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verses

verses

1)

It is too late to recapture the first moments when laughter was less expensive and the nights along Bleeker Street were punctured by the first signs of daybreak.
Besides, most of the stores have changed now. They no longer translate to say, me amidst my wild longhaired days of confusion and you in your short skirts, fishnets, and Doc Martin steel-tip boots.

Same as we have grown, so have the avenues. same as we have aged, the streets have changed, and all the remains are the memories of St Mark’s and a diner called Stingy Lulu’s.

It seems even then, I knew I would meet you. I just didn’t know how or when.
I knew you though….
I knew you existed because I thought of you often and wondered if you thought of me.

I once wrote to you, but I never had the tongue to share it.
I wrote:

If I listen, I can hear you in my thoughts.
And if I look, I can see you in my dreams and behind the walls of my eyelids.
But I only hope the day comes soon
…and I can hold you in my arms forever.

This was the poem I used to describe you.
I knew who you were, but yet, I never saw your face. I knew how you would sound, but yet, I never heard your voice.
I knew how I would feel as soon as I saw you, but I wondered for too long, and I grew impatient. Continue reading →

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institutionalized

I am writing this specifically to you…..

During the last angry lecture from The Old Man, he told me, “Sometimes I think it would be easier if you just committed suicide. It sure as hell would be easier than watching you kill yourself like this.”
According to The Old Man’s account, I dragged my feet when I walked. I barely opened my mouth when I spoke, and as I spoke, my words dragged slowly as if my brain were permanently relaxed from my drug use.

“I swear it would be easier if you killed yourself. At least this way your mother and I could hurt and then we could heal….but watching you do this to yourself is worse than watching you die.”

I was no longer their innocent little boy. My skin color was Continue reading →

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junkie poetry

And then………everything changed.
Reality took on a new shape and its old form crumbled away
like a body of ashes in the wind.

I found myself in familiar territory.
I felt the oncoming shake of awareness,
and I knew it wouldn’t be long
It wouldn’t be long until the inevitable took hold, and again,
I would find myself turning in the low-end of a vicious cycle.

As the bag emptied, I could feel the anxiety begin to stir.
It moved in, and I could feel the anguish coming on like a storm from the distance.

I lost…
I lost the way water loses to a drain.
All I could do was sink through the funnel
until there was nowhere left for me to spill.

But this is how it is with addiction.
I knew the mental sickness was on its way.
I knew my insanity had reached its flashing point,
and more, I knew it was only a matter of time
until there was nowhere left to turn.
The high would run out, and eventually,
even denial had a way of meeting its own reflection.

The last spoonful was gone
and all that remained were the tiny whispers,
which screamed in my head
and the ongoing need,
which brought me to my knees.

I was facing the early morning hours after a long binge,
and with nothing left to satisfy the demons,
I crawled along the planks of my hardwood floor,
searching for one last piece of sanity….
but there was none.

Every little crumb, or speck that appeared on my floor
looked like a tiny white flake—and each white flake
teased me like a mirage teases the stranded.

These are the illusions of cocaine’s aftermath…
My heartbeat thumped. My stomach turned and growled.
My skin was pasty white and my eyes were charged
like an amplified zombie.

No matter how I tried,
I could not stop my jaw from grinding
or moving back and forth.
I could not stop the mad thoughts from feasting on my sanity,
and I could not stop the horrible flow of adrenaline
from coursing through my bloodstream.

The lofty high I tried to capture was mirrored by an incredible low,
which in turn, frayed my nerves
as if every sense and muscle was flexed beyond capacity.

In this case, all anyone wants is a piece of redemption.
In my case, that redemption came in a tiny envelope or plastic bag.

This is the part of addiction I was warned about.
But to me, it wasn’t a warning.
It was more like temptation.

In my experience,
the devil never comes ugly:
He comes in the forms of beautiful chaos:
lying on the way in
…and telling truths on the way out.

In my experience,
the devil’s greatest trick isn’t what he says you should do
it’s what he says not to….

All I can say now is thank God I’m sober~

 

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about now

After a long weekend shift, I washed my hands from the dust and dirt. I splashed water across my face, and after losing the best hours of sunlight, I changed from my work clothes and locked the shop’s door behind me. At least for that moment, I was happily uninvolved with my job. For that moment, I turned the key to lock the top lock of the engineer’s locker-room, and after I placed my hand beneath the scanner to prove my work hours, I left the day behind and drove home.
I drove through the city streets, waiting on pedestrians that cross the street regardless to oncoming traffic. Then I ducked beneath the Midtown Tunnel and came out on the other side.
The day was beautiful—however, I spent most of it with various contractors, running from one part of an office building to another.
But finally…springtime arrived.
The warm winds allowed us a glimpse of what to expect. In no time at all, the summer will be here and our side of the hemisphere will enjoy the chance to dress less and show more skin.
I like that Continue reading →

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about a fire

I used to light fires….

I am not sure how old I was the first time this happened, but in the crazy atmosphere of youth fueled by substance abuse, I often found myself hiding from the wreckage of my behavior.
I had to switch friends and change the places I would go to avoid a beating. But inevitably, I found myself alone.
At 14 I was removed from my junior high school and placed in an alternative school for students that struggled in regular, classroom settings. The school itself was a transformed barn, located in the heart of a picturesque campus of a nearby college, and surrounded by specimen trees, rolling landscapes, horses, and it was attended by Continue reading →

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eight years

Essentially, I am only eight years-old. I say this because of a decision I made eight years ago. And the decision was simple.
It was to say the words, “Never again.”

At the age of 33, I came to a crossroads. I came to a place where I had nothing left behind me. There was nothing in front of me and there was no one to my left or to my right. I had very little as far as clothing or possessions and my bank account was mostly empty. Aside from financially, I found myself Continue reading →

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age of awareness

I suppose we had our moment in the sun. I suppose in our youth, we had our chance to dress like kings when we stepped from the doors of our learning institutions and into the world, which we thought would be easy.
We howled and we laughed. We lived as hard and as loud as we could, and from there, we slowly trickled into our places in society.
We found our new directions and said we would always keep in touch. Then we dressed Continue reading →

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Sunday morning, April 6, 2014

Sunrise came to close out the week and officially put Sunday on the books. And since this is my one day off, and regardless to my tax appointment before the looming deadline of April 15, I have no choice but to follow my usual routine, arm myself with a cup of coffee, and enjoy the day.
s backyard. I suppose this means Continue reading →