This morning, I sat on a bench on the platform where the morning train carries its share of bodies into a constantly moving city. I faced south because the south side was the sun’s side. Its early orange globe began its hike above the morning horizon, and other than a few strips of pastel clouds, the sky was beautiful and clear.
Below at street level, Sunrise Highway scattered with an early version of life, which would soon congest with traffic, and angry drivers behind steering wheels would complain about other drivers on their cell phones and curse at the rearview mirror about the cars that tailgate behind them. Continue reading →

After all the turns and changes in my life; after all the pitfalls and poor choices,
I knew that somewhere in this world there was love for me.

I dreamt of you once, though I’m not sure if I ever told you about it.
You were sitting on the steps of a green wooden porch in front of a white shingled house.
There was a screen door behind you, which was white with black screens, and the inside door behind it was partially opened.
This was somewhere in an upstate cottage or bungalow and you were smiling.
I don’t remember anything else about the dream.
I only remember you sitting on the porch . . . and your smile.
It was perfect.

I was very young then. I didn’t know who you were or Continue reading →

I see inspiration as a light that survives in spite of darkness.
I see it as a glimmer that refuses to fade, and no matter how slight its light may seem; it will never go out and it will never give in.
Never . . .

I drove passed the buildings surrounded by tall chain-linked fences with razor wire spooled around the top links. I turned right into Continue reading →

Sound gives memory its depth.

I associate the sound of early morning sprinklers chattering across the neighborhood lawns with a drive home after a long night. I was in my early twenties and lost between the ideas of love and lust. I had just discovered an article of clothing, which was left behind by the girl that undressed in my backseat and allowed me a few moments of her time.
After moving through the Long Island parkways, I made it to my familiar side streets, and pulled into my driveway. I was living in a basement at the time, but I was not ready to go inside.
I pulled in and shut the ignition after rolling up the windows in my blue, beat up four-door Chevy. The sky had Continue reading →

The problem with life being busy is time escapes me and I miss out on the things I enjoy most.
With my schedule, today becomes tomorrow and then days become weeks, and weeks turn into months. Next, the year has gone and half of my plans were forgotten, the rest were canceled because of work, and I missed the chance to see those I love most or enjoy my weekends.
As friends we say, “We’ll keep in touch,” and we try to. We really do. But the world gets in the way. Work becomes hectic and life has its minor casualties. It becomes so that months peel off the calendar, and I almost forget the last time I spoke to my closest friends. Continue reading →

Out of nowhere, the sky turned from sunshine into gray. Then suddenly, the rain came down in sporadic droplets until the sky opened up like a bucket of water pouring over our heads.
I watched the storm through a window beneath the second floor roof. The people scattered on Lexington Avenue, and within minutes, the sidewalks were empty of all its pedestrians.

I looked down from the window and watched the taxi cabs speed through the flooded streets with their windshield wipers swinging from left to right.
Three longhaired girls hid from the downpour inside the front vestibule of an office building across the street. Beside them, the coffee shop seemed crowded and the tables by the window were filled with people watching the storm and sipping over-priced coffee from an over-sized white mug. Continue reading →

The substance between you and me
is like wind beneath the gulls
as they hover over the ocean

….I like that

I like that I can sit back with you and be myself
I like that I’m thankful for random things
like the morning paper,
or a plain cup of coffee. Continue reading →

I watched a show about a man that bought a milk truck.
He changed the truck into a mobile kitchen,
and now he makes different types of grilled cheese sandwiches,
and he sells them throughout the streets of Boston.

According to the show, he does pretty well.
He seems happy too.

Before his truck, the man worked in an office.
He had a boss that complained and deadlines to meet.
He punched keys on a keyboard,
and  all day long,
his eyes were fixed to a computer screen as he calculated data
that was pertinent to the lives of others. Continue reading →

It was near sunset. I had walked across from my hotel room on Seville Street and sat on the short wall that separated the sidewalk from the beach on North Atlantic Boulevard.
An older man from the south noticed me. He smiled and asked, “You must be from New York?”
Smiling, I agreed with him.
The older man had tanned skin, salt and pepper hair with a matching colored goatee, and his face was slightly wrinkled.
He wore a blue baseball hat with an American eagle’s head surrounded by a series of golden stars. He wore a khaki pair of shorts and a crème-colored, buttoned down shirt, with short sleeves, and palm trees on the front. Continue reading →

The cold war comes after heartbreak.

Night falls into this sub-divided menu
whereas I could feel her if she decided to say yes
or we could coincide together like those who survive winter
and huddle our versions of emotion to create our own substance

 (Or warmth)

Relationships are an ongoing trade.
Wouldn’t you agree?

Some people give, some take, and some understand the cycle.
They do things like breathe out so that someone else can breathe in,
which is genius
if you’re not afraid to be trusting.

The truth is, I’ve always been a fan of love

When I was young, the way a girl smiled could dictate the direction of my day.
If nothing else, the way she smiled would at least determine my next idea.
Like say, imagining her in a flowing skirt, crossing her legs
and then dangling an open-toed shoe from the top of her right foot.

I call this mesmerizing…

Or like when she twirls strands of hair around her index finger
and looks off into nowhere with a semi-glossed smile

I call that intriguing…

I may have written this before, but I’ll write it again:
Man may very well hold the key to the universe
but women are the cylinder into which it turns….