Words and Pieces

My friends and I put on an art show once or twice a year in a car garage located in a long alleyway of garages that stretches the length of one full block, from Coles Street to Jersey Avenue in Jersey City.  It's not the ideal place for an art exhibit but over the last 10 plus years we have made it work.  The days of the exhibits we hang up signs on the side walls of the buildings at each end of the alley to direct people our way.  We have never had an issue so I was caught by surprise this past weekend when a man came walking towards us in a huff saying "no, no, what are you doing?" to which I replied "we are having an art show today".  Honestly my immediate response was to be irritated because we'd been doing this for years and then the man says angrily "you never take them down" which made me a little more irritated because I know we always take our signs down.  So I had just a few seconds to put thought into it and said in a calm sort of way

This morning on my way to the train I was so very much in my head and became slightly annoyed because a couple was walking a bit too slow in front of me. See, it’s a NYC thing that I’ve unfortunately developed, walking fast and being unhappy when people are not walking at the same pace. We are all walking past a construction site and I make my move to go around them, then the woman lifts her arm, points and says loudly to her man friend “Look at the Hoe!” I thought it was amusing that she was excited by the site of a backhoe on a construction site so as I walked to their left I exclaimed “Who you calling a Ho?!” We all looked at one another and laughed a really good laugh. They were good sports, we had a moment, and I felt a tinge of guilt for faulting them for their slow walking. You never know how cool people really are until you give them a chance!

  This poem is dated September 3, 2015 in my journal and is about the making of lists.  I know, I know, it doesn't seem that exciting of a subject, does it?  It's one of those things in my life that is helpful but sometimes I wonder if it is just a waste of time?  Writing a list is easy enough but the hard part, for me, at least, is remembering I wrote the dang list or finding the list after I put it aside!  Thank goodness for the "notes" app on the iphone because I can make lists there when there is no paper!  I still tend towards the hand written lists and even though I've gotten better at putting them in places where they are easily found, some still fall into that void of doom where the single missing socks and earring backs disappear to...never to be seen again! Lists I make lists to try and remember  where my mind has been, lists to remember where my mind is suppose to go, and lists to remember that I wrote a list!

Straight jacket on, mad arms wrapped tightly. No wiggle room to express desperation. A balancing act for a stressed mind. Rivets made of plated metal hold a solitary position. Menace to self. High risk of failure. Added padding to emotional space. Eyes roll, muscle tension, a bellow forms at the heart, preparing for the lungs  to vent the pressure before blood boils. The scream halted at the throat, lump swallowed hard like the large pill of stress forced down dry. Life is crazy. A fine line sometimes between straight jacket and lucidity.

  This morning I check the weather app on my mobile to see what kind of jacket I should wear to work.  It's been a long, cold winter that has lasted well into April. One day it's sunny and warm then the next day you have to put your parka back on as the temperature drops 20 degrees, Ugh!  I'm hoping it's a warm weather day as the app opens and I see 50's and 60's.  I put on, what I call, my mid level jacket.  It's warm enough for some chill but light enough for fluctuating weather.  I leave the apartment and immediately feel hopeful as the sun warms my skin while shutting the apartment door behind me. I notice right away a lot of voices and look down the block to see a parade of teenagers, probably from the local high school. They must be doing some sort of mandatory drill this morning? The line of chattering young humans are walking parallel to me one block away so I increase my pace hoping I do not have to cross through their masses when I’m ready to turn

Today I found myself feeling very much deflated as I was getting ready for work. There were multiple reasons why I was feeling that way and quite frankly I just wanted to stay home in bed!  As I was trying to finish up my morning routine before jumping in the shower I saw my stack of journals sitting on the shelf and decided to pick up one to just take a quick look inside.  I'm not sure why, maybe to wallow a little bit more or possibly to find a little inspiration?  With my writings it could go either way.  So I pick up the top journal, open it up,  and the place I land on is the page where I wrote a poem back in 2007 called "Deflated" !  I kid you not!  It's so weird how the wavelengths of the Universe line up sometimes!  Maybe someone else needs to read this today and not feel alone?  I'm with you friends, feel free to leave comments if you can relate.   Deflated I feel like a deflated balloon trying to float. No strings attached if you can help me

A poem dedicated to our friend Donna Georgio who we lost way too soon on April 5, 2018.  My condolences to her family and friends near and far.  She was a rock star in my book and she will be missed terribly.  If anyone wants you can make a donation to the American Brain Tumor Association in her memory. Donna(middle) photo by Adrian Shepard Your Place In Our Hearts The air seems different now that you are gone. The current whispers your name and spreads the news of your soul’s departure. Time seems to click by slower, a slow motion drama that we are all unwilling participants in. Words don’t come as easily to speak of our loss but feelings of having known you stumble out easily bringing tears and a sense that things will never be the same. That is the way it is when a light goes out. We must stand still in the dark and wait for our eyes to adjust, for our hearts to reconcile, to comprehend reasoning that you are no longer he