Subia Family and Friends

I Have A Great Friend.

He likes to remain anonymous. Most of my friends do. Does that say something about me? Sorta like...."I like the opera, but don't tell anyone". Well, I'll fix his ass. His name is "Chi". AKA Charles Alexander. He shoots da hoops. Dunks the rock with the grace of dipping a donut. He zips through parking lots on a skateboard.

He's street-wise, but cultured through osmosis. Can speak urban or Socrates. A philosophy major so he debates with renaissance eloquence. You know the type. Can whip your ass in a nano-second but prefers poetic words to prove how weak one really is. He loves to "rope-a-dope" those that think they are the most intelligent person in the room. Then he strikes with Muhammad Ali type surgical precision but rather than fists, an educated tongue. He's kinda like a Stanford graduated pit bull that would rather convert one to humblism than bite you in the butt.

I have to carry around Webster and a book of Plato one-liners. Otherwise I fall miles behind. Often I have to excuse myself and go Google stuff real quick under the guise of having to take a piss.

Did I mention he's a practicing chef? He can mix up some collards and pork and beans then convince you it is steak and lobster. Funny thing is, everyone thinks it is steak and lobster. I think it's just collards and beans. However, very good collards and beans.

Anyway. I show Chi this picture of a snow-fall I took during a June in Flagstaff.

Tony's Springtime

Somehow he conjures up visions of a poem, called "Tony's Spring". Now look at that picture again. It's snow. It's foggy. It's cold outside. And he thinks of Spring? In context of me? OK. I got out Webster and a book on 15th century poets that spell funny. Is he saying that my Spring Time Attitude is Cold As Ice? Is he suggesting that my pessimistic views can't tell the difference among fluttering butterflies, wildflowers, budding leaves and bopping Robins versus freezing-ass, miserable weather?

I've read it 4,622 times. I think I get it. And it's good. Here's the poem. Let's hear your analysis. Sorta like Picasso throwing paint on a wall assuming everyone can realize the artistic brilliance. Thing is, Chi is a better poet than Picasso's ability to get human parts in proportion. That's why Picasso paints Campbell Soup cans. Yeah. Just what I want to hang on my wall!

Just kidding Chi. I looooove Tony's Springtime.

Tony's Springtime.

I see everything.

But sound does not oblige me .

I feel loved.
But the aire does not comfort me .
I am surrounded by an eddy of dreams.
But my thoughts are fruitful.
As the pendulum sways I feel a shiver
Roll up my spine.
Remembering days of warmth and falcon soar
Related to coveted beginnings.
The axiom of my existence has no glory.
But the wisdom of my pain builds character.
I am bound on all sides of antiquity.
Fore the balance is my virtue.
As I stroll through seasons familiar smells
return to me .
Maple trees on the hill,
Lemon grass from the groves,
And lavender in the air.
Its such a wonderful time in the spring.
There are many mysteries in the world.
But to walk with me is to know me.

~ Chi, Summer 2008