ducklings
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San Diego ComicCon 2019
Artists, movie & tv actors’ panels, hundreds of vendors, crowds jamming the convention center & adjacent participating hotels & nearby closed-off- streets-to-car-traffic, restaurants & local hotels enjoying their busiest week of the year, and a time when even adults can let loose with their diversity of costumes.
For my wife and I, it started with early a.m. before Preview Night. We needed to set up our panels for the Art Show at the Hyatt near Seaport Village—which was really cool, because it was open to the general public. Also, because we had tickets for Preview Night, we lucky ones got a head start on beating the really big crowds and receiving extra freebees—which might include anything from special toys & paraphernalia, books & comics & posters, art prints, large tote bags, program booklets for the upcoming week’s events, and at least a general feel for the exhibit floor’s layout before the next crowd-filled days.
Fortunately, our staycation at our hotel provided attendees with a free shuttle in order to avoid the downtown herd of cars. Only the shuttles and permit vehicles were allowed on that stretch of the convention center.
Now that my feet are at rest, I’d like to share with you some pics of our experience—a few of them described; the rest for your visual enjoyment. Peace.
signing spat
my stupid comment
silent but tasteless
tick’d her off
her palms and finger’s
kung fu flyers
flailing from her body
hitting me
hurting me
without touching me
later
my penitence
my standing
on a breath of bend’d knee
flutter’d before her eyes
till we both surrender’d
embrac’d
and cultivat’d smiles
on deaf hands
tree
time’s been good to me
my hide
though bronz’d
by the seasons
manicur’d
be crawlers and flyers
and autographers
still holds fast on firm feet
generations
of admirers
of passing glances
have I outliv’d
and might someday
my leaves never reawaken
your memories
your snapshots
be bless’d
for making me immortal
rest stop
sharing big bird rock
with a smaller bird whose wings
must flap thrice as hard
spacewaves: Piccadilly Circus
in the far tomorrow
eyes within Magellanic Clouds
might detect a signal
vivid voices
among the stars
on golden record
an old crossroads
of me— Westminister
and infer it as noise
and tho’ my rock
in Milky Way
might be no more
yet tarries my name
togetherness
hands
eyes
thoughts
in courtship
sensing
no one
nothing
nowhere but here
now this is dancing
dreamverse 1
the card deck
of my footprints
shuffl’d
cut
reshuffl’d
dealt
to the many myselves
till I’m awaken as one
to a fading memory
of those last hands
sometimes
a struggle
to a complete fold
rock star
hero
on a cd houseboat
sometimes anchor’d
sometimes ploughing video streams—
hypnotizing eyes and ears
at the dinner table
where guests not only share
but also digest as a solitary one
with appetite fully satisfy’d
while never full enough
Nessie of Anaaski
relative or hoax
of Columba’s miracle?
more tricks on our eyes?
Themis
some might see
should want to see
a Yesterday
as She did today
a pebble lighting
upon a sleeping pond
a ripple wading
to the shores
of reason
of marvelment
of sav’d optimism
songs of fair skies
of fresh faces of love
for her own Tomorrow
Love’s Legacy
have always been our spirits
as fancies my heart?
were then We there
at first season’s weaning
when yawn’d and stretch’d a microstar?
night with day to grace
and serenade glacial clouds
whose joy wept over thalassic plains
and bless’d loftiest peaks with child
from Eden
to her tributaries
to now?
so shall We be
though Time be drown’d
in Her foreverness
“Marco!”… “Polo!” said the Hippos
though they define us—
minor gray matter
no forefinger-to-thumb
evolv’d instinct
some of us—
feel we not…something?
even delight in family frolic?
aspiration
in my palm
Star of Dayspring
no, a universe
in itself
th’ offspring of aeons
such wonder
such beauty
to hold and behold
pray, forever and a day
