the last roadtrip haiku(s):
so grateful beyond
words that won’t capture it all
anyway: aspen.
immediately,
upon arrival, our breath
dissolves to vapor.
it’s soaring mountains,
exquisite moments, beloveds,
so much. gratitude.
read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY
GRATEFUL from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood
another haiku day:
now she is up close,
and yet such independence.
two – always entwined.
her heart expands out;
my heart takes her all in, love
unconditional.
she will soar freely
as an eagle untethered
and rooted in love.
her wings will catch air,
her soul will find much wisdom:
grounded and high flight.
my daughter: sublime.
always loved. motherhood is:
never easy. best.
read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY
view this painting MOTHER-DAUGHTER on david’s gallery site
MOTHER-DAUGHTER ©️ 2019 david robinson
continued vacation haiku (a triple):
i can scarcely say
what it means to gather there:
the magic moments.
my mind struggles to
keep it forefront, remembered.
i lose it in time,
yet never misprize.
it’s the stuff of real heart. life
lived in moments. love.
read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY
a double haiku:
even in the midst
of coronavirus fear
this earth speaks to me.
dirt beneath our feet
embraced by walls of red rock.
it’s beating my heart.
read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY
a double-haiku for today:
out big red’s window
places we pass. to loved ones’.
earth’s gifts on the way.
rumble strips stir us,
“look closer.” setting light: light.
our hearts begin to rise.
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MEANDER from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood
a haiku for today:
forward back. it seems
to never stop ping-ponging.
we’re all now reeling.
visit DAVID’S painting FORWARD BACK here
FORWARD BACK ©️ 2012 david robinson
“who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? only the shadow knows.”
back in middle school we had to choose a radio show and emulate it by creating a new episode, complete with commercials. we chose “the shadow” and had a commercial that was for a toothpaste-like substance that could clean your floors, strip paint and brush your teeth simultaneously. it was a product clearly not endorsed by any brand-under-the-sun, but, as seventh-graders with gigantic imaginations, we had fun conceptualizing.
and so, we wrote a script for a new “the shadow” radio show (based on many episodes we listened to) and recorded it on cassette tape along with our brilliant ad campaign.
“the shadow knows,” we murmured to each other, at random times for days and days and, with middle-school-predictability, ad nauseam, followed by a wicked laugh.
david and i often photograph our shadows, as puppets in the sun. on beaches, on hiking trails, in rivers, on mountains, in the backyard, we stop, in the line of sunshine, and take a shot, sometimes deliberately posing for the picture.
in this time, with shadows lurking in every light and dark corner, we chose to make the sign of peace.
for there is presently too much evil lurking in the hearts of men these days and we cannot rely on ‘the shadow’ getting us out of this. the wicked laugh that accompanied these words of introduction chilled us back in the day. now we can hear that wicked laugh echoing in our mind’s eye. and the words of this radio show’s early days – “as you sow evil, so shall you reap evil!” – are, today, vexing and worrisome.
who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? the shadow – and their consciences – know.
so now what? this is not a middle school script. where do we go from here?
read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY
were there nothing else to do, no other responsibilities, no outstanding work or chores, no cleaning or laundry or errands, no bills to pay, calls to make, jobs to seek, piles to clear, messes to sort, i could sit and stare at a fire for hours.
it’s easier to evade the thoughts that permeate your worried mind with the heat of fire on your face. it’s easier to stop strategizing around, through, beyond while watching the dance of contained flames. it’s easier to be lulled into all-is-well thinking, sinking into the adirondack chair, moonlight on your brow.
ephemeral moments – the good ones and the bad ones – slip by, each temporary, each a transitory arc, evaporating, evaporating.
yet, our eagle-focus on certain moments, certain actions, certain words, certain emotions, batters us with living, re-living, re-living, re-living.
we obsess. and in a time when there is so much to obsess about, it is none too easy to avoid.
the fire burns through the wood, despite its flammability. it does not choose only wood that is most flammable. with all the different wood in the firepit, it ignites, turning all into ash, intangible and evanescent.
we might do well to toss moments these days into a great cauldron, touch a match to it and light it. perhaps out of that might arise a bit of wisdom, a bit of certainty in the uncertainty, a bit of comfort. maybe living in the recognition it will vaporize would remind us of transience, the impermanence of it all, the pro tempore of any given heated moment, ultimately, the importance of lingering in any goodness we experience, of actually being goodness.
perhaps we should prioritize staring at the firepit. it may serve as a gentle reminder.
in the middle the fire is hot. in the end ash will be ash.
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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY
TRANSIENCE from RIGHT NOW ©️ 2010 kerri sherwood
the crows have been barking in our backyard lately. they sit high in the trees and take turns flying to prime spots, cawing and letting all other crows know that there is an invader, an intruder, something with ill intent in the area.
the hawk has been hanging out in our backyard lately. he sits high in the trees or on the neighbor’s swingset or on our chainlink fence and every so often swoops down to fetch something mysterious and unseen off the ground.
the crows do not like the hawk and make it known. oftentimes, they gather together, mobbing, protests in-beak, and chase the hawk off. although not in harmony, it is a symbiotic relationship, predation, this hawk-crow living arrangement. the crows recognize that the hawk is a predator. they do not nuance the behavior of the hawk nor do they make excuses. they have no illusions and their task is clear – to drive him out of their territory.
crows, dealing with predation of hawks and owls, do not get to just live peacefully flying about, building nests, laying eggs, raising their young, making trips to the local walmart.
instead, in examples of symbiotic parasitism, parasitic birds prey on crows and other birds, laying foreign eggs in their nests, removing the host’s eggs. these eggs often hatch sooner than those of the crows, taking over the nest. fantasies of elitism, selectionism and superiority surely brew in their agenda-driven actions.
about 100 different brood parasites show up as a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” attempting to fool various host birds, lay eggs in others’ nests, avoid the work and, eventually, reap the benefits as the newly hatched offspring kill off the siblings in the nest. it is “survival of the fittest”. some hosts recognize the wolf in their nest and fling them out, but this is not a common defense mechanism. brood parasites have evolved for long term. and crows and other hosts need be savvy enough to still survive, nonetheless.
as the crows mob in the tall oak tree behind us and begin cawing i think that we, too, must be noisy.
for there is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, set on long term survival, ruthless and predatory, parasitic and dangerous. do not nuance the wolf’s behavior. do not make excuses. have no illusions. be clear. recognize that it has ill intent, fantasies of elitism, selectionism and superiority, and must be driven out.
start barking.
read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY
visit DAVID’S virtual gallery online
“there are 100 ways you could have said that,” he would say. yep. probably more than 100. somehow you have to have your intellect, emotions, sensitivity all line up in perfect harmony so that what actually comes out of your mouth might be a teensy bit worthy, attentive to the moment. we all know this is not an easy thing. it is far easier to react, to scoff at sensitivity, to employ little to no brainpower, to not check your emotions, to not rein in your anger, your wrath, indeed, your rage. yes, it is far easier to spew.
and spewing has become the haute couture of communicating, the cape of the superhero of speak. instead of being gauche, it has become cheered, jollied on, mimicked. we have sunk down low, low, low.
somewhere between engaging your mouth – somewhere between start and stop – there must be a filter, heck, multiple filters. instead of the arrogant stance, the ready-go of putting someone in their place or pushing them down under the waves, the offensive weaving of untruths, the rotisserie of steroid-injected pretend-it-happened stories, perhaps there might be subtle moments of consideration. perhaps there might be the pause of checking-your-reactionary-self minutes where you attempt to take into consideration the other’s shoes and walking in them. perhaps, even more so, though quite a stretch, there might be … empathy.
but this is not a time that empathy is in vogue. this is not a time that trying to understand another’s point of view is fashionable. this is not a time that measuring your words and being mindful is favored. instead, this is a time that the space between start and stop is not infinitetismal.
this space – between start and stop – is, instead, of giant proportions. it is a space not measured by integrity or kindness. it is not thoughtful or contemplative or introspective. it is instead consumed with preoccupation of self, with selfish, unsympathetic agenda-driven drivel. it does not consider the other 100 ways. it races to the satisfied finish, like a green racehorse out of the gate, with no even gait and no finesse. there is no stop, no pause. it gallops without forethought, without watching where it is going. it is spewing.
saddle up. we all deserve better.
read DAVID’S thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY
reverse threading 