Veterans Day November 11, 2014

America,

I have not forgotten you or what you mean to me. I have not forgotten the dignity that waves in your stars and stripes. I have not forgotten your losses or your gains.
I have not forgotten the damage we have sustained by our own mistakes as a society and as a government. I have not forgotten the land, which I love, or those who have fallen so that I may stand on the ground where I am and call it, “My own.”

America,

I will not listen to the conservative or the liberal; I will not focus on the Continue reading

The Time We Serve

And so it begins . . .
In seconds, the world will change
and I alone can rearrange my footsteps
to dictate the direction of my future

In seconds,
Now will have passed and grow further from the moment
In seconds, today will be tomorrow
and if I do nothing then nothing will be different.

If I do nothing,
then I will be nothing more than a man trying to serve his time
while sinking into the quicksand of complacent failures
and wondering,
“Where did I go wrong?”

The crowd inside of the union hall was filled with out of work men with out of work attitudes and out of work faces. Most of them are not hirable—which is why they are out of work. They sit in the chairs, or stand around, waiting for either of the delegates to step from the doorway and call out a name. And each morning, they arrive Continue reading

Coming Home

The hours of sunlight change as we move into the winter months. The winds grow colder and even the brightest sun in the clearest skies will eventually lose its warmth. But I don’t mind. I like this time of year.

Saturday evening and I arrived home after a long, overtime shift. The sun had already fallen by the time I reached my driveway. I could see the inside lights of my Continue reading

The Old Man of the Sea

A man stood on the shore with his feet in the shallow water. He flipped the spool over on his fishing reel, tagged the line to the upper butt of his fishing rod with his pointer finger, and then the man tossed his line outward to bounce in the ripples of the bay.
The sun beat down across his salt and pepper hair. His skin was tanned and the sun glistened against his chest. The sunlight glimmered against the shine of his gold wedding ring, and overhead, seagulls turned in the light blue sky.
To the man’s left, a young boy stood Continue reading

there is a difference . . .

The difference between the right to die and suicide is the same as the difference between dignity and sadness. The right to die is a decision based upon terminal illness, as well as the body’s failure, and torment of inevitable pain.
The decision also considers the suffering, not only of the sick, but of their loved ones.
However, suicide is much different than this . . .

In the afternoon heat of a mid-August day, I stormed out of a group counseling session. I passed the other concerned patients in the live-in drug treatment facility. I passed my primary counselor that waved me over to inform me of our one-on-one session, and I stormed up the steps to the room where I slept.
The facility was Continue reading

jailhouse

 When I hear the sound of heavy heels
clapping against a hard tiled floor,
I connect it with the sound of jingling keys
and barred doors that won’t open
from the inside.

I think of the 3 a.m. drunken disorderly
and how they howl about their rights
after vomiting in a stainless steel toilet.

I Think about the small cell and the hard wooden bench
I think of the youngsters, or the first Continue reading

The Blue Collar and Luke

I start my day by looking at a blank page on a computer screen. Often times, I sit in the dark with nothing else but the dull light from my monitor to brighten the room. My day begins like this; my day begins with an empty page and I wonder what I might fill it with when it ends.

I work in an industry where if you ask, nearly everyone says they are the best at what they do. If they are not the best, then most say they are very good.
But fingers point and the blame rolls downhill. I work in a place where Continue reading

An older short poem

She smiles sometimes and I believe this defies you.
To you, this is the worst kind of smile
because it proves you’ve lost what you once stole,
and that makes you angry,
doesn’t it?.

She smiles, and I wonder if you believe her smiles are real,
because after all; how could she smile if you are not around,
am I right?

But I was wondering . . .
Do you think you would regret the things you did
if she never walked away?
Or would your lies somehow turn clean
and the past would be the past.
You could go on being you
and she could go on being exactly what you need her to be
. . . . by any means necessary
Continue reading

a speaking experience

 

Daybreak comes . . .
. . . and suddenly
the early sunlight filters through the trees,
which have been growing for generations,
and constantly changing from one season to the next.
(Just like us)

You know, it’s not too much to ask for. . . . if you think about it
Each morning, a new day comes
to settle the affairs of yesterday’s mishaps,
which eventually return if we fail to change our steps
(Or learn from our history)

I suppose we all have our own seasons that change us.
We all have our own private daybreaks and sunsets.
And it makes sense . . . . if you think about it
One is a chance to end another chapter,
and the other is a chance to start something new –

 

The bus picked us up in Queens and took us onto the island. I passed through a series Continue reading