Memories

Conch/Bug shadow

Memories give us amnesia
about what we could know:
spooks telling truths
in cunningly coy
closed, secret sessions.

They wrap us in myths,
conjuring dreamy, alluring
vapid mirages
                         which may guide us-
                         beguiling as
                         stars in the distance
while receding further, further
as we approach.

Memories shatter moments
of fragile truth, (unwillingly)
drawing us
irresistibly, to their
tinseled cocoons.

They corrode love’s
fresh childish rapture with
sugar and rust
syrup and dust.

Memories lock us in
windowless rooms
as we stare longingly at
faded, curling photographs
of the way
we once wished
we once dreamed
we might have been,
but may never know-
for haunted oldness coats
new moments like thick, black grease.

Now forget all this
and peel open your heart.

I wasn’t too happy when I wrote this. I had been rejected by a long term lover. But it has a certain bitter truth to it about clinging to the past.

Trance Mix: Bird Songs, Clarinet, Rhythm, Late Night Mood

For what it’s worth, there are 15 tracks mixed here. 1 clarinetist improvising to repeated Robin calls, American Robin quarter speed, White Crowned Sparrow, Carolina Chickadee, Acorns dropping on my roof. Sooty Shearwater bird calls, Japanese Winter Wren, and Sage Thrasher at 64 and 128 slowed down speeds. Enjoy!

[audio:https://glitteringmuse.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/TRANCE.mp3|titles=TRANCE]

Cicada Flower Quilt

Pulsing Cicadas emboss Sunflowers
Trapunto, over dusty
tired ivies
Helios’ Chariot chars
burgundy Dahlias
unraveling their light.
Pastel Hibiscus wilt beyond
bleached Rose.
Stiff reefs of electric
Globe Thistle lap by
parched grasses.
Geranium beams
roast Baby’s Breath
Foxglove, Echinacea
While molten smoldering Petunias
pierce through, over and over.

Hummingbird by Wilco

Hummingbird by Wilco (Jeff Tweedy songwriter)

his goal in life was to be an echo
riding alone, town after town, toll after toll
a fixed bayonet through the great southwest
to forget her
she appears
in his dreams
but in his car, and in his arms
a dream could mean anything
a cheap sunset on a television set could upset her
but he never could
remember to remember me
standing still in your past
floating fast like a hummingbird
his goal in life was to be an echo
the type of sound that floats around
and then back down like a feather
but in the deep chrome canyons of the loudest Manhattans
no one could hear him
or anything
so he slept, on a mountain
in a sleeping bag underneath the stars,
he would lie awake and count them
but the great fountain spray of the great Milky Way
would never let him
die alone
remember to remember me
standing still in your past
floating fast like a hummingbird
remember to remember me
standing still in your past
floating fast like a hummingbird
a hummingbird
a hummingbird