400.  Past

Personal

A basic flaw in my foundation

Recently, I realized a basic flaw in my foundation that has held me back and has been very difficult to overcome.  It's ingrained in my physiology and mentality.  In my early life, I was not able to experience living in a normal way.  I could not let in “life itself,” nor experience, absorb and grow from it.  Yes, it was parent based.  My asthma was a physical manifestation of my condition.  Breathing itself was labored, shut down so to speak.  Normal exposure to plants and animals caused problems.  All this was partially due to living in tension much of the time.  Growth became thwarted and twisted. 

So, if one can't be near plants and animals in a normal way which is part of life itself, how can one participate and learn in a healthy manner?  Experience itself is cut off, and learning from day to day living and academically is thwarted.  The learning process, which includes discovery and wonderment, is truncated.

My art is a reflection of this.  Not enough life was let in, both from observation and learning and practice.  Too much time was spent in my head, removed from experience.  As such there is a tendency to get caught up with concepts and ideas because the interaction with life itself had been tampered with.

So this is my explanation to explain my limitations in participating in life and difficulties I've had with my art.  Still, it is not a total death sentence. A humble attitude towards what happened can lead to healing.  Observing the suffering itself and being aware are the tools to turn things around.  And then, of course, one can always appeal to the 'above' and that might help.

391.  Past
(These older poems vary in refinement and are longer and rawer, like the drawings from that period.  They can express pain and confusion with little attempt to cover it up.  It's the way things sometimes are and here they are expressed directly with little or no padding inbetween.)

Dream

As a kid there were dreams where I fell,  
or was running from something or someone. 
Sometimes I was flying across a room,  
even above others on a basketball court,  
as if I had some special power
which seemed very real to me.   
      
There was a time when I didn’t sleep well,  
and dreams were not had.    
Daytime and nighttime merged    
on the same anxious level,    
never fully awake, never fully asleep  
the anxiety, worry and fear     
with me all the day.     
       
There was also a time when I slept too heavily 
as if drugged.      
Sleep was not the problem, being awake was.
The day was like a continuous nightmare,
and if I was able to be unconscious for awhile
that was a victory.
I’m not sure what dreams were like
during this period
or even if I had any.

At some point,
when I thought I had some answers,
and maybe I did,
dreams became fuller, story like,
and I stood up to various people,
confronting, correcting,
until I made my point.
Life and dreams tracked each other
for a number of years.
The consistency was nice,
and then the clarity began to fade.

Then dreams just became another part of life,
sometimes undistinguished,
playing themselves out
as I played myself out.

A few days ago a face on TV
looked as if it were fading, distant, removed,
and that night in a dream
My mother's and father's faces looked the same
as I held them,
and there was a deep piercing anguish
inside my being
as I sometimes felt as a child,
and it was as if I said,
"please, don't leave me,
I'm not ready,
Please, please, don't leave me yet."

373.

Religion


Lingering on   

Spoke to my x wife last night who is 1200 miles away and asked her what is a good simple prayer upon getting up in the morning to begin the day.  She recommended the Shema Israel, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad. prayer which is so simple but beautiful.  M converted to Judaism a number of years ago, after we were separated, but knows 10 times as much as I do.  During the conversation she mentioned she was part of a discussion group on Long Island, consisting of two yeshiva grads and other intellectual and searching types.  They had good piercing discussions on Judaism and just life in general and she thought I would enjoy it and also shake it up a little.  She went on to say it goes well for a while and then someone says something you disagree with and it becomes really annoying and you don't go for awhile.

I agreed and then added sometimes with groups it as if I'm on a raft and they are in a yacht.  We can share thoughts and I can shout across but at any time the waves can send me under if not a big fish and all that might happen to them is their tea spills.  They have a comfort level I've never felt.  Some were able to learn at their own pace.  For me it has been rocky, crisis driven, and studying could not be done for its own sake, but to make sense of the shocks I was absorbing.  Religion, theology had to work or not in my landscape.  If it didn't I couldn't keep it around for too long.

I then said for whatever reasons our backgrounds seemed severe and severe lives followed.  There is a reason she has a heart condition and is not that old and there is a reason I get sinus migraines monthly.  Head pressure can't be good.  M agreed.  I take care of myself too, get sun, eat well, do whatever I can, more than 95% of the people, but have not been able to turn this around.  Our issues can take us out I added.  Despite our efforts, our bodies reflect forces at work that were there from the start.

I said many others who age have issues.  They have knees replaced or hips.  But they are able to linger on.  With us we have damage that can end things abruptly.  Our bodies took some hits and absorbed them and carry them around.

True, they just.....lingeeeer on, she answered.

345.  Past


Personal


Tired

Tired

As a child
snapshots of aging men in tee shirts
staring out windows with their TV’s blasting,
overhead fans turning
above noisy restaurants
up and down 1st and 2nd avenues
imprinted my mind.

These images are recalled decades later
as I’m lying on my back,
blood laboring through my body
tired but not able to sleep
up but not able to do.
Much time is spent like this
only understood with age and isolation.

There is a question here.
Were these men my future,
the sum total of bangs, bruises,
jabs, jostling
ending in a state of inertia,

or am I similar but different
perhaps like a fatigued boxer
in the late stages of a fight
patiently waiting for the right opening
so I can turn this thing  around?

190.  Past

Personal


The look 

The look on Ruth
was distant
with sad acceptance.
Her eyes knew something
I wanted to know.
.
Maybe our flaws were seen
without complaint.
Maybe loneliness was accepted
and not fought.

I wanted to be with her
behind this look. 

184.  Past




Personal


Whatever I had  

  
I realize I could never have risked being too vulnerable when training as an artist.  My upbringing made no sense. It was as if a black hole was beneath me and I could sink at any minute.  There was little peace.  So I uplifted myself, unconsciously grabbed some safe achievements and won an art contest and received recognition.  For a brief time it offered some importance, covering up a sea of indifference and lack of understanding that I received during my development.

When I realized I needed a foundation in art, and I tried to obtain this, I found out all the training offered was insufficient.  Yet I could have tried to make the most of it but from my situation I couldn't.  I was not able to give up a sense of specialness.  Without this I felt I had nothing.  To train and evolve in a certain system would be a letdown, because it could not live up to my expectations.  I was stained.  So I was not able to fully invest myself into the training.  Couldn't risk it or fully stick with it.  All I could do was grab a little here and there.

Later, when I lost everything, I became invisible.  Not in touch with family, I supported myself anyway I could. I traveled as a man alone and tried to nurture myself without any backup.  I waited to see what would emerge.

Then, with whatever training and practice I had garnered from my past, I attempted to make a statement.  Some skills from the past were semi-developed, not as much as I would have liked, but I used whatever I had for the final statement of my life.