If I am to find myself,
then I will have to search in places
which I have never seen
nor ever dared to look.
Just a Thought, Just Because – Exposed, In Four Verses
1)
There is an ongoing idea that stems from my youth
which is still as true now as it was to me then.
I have always been this – me
Just a Thought, Just Because – This Was My First Time
This was my first time . . .
I was hired for a special police initiative
Rather than arrest, process and jail,
they hired someone like me – a specialist –
to direct the person to treatment
to offer help or hope instead of going back
to more of the same.
Just a thought, Just Because – Read Between the Points
- Life comes with different moments
that are inconsistent with truth, time
or sanity.
Yet, life unfolds in moments,
like heartbeats that pound out-loud,
like a lump in your throat
when the suspense is too thick
Life can be like looking down the barrel of a gun
sometimes . . .
the villain is bearing down,
looking to take the shot.
Just a Thought, Just Because – Four Verses by the Hudson
1)
More than my fascination for the twilight
and more than my appreciation
for the nighttime sky above Manhattan
and more than how I dig the moon
when it hovers above us and shines over the Hudson,
or when in mid- summer,
maybe late July or close to August,
when the days are long and the nights are hot
in more ways than one;
I recognize this as a limited window of time.
Just a Thought, Just Because – Write on Poet
1)
My guess is this –
It’s safe to say that my journey began a long, long time ago.
Or, perhaps I should say it this way –
A long time ago, in a lifetime, far, far away; a great story took place.
And me, I am this story.
I was living in a time of youth and confusion.
I was swept up in the different ideas of truth and distraction.
I was in the middle of misunderstandings.
Safe to say that I was searching.
I was looking for life or what it means to be real and alive.
Somewhere in the mix of life and music,
I found myself in the center of my rebellions.
I was in the middle of commotion.
Memories From the Balcony – In Closing
I figure here is as good a place as any. Today, right now.
I figure I can end this one here with you and leave it at this because today is a celebration.
Today’s an acknowledgement. It’s a day of achievement, yet today is a heavy memory as well.
Now is a good time to find another topic. Now is a good time to start another chapter which is something I’ve been doing consistently for a very long time.
My hopes are to move above and beyond myself. I have told you so much about my life and myself. To be clear, without you or this place and without this stage or platform, I really don’t know where I would be.
Memories From the Balcony – The Ability to Just . . . Walk Away
Sometimes, you have to be lost to get found.
Or maybe you’ll never know about what’s missing until one day, you find something in this world. You see something that you can’t live without. Maybe this happens all the time or perhaps this only happens once in a while.
Or, maybe this only comes once in a lifetime. Maybe –
I can say that, yes, we all have our times and our moments. I can say that life is like the tides of the ocean, rising and falling, coming in and then rushing out.
I can say that the world is truly cosmic and alive. There are also times when the night is quiet and the sky is filled with stars.
You can see this too, but differently; as if something inside you is awake now and yearning for something more. Of course, I say this with the emphasis on MORE . . .
Memories From the Balcony – Insomnia Prose
Get ready. This is neither good nor bad no in-between.
This is a ramble of thoughts without direction. But at least, this is from the heart,
Sure, I’m frustrated sometimes. Who isn’t?
It is zero, four hundred hours and the hours of sleep have escaped me once more.
I am somewhere else, yet I am here, of course.
I am where I have been for such a long time. Only, this uniform doesn’t seem to fit me anymore.
Which means I’ve outgrown this.
It’s time to find a new suit . . .
Continue readingMemories From the Balcony – My Room
There’s only a few more days left before I close this journal. But before I go, I wanted to go back to where my so-called life began.
I can still see it, my first real bedroom.
I can see what it looked like the last time I left. I remember the way it was all empty yet there was something still in there. Maybe it was me.
Maybe this was the memories of my youth. Whatever it was, I could feel this inside of me.
The Written Addiction 