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The Girl of my Dreams

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 →

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It works . . .

My friend Jack once told me, “Kid, the best revenge is good living.”

It was my last day in treatment and I followed through with the usual handshakes, farewell hugs, and the well-wishes that came from the other patients.
The morning flew by and my bags were already packed, but there was something stagnant about Continue reading →

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about depression

In the wake of a recent tragedy, I feel the need to explain some of my own darkness in order to shed some light on the effects of depression.
Depression is a mental virus or cancer that decays from within. I cannot pinpoint when my struggle began. I suppose it began when I was introduced to the classrooms at school.
This was where I learned about my differences from other people. This is when I realized I was different in size and strength. I learned about the different structures of popularity and I struggled to fit in.

But let me pause here . . .
Before I go on, I will explain that I am not licensed on this subject in any way. I am not a therapist or a doctor.
This is only an account of what happened to me and my survival. . .

At a young age, nothing seemed easy or reachable to me, and whatever did come Continue reading →

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prose: reflections and my friend the old tree

The other morning I woke and the sun was the brightest I had ever seen. Its yellow beams touched down, glistening through the trees and onto my street, which was still wet from the morning’s dew.
I stepped onto my front porch and the wind was perfectly still, which I interpreted to mean that I should be still, at least for the moment.

I live on a quiet street near the edge of my town. I say this town is mine, not only because Continue reading →

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Sunday’s Thought 8/10/2014

 

This will not be the first I mention size as it relates to time in my entries.
And I doubt it will be the last.
It is proven that our sense of time changes as we grow. Whereas, a year in my childhood was slow, a year in my adulthood passes too quickly.
Time changes as we grow in size, and so does our ability to relate to it. We learn about its intervals and its value. As we become older, we learn the true and sometimes painful fact that is time is irretrievable. Continue reading →

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Visitation Prose From The Tattooed Minister

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 →

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For Jake

And so today, the dawn of a young boy’s life has turned to twilight.
We asked for a miracle. And now, even in the fall of a young child’s moment, a miracle has come. A young boy that brought so many together and strengthened the true bond of love has passed this morning.
We followed him and we prayed. We prayed together with every ounce of strength, with every piece of energy, with all of hearts and all of our soul.
We expressed ourselves and did all that was within our power.

Before commencing his spirit, The Son of Man spoke from the cross.
He said, “It is accomplished.”
And in this case, it is accomplished that a child, so beautifully vibrant and Continue reading →

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A Quick Thought on Do-Overs

When I was three, I used to lay with my head propped on my dog, Sheba. Sheba was a big black lab. She would curl around me with my head comfortably resting on her side and I would share my chewing gum with her. I would chew it some. Then Sheba would chew. I have no memory of this. I know it happened because I was told it did, but I have very little memory of Sheba. When I grew older, say about five or six, Sheba ran away and she was hit by a car. She was hurt badly, but with Sheba being Continue reading →

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inventory and mental fitness

 

The morning commute is often the same . . .
Same people stand in their same spots on the platform to the railroad. They find themselves sitting near the same people in the same seats, and I am one of these people, moving into an already crowded train with hopes to find a seat, and clear my mind before my commute delivers me to the city.
I have maintained this commute for more than two decades, and on more than one of Continue reading →

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The sound of memory

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 →