Sunday, February 10, 2008

Notes from the underground. Or: I Can't Stop Blogging You




Crack in the egg department.


I am very superstitious about frying eggs first thing in the morning.

That is exactly the first thing I did when I got my Dear John while living in Mexico.

Crack in the egg.Crack in the mirror. Crack in the marriage.

Hank Williams: "A false goodbye
A life is shattered"

Fragments of my own poetry:

He saw the teardrop on the rose
And again he saw the teardrop on a rose
And he knew he could never melt the teardrop
And he knew this was already the end.


So he kissed the face of the evening wife
As he had kissed it before, in all its varying forms
And again said hello to the precipice of silence
A precipice of silence
For his eleven years of loving...



L never said what she meant.
But the "goodbye forever" note hit me hard.

Shock.

"You are crazed," said the woman across the breafast table.


Yeah, crazed. Crazy in Mexico.
Moral holiday.

Ivan in the garden. God come to collect.
What are you doing, Adam?

All this iconoclasm in this age, The Matrices, the DeVinci Codes, attacks on Christianity, attacks on Judaism.
And we stupidly let someone take our immortal soul, a damn precious thing to lose.

Mesopotamian wisdom thrown into the garbage heap.
We think we know so much.
Keep it in your pants, little pagan.

The garden of Eden is the marriage bed, that's the story, that's the whole story.
And the serpent is the other guy riffing your mistress...Things happen to us and it is only thirty years later we realize why.

And somewhere in there is Master Dante:

You feel bad after what you did, but after another glance at her gleaming limbs, you will want to do it again.

Ladybug, ladybug
Fly away home.

The sheep's in the meadow
The cow's in the corn.

Running back home to kill somebody
Leaving your mistress in a a trail of heartbreak and intravenous tubes. You made her sick.

But God works in mysterious ways. Some would say, "The Bastard!"

You don't snap the string that easily. You left her high and dry and you have to reach back and rescue.

Floating in space in an airplane over Dallas-Fort Worth.

either/or

That old Danish muffin Kierkegaard knew something.
Maybe better than Dante.

Kramer vs. Kramer.

As comfortable with one woman as the other in moments of synchronicity.

Flying over the World Trade Centre on the edge of Manhattan, which is shaped like a giant aircraft carrier.
Not for nothing Starwars and the Empire striking back. Tie fighers and X planes that never scrambled.
People in power even stupider, more immoral than you.

Ladybug ladybug

Bad decision when you get home.
Split decision.
You should have gone to a hotel and not straight home.
At home you catch the wife.
What was good for the gander...
Fisticuffs

Soap opera.
On the surface, everybody so well groomed and middleclass.
Seething adulteries underneath.

"Get over it," sing the Eagles.

How hard now to place one step afer the other.

And yet the highway is strewn with innocents.Distant cries of distant tragedies. And their tragedies are larger than yours--and they hadn't even done anything to deserve bad things happening to good people.

Fate doesn't seem to give a shit,and only rarely is it fucked

Seems one has tried to fuck fate. Stupid Hemingway, his mother's head on his father's shoulders. Tried to fuck fate.
And fate knew more wittingly than he.

Or me.

And yet something keeps us alive.

...............


Another note.
This time a myserious hint.

I fry eggs.

Oh do I know L and her ways!

Girl, you really had me going.

##

24 comments:

Monique said...

Dear Ivan ... what can I say about fate ... or kismet, a word I like much more. I have been so lucky ... The stupid and dangerous things I have done and yet, and yet, somehow my guardian angel spared me.

Yes I carry my bag of shit as everyone else does, but I'm not hung up anymore. Life goes on ... and on ... and on ... and you try and make the best of it.

x

ivan said...

The original Jimmy Rodgers:

"And I'm gonna finish this crazy song
And I ain't gonna sing no mo'
no mo'
no mo'."

Thanks, Monique.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

Fate or destiny is soemthing I will never understand. Who says that someone or thing holds my future in their hand before I have even done anything to deserve that particular present or future. I say phooey! I will try to be my best at all times and fail many times. But at least I do try, more than I can say for some.

But that matters not. In the scheme of things Ivan, from what I know, you have had nearly everything. Perhaps life is simply asking you to be happy in the skin you have. Although, I doubt you ever will be. Do what you do best Ivan. The rest is a piece of cake.

soft love,
T

Lana Gramlich said...

The poem is terribly sad. <:(

Josie said...

"Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul."


Ivan, we have all made decisions in our lives, and then we have to live with the consequences. Some of us have made wise decisions, others of us ...not so much.

You should not look back in regret, because at the time, you probably felt you were doing the right thing.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

I came to read your post again. You are a delightful man even in your moments of insanity, which we all have. You are always so happy- go lucky, but such things for you are facades. Not the real you. I wonder what it was like to know you when you were 30. I find it hard to see you as the arrogant man you say you were. I am trying my best to understand this man that is so complex, but yet something as delicate as love can bring him to tears. You aren't so different from me are you Ivan. Love swims in the deepest of waters and smallest of lakes. It touches your soul like the first time your newborn grasps your finger. You are transformed, even if it is only for a moment and there is nothing that can invade or take away from that. I find that rather endearing.

You are a special man. We all know it, you cannot hide your passion under your humor forever. We have just tasted a bit of it today.

soft love,
T

ivan said...

Tara,

We poets....

(Uh) Certified?

ivan said...

Lana,

I like your somehow- up mark of sadness.

..........

Can't access your comment space for some reason.

ivan said...

Yes, Josie, how true.

The poem you quote:

"Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul."

--Not sure if that's Matthew Arnold or A. Henley in Echoes, but it's certainly uplifting.
ukplifting.

ivan said...

p.s. to Josie,

I double-printed and struck-over my last line in my reply.

I think I still have my fa-faculties. Whee!

ivan said...

p.s. to Tara,

Yes, we somehow learn to attain some degree of happiness in the skin we walk in.
Maybe there's a bit of John-Boy our of "Little House on the Prairie" in some of us.
Sometimes we need to be alone.

Alberto Giacometti and his statues.

the walking man said...

Fuck it, if the sun is up when you rise or rises after you have gotten up then what more is it that fate can offer?

The end result of destiny is a last mortal breath and that is common enough to say we share a destiny.

Peace

mark

benjibopper said...

"I'm fate's bitch, all it does is screw me." -benjibopper, aug. 1, 2001

ivan said...

Wisdom.

ivan said...

Benjibopper,

Did you really pen that?

How a' propos!

Small wonder that you even marked down the date you wrote it.

The truth is sometimes couched in humour, wich might be a crazy cousin of reason.

TomCat said...

Ivan, could it be that trying to understand fate is like trying to understand women? Despite our befuddlement, are we not irresistibly drawn to both?

ea monroe said...

I thought I was inside a Bon Jovi song in several places as I was reading along! ~Liz

Charles Gramlich said...

In poetry we trust.

ivan said...

Tomcat,

Well, I've heard it said that luck is a woman.
With me at times, it's a moth drawn to a flame.
And did you ever see a moth bawl? :)

ivan said...

Aw Lizzie,
How did you know my favourite musician was Ritchie Sambora, back-up man for Bon Jovi?
Sambora's songs can change the world. And have.

ivan said...

Charles,
Thanks.

I have heard it said that the important things in life are literature and poetry.

benjibopper said...

indeed i did, somewhere in british columbia. i was journaling like mad out there, must have been the rain. and i was pretty meticulous about the dates, right up until that famous one in sept 01.

ivan said...

(Slight shudder)

TomCat said...

Poor Ivan. Moth bawls are hard to find!