Waterfall, representing death and rebirth.
Cascading sheets rise and fall from earth.
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
2/2/2016
The dawn broke on a frenzied plain that day,
Whose echoing thoughts did fact and truth to say.
A solemn wit was conquered in the snow,
And came to pass as autumn's season grows.
Though tempest folly joins their marching band
A lark descends upon the monarch's land.
Caroused he sings a tune of mottled grey,
And hails the word of ever better play.
Whose echoing thoughts did fact and truth to say.
A solemn wit was conquered in the snow,
And came to pass as autumn's season grows.
Though tempest folly joins their marching band
A lark descends upon the monarch's land.
Caroused he sings a tune of mottled grey,
And hails the word of ever better play.
Labels:
365,
365 project,
poem,
poetry
Location:
Astoria, Queens
Monday, February 1, 2016
2/1/2016
Each line of questions leads to an end.
Another missing verse, a mind on the mend.
Labels:
365,
365 project,
poem,
poetry
Location:
Astoria, Queens
Sunday, January 31, 2016
1/31/2016
Sleep, sleep, sleep no more
Steps raining round masked, naked
Three times through the score.
Labels:
365,
365 project,
poem,
poetry
Location:
Astoria, Queens
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Does anyone give a damn about value?
"How much does it cost?"
"Is it on sale?"
"I never pay full retail."
If you've never heard or used one or all of these phrases, you're dead or too damn rich to be wasting time reading this blog. Either get the hell off my blog or write me a big fat check. But I digress.
The above phrases are as pervasive in American, and probably world, culture as "hello," "goodbye," or "I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids."
You're probably wondering where I am going with this. Trust me, there's a point somewhere towards the end. I have been doing a good deal of thinking (GASP) lately about the concept of value and its correlation, or lack thereof, with price. Let's not beat around the bush, we live in commercial hell (professional irony acknowledged), and unless you wish to seclude yourself in Thoreau-inspired seclusion, consumption is a part of everyday life.
This thinking has been inspired by the announcement on January 13th that Brooks Brothers would be re-introducing their "original" unlined Oxford Cloth Button Down shirt. Opinions are mixed, to say the least, on this development. If you're unfamiliar with the trajectory of Brooks' largest contribution to American menswear, please visit Ivy-Style.com, where the terrific columnists have expounded on the past, present, and future of the shirt. Spark Notes: Brooks cut more and more corners over the past thirty years, and have been passing off a shit product as the real thing, while charging a price ($90) associated with the real thing. As of January 13th, they have acknowledged this and returned the quality to what it should be. To apologize for 30 years of deceit, they were nice enough to jack the price up to $140. Nice touch, eh? While I'm on this rant, I might as well add that the only thing worse than the product is the service. Walk into a store and you're greeted by a bunch of grumpy old bastards, who make it seem as if you are causing them major annoyance by shopping in their store.
| The New (Old) Brooks Oxford Cloth Button Down |
Strangely enough, the company's increase in price has coincided with ever-present sales. Twice a year, dress shirts (the shittily constructed ones mind you) can be purchased 40% off when buying 4 at time. While this seems great from a consumer standpoint: "cheaper, hurrah!" It does beg the question, do we buy the shirts because they are good? Or just because they are cheap? I can unequivocally say the latter is the case.
The Brooks Brothers example is but a microcosm of larger society and culture. If you think I am about to say something about "the good old days" or "when America was great," go to hell, because I ain't. Like it or not, this question has been around since the dawn of human existence. Perhaps modern manufacturing, cheap developing-world labor, and short attention spans have thrust it to the forefront of our consciousness. I'm looking at you H&M.
| Would you like any shirt with your logo? |
Anyways, all of this leads me to a question for you dear reader, if for some reason unbeknownst to me, you have made it this far. When you head out into the marketplace, what is the highest priority, value or price? Would you rather buy one well-made pair of shoes, or five cheap pairs? Am I full of it? Would love to hear any opinions.
Friday, January 29, 2016
1/29/2016
Love's losing his head as his dreams come true
it was all due to the radio on joyous safari
are California girls that special to you?
as the party grew around you and me?
People singing and dancing and popping off
memorable moments from a literal party
funny bits, loose, talking and singing aloft
its fun, fun, fun and at that literal party.
It feels like we're listening to it for the first time
though we are changing drastically in style.
Did you have doubts when we couldn't find a rhyme?
Did the Capitol hold back or did they understand in time?
It takes you back and elevates your mood
you have a way of doing that, the soundtrack to our lives.
it was all due to the radio on joyous safari
are California girls that special to you?
as the party grew around you and me?
People singing and dancing and popping off
memorable moments from a literal party
funny bits, loose, talking and singing aloft
its fun, fun, fun and at that literal party.
It feels like we're listening to it for the first time
though we are changing drastically in style.
Did you have doubts when we couldn't find a rhyme?
Did the Capitol hold back or did they understand in time?
It takes you back and elevates your mood
you have a way of doing that, the soundtrack to our lives.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
1/28/2016
We could walk up the beach
Bathed in sand surf and sun.
Surf lapping at the shore
I prefer to walk, you to run.
Brown hair dancing in the wind
Sun scorched toes digging in the sand.
Sprinting falling into waters edge
A ballet scripted on end of land.
Sprinting embrace and laughter
Crashing, breaking, falling on the beach.
An endless day that ends too soon
Amongst the memories, too far from reach.
Labels:
365,
365 project,
poem,
poetry
Location:
Astoria, Queens
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