breezes?
Now and then a glance my way, shooting light through a hidden shard.
How I wanted to pursue you--
Where was that spark inside my soul,
Whispering through the painted leaves--
“I love you”
“You can count on me”


Thursday, August 6, 2015

Cafe Sabarsky in the Neue Museum, New York City

Happy Slightly Blurry August morning at Sabarskies.



Sunday, August 2, 2015


Screeching back into the moment
I spot a leaf against my window pane,
an ivy sprig caught behind the window box,
stained glass catching sunbeams,
(Well, it isn't really glass
but it captures colors just the same)

View from Living Room...

Monday, July 27, 2015

The Mending Way

Wake up! The day comes up anyway
the same old cracked-up dawn.
Same concrete against the stumpy flowers
dry as summer.
What happened to all the maybes,
All those forks to choose from?

Fork one fork two; one-a-fork two-a-fork

The trouble is, we resonate with beauty,
Seeking the mending way
I have a certain feeling in the bone.
It came on cell by cell,
raising me up a half an inch
at a time.

United Nations ~ November 2014

Monday, July 13, 2015

The Poetry Of Life

Let the plant wither if it must, the seed fell days ago;
Stuck in a pod, half blind, trapped in a cold puddle,
Like some muddied, pock-marked, leftover snowball.
Too dismal to throw.
I have nothing to do but hibernate.
What am I some kind of iced-over, frost bitten hedgehog?

I’m shrinking! 
How can this be with all these trickles?
I’m down to a husk of a thing, rattling around like some blind-sided snail.
I’m dying out here!
Or  maybe drying; at least things are improving,
I mean how can I do anything about it?

I’ve been crunched by a rabid runner and stuffed into a furrow!
I think I’ll cry...yes...
Wait a minute, what is that streaming stuff?
Is it dirt?  Is it Sun?  Is it Rain?
I’m growing! 
Help! I’m being resurrected!











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