that minty taste

I got to thinking about ice cream sitting in the early recliner yesterday, coffee rushing through my bloodstream which apparently is still working just fine. An aside – I once asked a guy named Dick M to explain to me exactly how “the program” worked, and he smiled and answered, “Just fine.” Which falls well…

By BuddyCushman 04/11/2022 0

weighing in

I just finished “Saltwater Buddha”, exactly a week after it arrived last Friday, where I started it out on the small patio, in my favorite chair there. I believe an hour before I did my (Friday afternoon) weigh-in. Time flies. It was the day after seeing the Bruce Willis ‘aphasia’ news and two days before…

By BuddyCushman 04/08/2022 0

oh, come on

like, Dude, I’m 73 and I’m still here and nearly all my stuff save for some plastic teeth is original, parts by Mopar, kind of, and so many of the most important Sangha members of the me of me are long gone off the physical planet, least as these two eyes can see, and I…

By BuddyCushman 04/07/2022 2

flowering universe

I said to my friend Bob yesterday, on my phone from a bench outside the kids’ building, “I’m grateful Susan divorced me.” What a weird thing to say. I added, “And my heart is broken, and breaks again every day.” He listened in Massachusetts. “It’s simultaneous,” I said. Both these opposites at the same time.…

By BuddyCushman 04/06/2022 0

technically, it’s the flowers

So, Saturday this young guy I know, name’s Zack, asked me to speak to a group of his friends, pretty much about anything, this would be like a Chautauqua (i.e., wildly hip talk). The conversation would happen on Zoom. I explained to Zack my technical abilities were, you might say, skimpy, and he said no…

By BuddyCushman 04/04/2022 2

just a story

I’ve been singing to myself the Joan Jett song – “I Don’t Give a Damn About My Bad Reputation”. I just played it on YouTube. Vast punk. Wow. I recently decided, like 211 seconds ago, if I ever reach enlightenment, I would want this as my Dharma name: Vast Punk. Did I tell you I…

By BuddyCushman 04/01/2022 1

thanks for sharing

Two January’s ago, the 22nd, 2021, I said this space would be the place I posted/shared/wheezed my daily weather. Like, this is me today. Me including emotional, spiritual, physical, hopeful, sometimes factual – the particular language of the day bringing me closer to or further from the me of me. Mostly closer. I feel clearly…

By BuddyCushman 03/31/2022 0

lonely pieces of scrap paper

Old wild poet Stumbling the day away. Bridges form everywhere. Hidden routes winking, Blinking, Inviting me in To a secret Tuesday. ************************************************ By 8:45 this morning I’d already had 10,000 thoughts. Some weren’t bad. Few weren’t crazy. Here’s one – What encourages? Now there’s a question from, say, this new mind’s order. Like which song…

By BuddyCushman 03/30/2022 0

lives

A woman named Dana I worked with back for a kid agency in Massachusetts said something to me after I’d given notice in preparation to begin another chapter of this life in California. This was the tail end of 2005. What Dana said to me was this – “You have no idea how important you…

By BuddyCushman 03/29/2022 2

going time

I thought, just now, of an old song – “Who Knows Where the Time Goes”. My first image was of Judy Collins and I went to YouTube and searched and, yes, it’s a Judy song. Back from – here’s another song title from that era – when I was young. A quarter to anyone fauna…

By BuddyCushman 03/28/2022 2

practice

Kendall came to me sometime during the night, and ruffled me gently until my eyes opened. “It’s time to get up and practice.” “Practice what?” I asked, still sleeping. “Practice it,” she said. I got up.

By BuddyCushman 03/24/2022 0

this, that, and the other thing

After I’d been awake for a while, today, after I’d had some physical experiences, the thought came to me I ought to and could live this day like it’s the last one I get on the planet. There maybe 10,000 more, who knows? But, this is the one I have, this particular and unique and…

By BuddyCushman 03/23/2022 2

an emptying path

My brain emptied out Sunday morning. It’s the second time in my life I’ve had this distinct awareness and feeling. (Eighteen months ago) Something gone very different. Both times have been unnerving. If my brain’s working any better now, as I write this, if useful words come to me, I’d like to talk about it…

By BuddyCushman 03/21/2022 3

a San Marcos sparrow

The early afternoon warmed by the mid-March sun. Think balmy, think of how that word makes you feel. The inland day kissed by an on-shore sea breeze, it’s 10-mile sojourn from the coast relevant. Important. Successful. I saw a sparrow fly from the building across the way into a small pine close by ours. Thirty…

By BuddyCushman 03/17/2022 0

if I could fly

I was talking to Gavin Monday night, telling him a new wave of loneliness had settled over me, for the last week or so. I told him I’d been able to do some sweet things up in Encinitas, and back here, too, in San Diego. But there was no one to share them with. This…

By BuddyCushman 03/16/2022 2

proposed ponytail

Here’s some Tuesday stuff: * I drove home from the kids in San Marcos in daylight for the first time last night, it was glorious, it was friendlier, and I realized, safely parked out in the back lot, I felt high. Not stupid high but wicked alive high. I brought my stuff in, said hello…

By BuddyCushman 03/15/2022 1

Friday gets around

Oh, you stylin’ cat. And no hair trimming, its silver growth there in reflections, and someday I’m going to that salon on Newport in OB with hopefully a hot chick behind the shears, ask for a stylish trim, so’s to woo my Muses and aid to my oh so light touch as a poet. It’s…

By BuddyCushman 03/12/2022 0

Away

With life happening, and changes here this week – where I’m planted – I’ll likely be taking something of a vacation from Couch Surfing at 70. First weekdays without posting since all the way back to January 22, 2021, when I pronounced my intention to write something about my internal weather for that day –…

By BuddyCushman 03/07/2022 0

I am watered

Lots of birds. Lots of flowers. Bird songs and flower colors. Each time I walk the neighborhood streets, adjacent neighborhoods too. More, it feels, with each walk. More avian choruses. More showing off their nature flowers. And, most days I walk twice. Is it possible more birds have arrived from somewhere else, farther south, and…

By BuddyCushman 03/04/2022 0

falls out while walking

There was a walk. And there were words. Poetry, poetry. Words come out of the world, like a seventh-grade dance. Do you want to (dance) be a poet? East-coast Spring in February. Colors, descending planes. The jazz of birds. Who’s the conductor, I wonder? Or what? To be called brilliant. Those things matter. Now, I’ll…

By BuddyCushman 03/03/2022 0

I don’t need an audience

but I’d like one. Call it sharing. Oh, mischievous cat – I have been you all along. All through hoping I could be. All through thinking I’d never be. Not really. Not entirely. Not all-in with mischief. It’s funny now, this morning, to think anything other than the truth. I’ve been you all along. Just…

By BuddyCushman 03/02/2022 0

Ola

I’d say some 80% of my life these days is lived in a realm of spontaneity. Something floats into my head, and – zap!! – I act on the thought. Barely measurable time between the thought and the doing. There’s an adventurous, exciting, mostly interesting quality to living this way. Including the screwups. AA literature…

By BuddyCushman 03/01/2022 1

tell me why

I pull the cord, open the blinds, see two crows fly by. The early sky is morning blue. This week is brand new. The journey goes on. Rituals include the 7:45 walk, my skip a little quicker. It’s a work day. On the walk, downhill one way, uphill the other, horizontals zigzagging and connecting, a…

By BuddyCushman 02/28/2022 0

portions and potions

So much. Filled head. Be an always poet – like yesterday. Resigned. I start here, and come back all day. Walking. Writing. Freeway. Up against a patio wall. Shopping and returning and between Kevin Costner movies. Among. Free, in some other way, reminded of childhood victories. And childhood failures. Always with the magic. How much…

By BuddyCushman 02/25/2022 0

old, wild poet

That’s how I thought of myself earlier. Old (got proof), wild (we’ll get to that) poet (four, count ’em, published books). So – I think about being wild a lot. I really do. In my mind I see everly-more-wild me. Wilder by the minute, son, not so someone would chide, “Too damn wild for your…

By BuddyCushman 02/24/2022 3

here and there

The day is cleansed, winter storm and overnight pours, gleaming brightness of morning. The wind continues to race, it chills the southern California day. But the air is clear, and flowers and succulents sparkle and glow. So alive. I, speaking for myself, am thrilled to be alive. Blessed to wake to another day. I did…

By BuddyCushman 02/23/2022 1

different quiets

if I lived alone I’d be reading all the time. And drinking coffee. All the time. But I don’t and I cannot read with noise, pretty much any noise at all, which is one of the reasons I started getting up every single day at 4:35 a few years back, in Portland with a wife…

By BuddyCushman 02/18/2022 0

I’ve been thinking

I’ve been thinking about my life this morning – I always do – but more honed in with specifics, particularly while typing in a timed writing exercise (25:25). Facts and memories and vibrant visuals of there, then, them, co-worker kids in Venice Beach and kids I was there for in North Reading High School, and…

By BuddyCushman 02/17/2022 0

the first

Early, in the recliner, bathed in light from the floor lamp, drinking luscious coffee, the thought slipped into my mind that tasting and sipping and loving the early coffee, while reading Maxine, was the high point of the day. Then, not two seconds later, that thought scooted away, replaced by this is the first high…

By BuddyCushman 02/15/2022 0

on the menu

Earlier I was working on my taxes. The past 11 years my then wife Susan did our taxes. She has a math mind. I have a silly mind. Today, no house as deduction, no marriage as deduction, no Susan, there’s me on my own. No surprise, then, to hear the sound of moans, whimpers, teeth…

By BuddyCushman 02/11/2022 0

this is that

While it is entirely unlikely I’ll be having spaghetti for dinner tonight, it is less than likely I’ll be driving over to the beach today, choosing instead to remain happy in my room drinking lots of coffee and occasionally pouring out into the 75 degree, sunny blue daylight, maybe swing by the tattoo shop and…

By BuddyCushman 02/09/2022 0

Susie says

I see through the slats of the blinds there’s already early light showing through. I’ve dallied getting here to today’s (Morning) Pages. It’s well and good and, simply, here today. And one interesting – it feels cool – thought I had in the recliner while my paper cup was still alive with coffee is that…

By BuddyCushman 02/08/2022 0

18 cups of coffee

I wonder what will happen if I drink 18 cups of coffee today? Can’t sleep tonight? Heart off to the races? So much clarity I’m dumbfounded? See things in my bathroom for the first time? Read everything? Food becomes a long-sleeved shirt? I walk and talk to flowers? Decisions are neither good or bad? Just…

By BuddyCushman 02/02/2022 0

counting

It snowed this weekend, back there in the home town, right off Cape Cod, where I could have been, just the way Pink Floyd sang it – “Your possible pasts.” And, Dude, that’s one on my mind, lawdy, here comes the inconceivable divorce, I got NOWHERE to go!! My friend Andy offers his basement, come…

By BuddyCushman 01/31/2022 0

weekdays blur

Kindness and concern and not knowing – freedom in not knowing. Snowstorms, divorces, and boogie boards. 19 minutes of sitting still. Oh, collective conscious. Not keeping track of the inconceivable. But, friendlier with it.

By BuddyCushman 01/28/2022 0

sharing

For all I know, sometime in the future I walk around screaming, to share all the joy. Fun image. Seemingly crazy as editor-less. I don’t believe I’ve passed this way before, but I’ve got a vivid glimpse of what becomes of the broken-hearted. (via Jimmy Ruffin) I know some of the now stuff and I…

By BuddyCushman 01/27/2022 0

chambers of esoteric

 Oh, spacious meadow, under big, wide sky, see-through blue umbrella, there’s poetry everywhere I look and think. Slight chill in the room, streaming, passing dawn, and one less turned-on light, planful for the first half of the day, kid-time (me) and reading and being there then, all the way available for emotional treats and cheerings…

By BuddyCushman 01/26/2022 0

here’s Tuesday

I have this sense I ought to come to these (Morning) Pages with wide-open mind and channel my inner everything out through the pen, that brake-less and editor-less place which feels like the path for me today. Right here, at this little black desk, in this room in this condo in Golden Hill in San…

By BuddyCushman 01/25/2022 0

path

Out past the carbohydrates of my history. They yell, but my muffs are strong. Someone gifted me a secret treasure map. I don’t remember who. (I do.) When I step into whatever ever there is, sun shines through spaces in the clouds, a breeze laughs its way down the street, through and beyond me. The…

By BuddyCushman 01/24/2022 0

morning

I’m sitting in a rather uncomfortable straight-back chair in what’s called “the little house” in Marsing, Idaho, my son Spenser’s personal domain. Tight by the Snake River, which I could see yesterday, through falling snow. Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s “Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing” has floated on into my mind. Blessed morning.

By BuddyCushman 01/21/2022 1