She stood on the balcony of her suite with her hands spread out on the banister. Her palms faced down, as her eyes gaze out to the sunset, which fell slowly into the distant palm of the Caribbean Sea.
Her long white flowing dress was backless. Her long hair was pulled away from her face and tied back in a bun. She stood curious, watching the sky change as the large cruise ship headed south for destinations of white sand beaches and tall palm trees.
The wind blew passed and the Continue reading
From Letters From A Son: “IF”
I have been thinking a lot about the word, “If” lately.
“If,” is a supposition of something uncertain. That’s it.
“If,” means to suppose on a condition. Most times, “If,” means to suppose on a different set of conditions, which Continue reading
From Bedtime Stories for the Insomniac: Jail and the Metaphor
This is it . . .
The door closes in the sound of a terrible echo that slams shut down a long hollow corridor. This is the sound of justice ending its sentence with the painful sound of an exclamation point.
On the left side of the hallway is a tall concrete wall that reaches up to a series of frosted windows along the length of the hallway at ceiling height. The unclear windows are partially opened and tilted Continue reading
For Olivia
To Liv:
I have this small tiger near my desk in the loft of my home where I do most of my writing. He’s a small Bengal tiger with a green short-sleeved shirt that has red writing across the front. I keep it near me because this little guy means a lot more to me than just a little stuffed animal.
I know it sounds crazy . . . me being a grown man with a stuffed animal and all, but you’ll let me, I can explain why this little tiger has been with me for Continue reading
From The Daddy Diaries
Poem To My Punky:
You are older now
and time is different in the sense
that I still see you
as this little girl with wild,
curly-blonde,
frizzy hair.
I still see Continue reading
Sessions From The Balcony
Love In The Late 20’s
It was early morning on the roof of an East Side building facing the East River with the sun moving up above the buildings in Long Island City. The summer warmth was thick and the humidity was wet like a blanket.
A little plume of white smoke lifted from the industrial section of buildings across the into the orange colored sky. Uptown and Downtown, The West Side and East were all quiet in the hours of dawn’s first light.
I pulled a cigarette out of the Continue reading
From The Junkie Diaries
In the thick of it:
It was the beginning of summer in 1989. I was closing in on my 17th birthday. My friends and everyone I knew were off somewhere living life as teenagers should, and there I was, stuck on a job and wishing I was anyplace else. My hands and face were dirty with soot and grease. My long hair was matted with sweat after working in boiler rooms as an apprentice for The Old Man shop.
Inside my thoughts, I waited hours for that moment when that imaginary whistle screamed at 5:00pm. At last, the week Continue reading
A Letter To A Young Girl
Here it is another day and we’re back at it. It doesn’t seem fair does it? The time between then and now seems to slip by so quickly. And yet here we are, back in this place, and time seems to move so slowly.
I saw something this weekend that made me think of you. I woke early to take a long hike that ended with me at a Continue reading
Letters From a Son: About A Hike
I saw my first butterfly of the season last Thursday. It was mostly yellow with black dots and a black border around the edge of the wings. Strange though; I seldom see butterflies in the city—let alone 32 stories up on the roof of a commercial office building. Of course, I smiled when I saw the butterfly. I smiled because the timing was perfect.
Yesterday morning was an Continue reading
Growing Up
In the earlier days on Merrick Avenue, the neighbor would have her grandchildren come and stay with her for a few days throughout the summer. Both were military sons with a father in the army. Both were younger than me. The oldest grandchild was younger than my by two years and the youngest was younger than me by three years.
They were good kids. Different from most of the boys I knew; the two brothers were fun and lighthearted. Neither of them wa Continue reading
