80)
There are no laws that say
this is the way to go
or not.
Life is not rigid
but bendable,
changeable,
and malleable, to which
this means life will
shape and mold as we go
and rest assured,
be prepared for changes
and surprises
and in the element of unexpectedness
be aware that life is always
evolving
and in the end
so are we.
There is no such thing as perfect stillness,
at least not when the earth moves as it does,
seven days a week,
52 weeks, and one day,
or 365 days to make up
another year around the sun.
There are seasons
and moments of bliss
and there are moments we miss
without a blink
and there are casualties,
tragedies,
victories and memories that last us,
hopefully, forever
up until the last day, until we die,
and then,
at least to me,
we are an ongoing memory,
unstoppable, no longer
limited to the laws of the flesh
and now, while being of the spirit,
we become an uncontainable energy
elsewise, the afterlife,
to which
when I am to go,
then please let me go in peace.
Let me partake in the memories
that stretch back to my best days
and let me remember the best people,
such as the loved ones, or my love,
and let her be with me,
in my heart,
for all of eternity.
81)
Where did all the time go?
What happened to the old 42nd Street?
Where has my City gone
and where was I that so much
happened
right before my eyes?
Somehow,
it would seem as if either
I wasn’t paying attention,
or I was none other than a participant
in the demise of a place
that I have always loved.
My City
My society . . .
I am not afraid of the word
romance
nor am I afraid of the word
love.
I am not afraid to show my scars
or my wounds
or tell the tales of my battles
because, at some point,
I know that there is a plan for me,
and, more,
I know that you are not an accident
nor is the randomness of
how our past seems to overlap
and bring us back
to where we are supposed to be,
as in,
together.
I am not afraid to say
that I was wrong.
I am not too proud to admit
that I was, am, and can be selfish
and scared,
and childish, like a brat
who never got what he wanted
and yes, I fully, totally
and completely believe
that grown-ups throw fits
the same as infants throw
tantrums.
I also agree with the saying:
I have wanted to run away more as an adult
than I ever did when I was a kid.
82)
There is something about the silence
or the absence of sound,
so quiet that one can hear their ears ring
because otherwise
there’s nothing else to hear — except
the sound of your own breath
or the sound of your heartbeat
echoing in the pillow
because, of course,
insomnia has pulled a trick
again,
and wide awake
with the hoofprints of horsepower
that gallop through the imagination;
I am ever reminded of a friend who told me,
never play that movie out in your head.
The tragedy never ends well
and your imagination can do nothing else
but make matters worse.
I get that now.
Perhaps now, more than ever before.
83)
You know?
I want to go back to the summertime
and think of how the waves along the beach
can lull you to sleep.
I consider the rise and fall
of the tides to be nothing more
than a representation of
Mother Earth’s chest
as she breathes,
rising and falling
breathing in deeply
to prove the heartbeat of the land
is alive and well,
and at least for the time being,
the warmth in Manhattan
allows me to think
about the sun over Point Lookout,
and how
I have always wanted to share this place
with you.
If I think,
I can feel the sun on my face,
or if I remember correctly,
I can think about a sunset
that was like no other,
ending a day in the sun,
and all around us
was unimportant
because the only thing
that was important
was me
next to you.
I think I need a trip soon.
I need to feel the sun
or how it shines
and warms the skin
while lying back
beneath the sun,
say, like
poolside
of somewhere in paradise
with palm trees
the smell of oil on our skin
and later on, a moonlight
that no one else
could recreate
not even a writer,
like me
or a dreamer
like you.
84)
It’s easier this way
for me
to reach you
here
away from the crowds
and the pressures
of say
what to do
or what not to.
I am trying to improve
for myself
as well as for my future
because what future could I have
if I am only alive
or living in my past.
I don’t want the past anymore,
I want this moment
to be the swell
that makes the wave for tomorrow;
and if the wave should crash
then, so be it.
But at least I got to ride the wave
for as long as I could
with you.
The moon over Miami –
it always makes me think
and just so we are clear,
not all thinking
is overthinking.
At least,
I think so.
I hope you think so
too.
It’s almost spring
the rest
will be here
before we know
Or, so I hope.
The Written Addiction 