Once Upon a Notion

Once Upon a Notion

The Feral Contemplations
of an Untamed Mind

Volume 1
“Reveille”

Dedications:

This volume, the complication of months of helplessness
become hopefulness, is for Julia, aka “Jubers,” who, in her
early discovery of the power of the written word,
transformed sulky reticence to literary magnificence
through her journalistic shares, happy with the discovery
that the pen, or at least, the keystroke, is mightier than
the sword, equal to, or greater than, even one of her
mother’s spontaneous outbursts.
Here’s to the light of my life, still golden after all these
years,

Dad/”NoName”/Tatey “Write on.”

THIS PAGE INTENTIONALLY BLANK

My Kind (of) Mother or Why I Stayed Up Late
Polishing the Marble

My Mother-
She
A heart grown sad with the passing of years,
Full of ambitious dreams for an eccentric boy.
She who cares if I come or I go
Still cares for me with the driver of her will
With strengfth to surmount the sadness and
disappointment
Of whom I am not now.
Though I go alone, she is always with me-
The apparition of unconditional want
Really! If it lifts her pride, what is it to me
Who she pretends me to be

You-an eternal moment of everlasting grace
The pilgrim soul in you
Finds ways to smooth the sorrow of your unchanging face
But not the anguish
Of unequaled yen for correctness
For me-the square-pegged egghead whole failed the finals
Because he was out shopping for immortal images
Or just loving the full moon.
Are you my angel?
Or just the hapless blind guide still trying to help
Who cries for me and exhorts me on.
But I lost my starting block
And decided to follow the hearprints of the human race
instead
If you try to live more between your thoughts
I’ll try to be more conscious of wiping away your tears
And less of a public menace
When we both get to heaven.

What It is True; Notes from Love in the Lab

Ours is a partial language; part pantomime,
Part fear, part love,
And part estimable guesswork based on
Years of persistent begrudging
Anticipation of meaning and motivation,
Often leading to distrust and disturbance.
Still, a chemistry there.
Working with volatile reagents,
There are bound to be
A few explosions under the hood;
Components the same with but formulae uncommon
And unpredictable;
An experiment in ecstasy.

The aftershocks from the beauty you gave me
Scatter the shards of recognition
That you are not me, and I am never You
But the feelings always end up right
Where we started.
Hidden in my heart of hearts.
You won’t agree, but
The world owes us nothing, promising less.
Call it freedom, free will, Wednesday, or just
your birthday.
Sorry about the mess.
My fumes with yours, forever.

I Give Thanks For the picture-perfect sunsets of this year.
For all those Spanish-eyed children, Oh, so dear.
(Thanksgiving, 2013) For small and insignificant things
And for a spiritual life-my heart sings,
I give thanks.
For loved ones who forgive my failing ways.
For kindness done on dreary days.
For lessons learned that come with pain.
For truth that comes with wisdom gained,
I give thanks.
Turkeys restless in the pen,
Never to see life again
It makes me stop and take a pause
Reflecting on such karmic laws.
I give thanks.

For fair trade coffee, for family riches
For little green men (those sons of bitches)
For lessons learned that come with pain.
For truth that comes with wisdom gained,,

For the hay and the corn and the wheat that
is reaped
I LOVE KIDS, does that make me a creep?
For the sun and the dew on my windshield
glass
For the chance to just be and scratch my ass.

For compassion and kindness and unselfish
ways,
For the written word, for insight that stays
So many fine things to be grateful for
All that you are-why ask for more

Love Letter to And even in our sleep, heart, …
Mother Earth pain that we cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the
I am not afraid of your strength and darkness, of your
fear and pain;
Give me your tears.
They will be my rushing rivers and roaring oceans.
Give me your rage.
It will erupt into my molten volcanoes and rolling
thunder.
Give me your tired spirit. I will lay it to rest in my soft
meadows.
Give me your hopes and dreams.
I will plant a field of sunflowers and arch rainbows in the
sky.
You are not too much for me.
My arms and heart welcome your true fullness.
There is room in my world for all of you, all that you are.

I will cradle you in the boughs of my ancient
redwoods and the valleys of my gentle rolling hills.
My soft winds will sing you lullabies and soothe your
burdened heart.
Release your deep pain.
You are not alone and you have never been alone.
A Vault of Astute Insight.
Our Fort of Assured Victory !
We are but Naval Vessels,
Bounded by Endless Oceans.
Having Limitless Abilities......
We're Invincible to Life's Sea Storm.
The Trouble has No Effect on Our Focus,
We are Ourselves,
A Force of Nature
Let go of everything you fear to lose.

Unspoken Words for a Great Mom

Your daily sacrifices
Are nothing to compare with
You’re my great hero
I owe you my life
My heart melts when you cry
Your tears: rivulets of unspeakable love
Unconditional
The greatness of your love
In you, I feel God
I’m so sorry
I fall short
But know-you’re here for the long haul

You're always there and are the
Foundation of our family
You're always there and are the
Foundation of our family
You work so hard and ask for so little
You never complain and always smile
Your children-standing monuments
Of great mother’s love
To be enshrined in my heart
You’re the only mom
Who’s replaceable by no one
The comfort of a good friend
I hope in some little way I can
Do for you as you've done for all of us
Live long and prosper.

A Silent World

A silent world - An empty core,
Lifeless land with nothing more.
The waves are crashing on the shore.
Mass production, out the door,
Extinction’s call we choose to ignore,
And the waves are breaking at the shore.
A new beginning, our fathers - fore,
A bigger harvest give me more,
The waves are lapping at the shore.
We sail the seas, in skies we soar,
Nature conquered, blood they poured,
Crimson waves rest on the shore.
A fractured earth, relations sore,
A greed that breaks our natural core,
And the waves are turning on the shore.

I’m well acquainted with the darkest night.
i’ve outwalked the furthest suburban light.
I’ve looked down the saddest city lane.
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain
I lie in the flood of sidewalk light
In my own bed-just another November night,
Conjuring the right from the averse
Creating a parallel universe.
The dark comes quickly down wild, fair places,
Whispering between random thought spaces;
With wealth of joy and Aha living,
My insights now are not for Thanksgiving.
No ghosts or goblins or trick-or-treats,
No candy or flowers for my sweets.
No gifts to buy or presents to give,
Thankful for the life I live.

Prudie Pie

I… stood… alone
I never ever picked-up-the-phone
With all the world calling
Then… you… were there
I just can’t begin-to-share
You stopped me from freefalling
You called out my name…
And since then I’ve never been the same
I remember I was alone
With everything-painted in single tones
I don't always know what-to-say
Cuz your inner beauty takes-my-breath
away-
You look at me
And know exactly what I can see
Since that day you found me

You taught me to give
Showed meee, a-better-place-to-live
You helped me to see
You changed my I to We
When I was losing continuity
So I could find my connectivity
Don’t you know I love you so
Are things the way they seem
Don’t wake me if it’s just a dream
You made me what I am.
I don’t have to draw a diagram.
Oh, can't you see
that you were born to be
With me by-your-side
And you as my bride.

Love Letter/No Better Weather

Love-the unspoken undercurrent of all religions
So inexplicable
Speak one word of it
And you have already depleted it.
A word that, as a word, is incapable of extending
The fabric of all Space and Time
Yes
You know me like the wind knows the canyons
And the rain knows the rivulets
The universe spills through our unconscious
present thoughts
And the future belongs to those riders of the
storm
With the most compelling story.
The sunshine of good intention still casts shadows
on everything
Leaving forecasts of scattered to broken dreams
Followed by the occasional return to
breakthrough noble truths

Year-round with unpredictable climes.
And yet-
If there wasn’t so much love,
There wouldn’t be so much pain,
So many squalls, or such torrential swells.
You know -
If I could experience all the weather at
once
Then I could tell you about Love
And the kiss of every lover that’s ever lived
But I can’t
Other than to say
Your love for me has created seismic shifts
And condensed the dew point of my
dreams.
Forever

A Call to Your Arms

I am drawn to all of your beauty and
vulgarity,
Both redolent and repellent in its easy
seduction;
Heavily conscripted to your impressive
empire,
And protest, only meekly, willing to bear
arms, though not always open them
In my game embrace to make the world
safe from mediocrity.
Your fiery nature may burn me to scorched
earth,
Yet, out of the same earthiness comes the
everlasting spring of your exultances ;
Where I find both ripeness and decadence
and a path back to the Mother.

The magnificence of your essence is
not blameworthy; life is not always
good, but it is genuine, be it stubbornly
long or suddenly short.
In mortal splendor: your meteoric life
eclipses the mountains of my despair:
shining on amidst the banality of a
perishing republic.
For me, serving you with dedication has
been just short of compulsory.
And I, as your clever servant, will be
yours in defying Time, the insufferable
master.
Grateful to rejoice in the noblest of
spirits before God, when he walked on
earth
And live to fight the ennui of another
day

The Shadow of My Heartlight

My thoughts collect.
They are curious,
but not unfriendly.
A page waiting for images
To chew at its corners,
How to describe
That world that mothers spin
And love us in
Those particular hands
That spread for years and miles;
That can smooth anything:
Butter on bread,
Cool hands on fevered brows
It’s the wonder of them, good or bad,
Those mother-hands that pet
And shape and slap,

That sew together
The pieces of a better house
Or a life in which you’ll try
to live.
Here you can always find me
Occupying the luxurious space
Between here and there
Yearning for the seduction of an empty room
I’ve done no better
than the others, but for now,
The moment is always pregnant with possibility,
To spawn a more mindful day.
Here you are after all this time,
Wondering when I’m going to be OK
And whether you’ll ever tire from
Picking through the morsels of a hopelessly manic mind.

After Hours Ascendant

When the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;

Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more;

He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!

And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.

With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.

And she sits and gazes at me
With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars, so still and saint-like,
Looking downward from the skies.

The Color of Dreams (revisited) / Not Quite My Awakening

Each new morning with its light,
Leaves rest and shelter of the night,
For a healthy pause,
That nuance extends,
For everything that karma sends.

Holidays here, now. Party-on, though, if the dark
side of the moon Casts too long a shadow, you may
still be too full of yourself.

Our father who art in heaven emits an eery neon hue;
Resplendent but still virtual, illuminating Black Friday
mammons and golden calves gone platinum;
Hoping to slow my mad rush to another day of judgment.

Each word, as someone once wrote, contains the
universe.   
The visible carries all the invisible on its back.
Tonight, in the unconditional, what moves in the
long-limbed grasses,  is what touches me (whoever I
am); That shrinking me, in search of
Phantasm al peace and
The rusty leaves that crink and crackle.

Beneath the remaining red berries hanging from
the Thorn tree
The last fall leaves fall to the ground.
Bleakness, through the trees and bushes,
Comes without sound.

I sit, rapt, in its scattering.
Happy with nothing to show
And nowhere to go.

After Hours Uttered not, yet comprehended,
Ascendant Part II Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.
Oh, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died!
And I wept both night and day,
And he wiped my tears away;
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart's delight.
So he took his wings, and fled;
Then the morn blushed rosy red.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten-thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again;
I was armed, he came in vain;
For the time of youth was fled,
And grey hairs were on my head.

A gentle wind blew cross the land
Reaching out to take a hand
For on the winds the angels came
Calling out my mother's name.

Left behind, the children's tears
Loving memories of the years
Of joy and love, a life well spent
And now to God a mother's sent.

On angel's wings, a heavenly flight
The journey home, towards the light
To those who weep, a life is gone
But in God's love, 'tis but the dawn.

RANDOM CHANCE HAIKU/THE RIDE HOME I
MISSED
Praise the wet days,
For few they are.
The shadow of my thoughts
And my old Honda car.
Praise
god or the gods, the unknown,
that which imagined us, which sometimes stays
our hand, our stroking hand, our murderous
hand,
and gives us
still,
in the shadow of death,
our daily life continues to continue,
and the dream still

Praise
flow and change, ever-loving darkness and
the pulse of day.
Gone are the birds that were our summer guests
Only the empty nests are left behind
Deserted, outside our curtained window-panes
All things are symbols
Reflecting unspoken expectations
Peace of mind like some
Prized crystal eyeball after
it subs in a game of table pool
comes without a Black Friday pricetag
Still, no winners when too few takers take it all.
Entangle yourself with pleasures
(Like hungry ghosts-imposters with opaque alibis)
Or… turn your bright light inward
And live in eternity’s sunrise.
True Praise, unfiltered, unfazed,

Our House
We enter this life like a house which we do not own.
Extracting the key from the flowerpot
You left for me,
I entered finding your polished hardwood level floors
Only to pry up the boards
Looking for unseen immortal treasures
Money could never buy.
You threw open a window and I stared into the eyes of opportunity
But ran in an utterly different direction,
Trying to avoid stumbling on the stigma of privilege,
And wanting something more than comfortable.
Asking me questions, questions and more questions
I could never find an answer to speak to who I am.
I just wanted to sit with you and be
All that we could be…

Looking back from where I came,
I can appreciate your neatly packaged but narrow vision

Of reassuring factoids about the blessings of a good education
And a decent haircut
Even if it was-window dressing.
You did not realize until late
That my crises were good for my character
But I would not have found the shadows I sought
Without the brightness of the light you lit for me.
Waiting patiently for me to come home
You did not know I was out late
Trying to rebuild a world gone mad.
Nestled in the vastness of your love without walls
I discovered infinite possibility
And a place to grow without fear
But I am home, so you can stop worrying.
Thank you for letting me stay
And find my way
It’s all okay.
(Sorry about the mess I could never completely clean up)
If I kept you up,
Please go back to sleep
Because your dream lives on.

No Place Without a Trace

If I could have you in my arms tonight-
But an ocean of hurt and broken dreams
Lie between you and me
The winter rain reverberates in the courtyard,
Beating all night against the pathway’s stone,
The sound of late rain in the desolate
courtyard
Makes me wonder-can I atone?
To have you here, to have you hear-
My twisted dreams fly out to you all night in
vain
My dear-
Sleepless as the pouring rain.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A native of the San Francisco When not writing he composes pop

Bay Area, Brian Jose’ Reis is a tunes on his keyboard, is a vegetarian
semi-retired chiropractor, cook and likes to hike.

presently living in Foster City,

California. He is married to his He volunteers in his free time as a

long-time wife, Prudence, and chiropractor, and has traveled to

has three grown children, Ryan, Mexico, El Salvador, and Haiti when so

David, and Julia. Dave is autistic engaged.
and very special, teaching us,

every day, about patience, Other ebooks include

kindness and acceptance and ¨Leaves of Change”

reminding us that when life has and “Breakout at the

us cornered, laughter is often Piñata Factory.”
the only way out.