After my time on the farm, everything I had, and everything I learned was compiled and stuffed into a duffle bag. My clothes were different. My hair was different too. I had gained weight and my voice sounded more like Continue reading
Monthly Archives: January 2014
just prose
Look at me now…
I live in a home with a few dogs. I have a family. I have rugs on the floor. I have a kitchen and a fridge with food. The heat works in the wintertime, and in the summer, my air conditioners keep the house cool.
There are pictures on the wall, a few paintings, and some mirrors.
I have a shelf with Continue reading
Three Verses
1)
It is morning in our millennium
The sun has yet to rise and burn through the fog.
I suppose I could be sleeping …..but of course….. I’m not.
Instead, I am on a train
I am looking through the window and watching the glowing streetlamps,
which look like blurry halos in the misty haze,
and they fade in the distance as my train pulls me farther from my home.
The sky is more charcoal now than dark.
My eyes are tired.
I could close them, but…
I never sleep on the train.
My back is towards my direction
my face is away from my destination
and my heart is somewhere else
…probably lying on her side, sleeping, and hopefully dreaming of me.
2)
They say you can hear the ocean if you put a seashell to your ear.
I say that’s good.
This way, you can put a seashell next to your ear and hear where my heart lives.
If you listen, you will hear the surf and imagine the seagulls.
You will picture the white foam that reaches the sand,
and the folding waves that return to the tides.
If you listen to this sound, repeatedly….
You will imagine the wintertime sand, still embedded with the footprints and the memories of summer’s warmth.
You will imagine me standing at the edge of the ocean, looking at the clouds above the water, as if they were the beard of God the Father, and the shoreline around me will be vacant.
I have no place more precious than this
but if you happen to find a seashell
put it up to your ear and I promise I will share it with you.
3)
The sun has gone down over the city
The buildings have brightened their smiles with lights to accentuate the skyline.
It’s late on the Island of Manhattan
I could be sleeping …..but of course….. I’m not
My back is towards the Uptown
My face towards the Brooklyn Bridge, and same as when I left this morning,
my heart is probably lying on her side, sleeping, and hopefully dreaming of me.
Today’s thought
I sat in a coffee shop near 28th St on 8thavenue and watched the customers change. This was at a time before the overwhelming variation of different coffee flavors. Large cups of coffee were called large, small cups were called small, and ordering light with milk was as simple as that.
I sat in a soft, comfy chair, and opened a Continue reading
For ‘Sessions in the Balcony’
At Downtown New York City Lounge in my early 30’s: The girl with the “Come hither” look
She smiled and curled her finger as if to motion, “Come here.”
Leaning with my back against the wall and trying to look cool, I mouthed the word, “No.”
she appeared shocked. Then she sipped Continue reading
from the sober minister
It was nice to wake this morning without the rain……
The skies cleared enough for me to see through my front window and notice the flashing red lights from the top of a nearby water tower.
And from my back window, it was nice to see the color of morning ricochet along Continue reading
Mom
It is hard to see the fairness of age. The body changes and the bones ache.
Our vision becomes less than what it was. Our memory fades, or otherwise, blend into inaccurate versions of misremembered facts….
I remember The Old Man never seemed frightened of anything. He wasn’t bothered by the dark. He never minded the cold, or backed away from a challenge, or hard work.
No, the only thing that frightened The Old Man was being old. He was afraid of becoming incapable, or sick.
My mother never Continue reading
Poem
Once we establish heat between us,
there is no place warmer than this:
I imagine you, so often…..
your eyes close as my lips press against yours
Your skin is soft Your voice is gentle
I envision you lying on your side
while curling naked beneath the sheets.
Your eyes twinkle in the candlelight and your smile
represents the remnant of wine at the bottom of your glass.
The way you lay shows anticipation,
and the way you watch me shows your desire
I like that….
I love these versions of you, which I keep with me
I collect them like photographs and use them in my dreams.
I use them as I imagine how it feel to cruise along your body
…..and explore every inch, every piece, every curve
Forgive me if my jaw clinches.
This only means I want you.
And if I growl, it means I feel like a carnivore,
or a hunter–and you are my beautiful game.
But do not mistake my dominance
I can be as gentle as I am wild
I could switch from hard and aggressive
to soft and gentle
Once we have established the connection between us –
the possibilities are endless
or
Infinite…..
Written during the arctic vortex
Right now, the outside temperature is 5 degrees; the wind is west at 22 mph, and the skies are clear at daybreak.
There is frost on the window in my kitchen, which reminds me of a Norman Rockwell painting, and the heat from my furnace makes me wish I could stay home today.
I can hear the heavy Continue reading
Quick Poem
I see you trying to break free
and I am reminded of a winter fly
as it bounces against the cold window
on an otherwise sunny day.
Outside,
the cold would probably end the fly in minutes.
Inside, the sound of buzzing wings
changes tune whenever the fly bounces against the glass.
This is the part that reminds me of you…..
wishing you were on the other side of your reality,
and unaware of the glass between you and your freedom.
After all, the fly does not understand the concept of glass.
But you do.
The fly has no concept of love either.
But you do.
So figuratively,
maybe that’s the glass you hit.
Maybe that’s the barrier that keeps you captive.
It’s not that you’re in love
It’s the worry of who will love you if you leave….
The Written Addiction 