1)
Understand something:
There are three sides to the cafeterias
in our schools.
To the left are the athletes, or the pretty.
They are the socially elite.
They are the exception to the norm, and the gifted.
To the right are the Continue reading
Monthly Archives: February 2014
Ten
We walked through the empty sands during a cold morning on the first day of the New Year. My daughter and I were alone and the sun was bright. The tide was on its way in and the waves curled into the shore, crashing and echoing into the surf and then tumbling over the broken clam shells before returning them to the ocean.
I held onto her hand, which was half Continue reading
pill bottles
So, I come from a generation of excess.
But then again….so did you
I was raised on the idea of more, and if one was good
then two is better, and if two is better,
then four must be incredible,
right?
Blue pills pass through me
and the machine softens the membrane
to enact the perfect ensemble
of mind, body and soul (So I can rest)
The sound of Continue reading
Sunday morning coffee prose
I never had a grandfather, at least not one that I met.
I only heard stories, and when I did, I felt as though I missed out on something…
See, life moves on regardless to whether you or I agree. Otherwise, if decisions were left up to us it would never rain. Traffic lights would never turn red, and snowstorms Continue reading
sober prose
1)
I remember you well.
I was young then and early in my sobriety. We used to walk from the meeting near 31st St over to 5th and 33rd.
I talked. You mostly listened.
You laughed and told me, “You’ll get it, someday.”
And by get it, you were talking about that thing they call serenity.
You once told me about your Continue reading
poem about temptation
The beast in my imagination has changed throughout the years.
He has changed his clothes and the way he speaks.
He switched his language and altered his scream to the sound of perfect whispers.
The beast in my imagination has matured; he changed his game
and learned how to disguise his tricks
Some think the beast is worse when he growls or shows his teeth.
But I don’t. I think he is strongest when he smiles
That’s when I know something is in the mail
It means something is on the way.
It means I lost my step, and the beast in my imagination
found a different way to spread his wings.
My beast is like the serpent in The Garden of Eden, always suggesting, and always questioning the truth with doubts and curiosity.
“The fruit from that tree must be really good if it’s forbidden.
You should taste it,” he says.
But I’m not supposed to, I tell him.
“Whose gonna know?” he laughs.
“There’s no one here but you and me…..”
Family Television
Years ago, it was unheard of for homes to have televisions in every room. Most homes had one, if any, and it was usually placed in something called the family room, or den. And while I grew up with more than one television in my house, the large set was in the den.
I remember the sitcoms; I remember shows like Continue reading
working man’s thought
Sunday morning and I started my shift before 6:00 a.m.
I stood at the time clock and exhaled my tired exhale. I entered my numerical code and then placed my hand inside the scanner.
After the clock beeped in its tiny beep of acceptance, the word “THANK YOU” flashed on the L.E.D. screen and I exhaled my tired exhale.
The cold weather has been relentless…
I went up to the 29th floor and stood on the setback of the building where I work. I sipped from my coffee, looking west, and watched Continue reading
Something from The Daddy Diaries
Yesterday ended with these words, “Daddy, will you lay with me.”
And of course, I pushed aside the stuffed animals in my daughter’s bed, fluffed one of her several pillows, and then I lay down beside her. She tucked the blankets beneath her chin and snuggled her face into her pillow. She kissed my arm, which she curled into….and all was well.
I see this as a diminishing window of opportunity.
“Daddy, will you lay with me,” Used to be pronounced, “Will you lay wiff me.”
Supermarket was sukermarket and meatballs were pronounced neatballs.
The wheels on the bus no longer Continue reading
Snow days
Snowstorms remind me of when I was a little kid and living at 277 Merrick Avenue. The snowdrifts were up to my knees and my short legs charged through the white piles of fluffy snow. I was bundled in an oversized winter coat with a scarf tied around my neck. I wore a knitted hat pulled over my ears, puffy mittens over my hands, and big clunky boots.
The Old Man used to call them space boots.
I loved the snow, though my toes would get too cold. My fingers were cold too.
Making snowmen or snowballs left my mittens wet, which made Continue reading
The Written Addiction 