cloud churning to make soundsuggested listening, above: Please Forgive Me (David Gray)
cloud
churning
......to make sound.
< Near Lower Mapledale, Along the Kickapoo River >
impermanence is upon us
at each moment
ponder this change
and when you return
everything has...
though ceaseless there is
aberrancy...
listen for song
and she appears
in the magnetic terrain
in the skate of cloud passing
the tremolo of my imperfect voice
and the flame guiding a warrior's choice
This time, we sat on the dim back porch. She lazily let her head cast backwards over the deck chair. small clouds hurried by, as if late for an appointment or perhaps dinner... they stood in contrast to the dark lavender sky... strange to a kid from the back roads of Wisconsin... clouds lit from ground by a beaming and powerful city, like Chicago.
It reminded me of the reflected waves of sunlight on the rocky undersurface on the Kickapoo River (see picture at the top).
< clouds whiz by, like ocean under sail>
< "V">
< porch chairs in Chicago>
< comfort under late Fall >
As they continue to move and roll, burp, twist, and morph she says sweetly, "this cloud will only be seen once, just the way it is now..."
Each second of our lives is a singular event, never to reappear.
Soon the illuminated puffs of atmosphere came to resemble the clouds reflected off the calm ocean, sailing Pacific wind, gazing into the ocean mirror rushing by.
within the turbulence of our world is a center of peace that signals across the bay...
calling you home.
within the randomness and unknown of our lives, we can always find points of illumination... nudges from the shared love, that forms the divine and the eternal.
clouds only once seen...
Yet similarity, simile, serene
passing ocean under sail
reelected sky due north,
near lower Mapledale
like watching
fast moving dragon-cloud,
upside-down chi-town gown
everywhere all the time
our reality, like the cloud,
a passing,
fading rhyme
never seen
that way
the same again
yet still sameness...
Chaos and the
fibrils of honey in hurricane of doubt,
lover about to pout
in balanced grandeur
from point particle to
end of the cosmos fuss
intricate soul of us
self similarity
at any stop or station
any jar of time's
hardened gears,
fearful nations
summer childhood spheres.
the illusion of sky
touching ground
just like
our love
to cloud
churning
......to make sound.
Purple Basil
Wednesday night
Our friend's Benefit Party
Berwyn, Illinois VFW
(she's ill and can't work right now)
My day started on the west-side of Chicago, as it often does. Tonight was not work, like usual, but band practice, (not band camp) with the band I play with (when they let me).
We picked up the Kevin, the lead guitarist at his west-side condo, then stopped at a lone liquor store nearby...
For those not familiar with Chicago... the West-side, where I work at a trauma center, is one of the most violent, desperate places on Earth.... neglected ghetto, concentrated poverty and hopelessness... (perhaps planned by those in dominance??)
the West-side seemed gloomy, foreboding, and intimidating for some reason this night.
Later, we hit another liquor store, on Western, to pick up a keg we promised to get for the party.
< Practice Space Corridor>
At the practice space, an imposing old factory, we got through four songs before it was time for our engagement in Berwyn.
< Practice Building Old Water Tower >
There was the obligatory near-violent argument over old issues, a few laughs and a few moments of utter groove between the three of us.
I realized how much I love to play with these guys, despite our inexplicable propensity to fall towards ego and primal fury.
::: :::
The Party
my Friend from Canada asked me to describe the party, using three adjectives:
I replied,
eclectic
fascinating
unresolved
it was an fun, sometimes awkward mix of co-workers (techs, doctors, nurses, clerical, etc), many friends, students, residents, Chicago cops, paramedics, and firefighters, and a funky assortment of others.
Yet another singular moment in the eternal path of time and space.
The benefactor felt healed by the outpouring of love. She announced, "everyday is a new day for me".
< Jello Shots >
Do you celebrate... or cry at an event like this...
Just do what the Guest of Honor does...
she did both.
This looks bad, but it was innocent
I was a bit tipsy on Jello shot
the ones that tasted like Aqua Velva were memorably poisonous.
 
I held the camera in my outstretched hand for these
Berwyn, IL VFW
< Cynthia in Gown>
< Agnes Tends Bar >
< Assortment of West-siders>
< at Phylis' Request>
 
I spent the remainder of the evening with the Girl from Canada
A return from the wild West-side surreal
to skyscrapers, Starbucks, and upscale White Hens
Had an amazing fresh made 3 cheese sandwich, with spicy Dijon mustards and hot peppers, with a side of ginseng. These nice ladies made the delicacy...
 
<Playboy Building in two moments>
For the second time, we walked empty Chicago streets. It amazed me how even this magnificent beast lies down, if not for a hour...
4:00am
< Streeterville Devoid>
I was allegedly fearful of being mugged
(I now deny this )
< Removing this Week's Debris>
< Breaking the Law>
< Emerald path to molten gold>
I had lunch here...
Brett's Cafe on Franklin
Burger, fries and a Coke.
nearby...
< Moving Components of Structure & Power>
strange alley I passed by
< Street Art Enlightenment>
cloud
churning
......to make sound.
tony
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