A Writer grows in Brooklyn

The junkyard melody plays softly with a passion once felt, a long long time ago. They put you out to pasture and forgot about your past. The ticking of the clock gets louder with each passing moment. The relevancy of who you are, who you were and who you never can be; lost in the shadows of this junkyard in the city. Walk towards the discarded record player and the scratched records. Place one on…

Another day on the F train turns into a 95-degree mess. The sun doesn’t shine in the subway stations—yet. George Harrison wrote, “Here comes the sun,” but this past winter has felt like a long, cold, lonely one. Standing on the Hoyt Street platform waiting for the A or C, I find myself thinking about just running away. There is a pretty, well-dressed woman standing next to me. I smile at her.…

I’ve been writing. Quietly, consistently, the way I’ve always done it — one word at a time, one story at a time.If you’ve been away for a while, welcome back. If you’ve been here all along, thank you. Either way, I wanted to reach out personally and share a few pieces that mean something to me.Here’s what I’ve been working on:Of Time, Love and…

We take so much for granted. The people around us we treasure, we forget how quickly, the sights, the sounds, the aroma of her, the feel of her skin, the taste…That first cup of coffee in the morning, that sense of excitement for a new day, the evenings with a full moon and the sounds of summer. The sound of a snowstorm blowing through the trees, the silence that follows. The diamond and the…

Music has always been a vital part of my life—a way to express my mood or navigate my feelings at any given time. While I appreciate the wordless genius of John Coltrane and Duke Ellington, I’ve always been drawn to lyrics. I grew up on a steady diet of Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, The Beatles, and Elton John. The Backdrop of Brooklyn I was born in 1966 in Brooklyn, New York, arriving smack in…

She stares…at nothing in particular. Focused on thoughts, fears and memories. He shakes and shouts…at this world gone wrong. Focused on the negativity that can drown a whale. She drinks her tea, he drinks his coffee. He sees her from across the room, somehow he is calmed. He walks towards her, throws an embrace and kisses her head. “A penny for your thoughts?”“A penny? How about ten dollars a…

When he was a young man…He could hit a softball further and harder than anyone on the block, or so he said.He used to dress like a movie star and walk the streets like he owned them. He used to talk loud and laugh louder. Singing with the boys on the side of the old school, flirting with the girls on Ocean Parkway. He used to smile and light up every room he walked into. He would fight for people…

The spotted lanternfly is an invasive insect from Asia that feeds on the sap of over 70 plant species, including important crops and trees. It damages plants by weakening them and excreting a sticky “honeydew” that promotes the growth of a black sooty mold, posing a significant threat to agriculture and forests. (As per Gemini AI) I compare the lanternfly to the destruction of terrorism and the…

I still smile, yet the sense of any humor seems dull.Tears don’t fall, yet they well up in my heart.After ten seven went from being a score in a game to the beginning of loss, I can’t shake this darkness which has descended.A plague of hatred has become all the rage these days, just like those days before.Red hats, black hats, keffiyehs and halos each carry a judgemental spirit which only knows…

Numb and number. A cloud, childhood, gold, lust and a soft breeze. A wave, a glance, a song coming from a passing car. Shooting stars, time…Running in place, emotions I have forgotten long ago. Locked up and open.Sailing through time going through motions, numb and number, emotions I cannot share. A poem with no rhymes, emotions lost in time. Time devoured by lost and forgotten emotions. Numb and…

As time passes we try to not take for granted the truths which should be embraced.In the era of my lifetime, 8 have seen countless senseless deaths in the name of a god of hatred. Even more so since October 7th.Too many children, parents, sons and daughters, stolen from their world while the thieves of hearts chant that their god is great. Too many college and other young well meaning not as…

Just like that, in the wink, blinkor crimp of an eye.. We walk straight, but with a bit of a limp. We think we are still really young, but secretly we can tell the difference. We listen to new songs, but we feel a warm embrace with the old ones. We need reading glasses to see writing even if our lives depended on it. The world is upside down, broken and bankrupt, yet the beauty remains. The…