Lay Your Hands On Me

City Scene

And the night opened to me without hesitation, showing me its seedy underbelly with a Strangelove I’m unfamiliar with. Speaking with newfound eloquence, I accept its invitation

Inebriated crusted hipsters pirouette shamelessly through red lighted districts, flaunting their lack of inhibition without fear of ramification. Remembering Youth, envious, I gaze upon them with a fevered jealousy I didn’t know I possessed

Negro jazz wafts up through hardened concrete and glass alike with its improvised falsetto keeping pace with the accelerated pulse of the city. Max’s drums, Miles’ trumpet, Monk’s piano, playing just for me or so I liked to believe…

Street lights wink, shimmer and glow through the evening acting as stars, illuminating the path for those who dare traverse out into the obsidian of night. Some as close as my eyes, some as distant as broken dreams, they lead me effortlessly further into nigh...

Boy Afraid

Boy Afraid

That gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach

That weight upon your brow

That pain and hollowness in your heart

Those long, sleepless nights that plaque you a minimum of three times a week

That persistent and annoying voice in your head you hear in the evening and morning

That ever present feeling that nothing is ever going to be right in the world with you and with you truly believing it

Anxiety strangling…

When the food taste bland

When the wine is sour, insipid

When the cold slithers in and chills you to your very core

When you can’t stand the light of day, preferring to live in constant midnight

When the reflection that stares back at you from the mirror bows its head down in shame

Anxiety sapping…

It depletes your health, you being sicker than you’ve ever felt

It cripples ...

The Old Man in The Cafe

The years have not been kind to him. No, he has suffered mentally and physically more than most, wearing his hurt and pain on his face and shoulders like some mock badge of courage for all to see. Eyes stained red from stress and fatigue with a tell-tale scar above his right eye from a boating accident he was in when he was ten, he stares across the café at the others who are enjoying their coffee and company, totally oblivious to him. At his age, it no longer bothered him that he goes unnoticed; he’s used to that. Better to be not seen and heard then to be a nuisance or frowned down upon for being loud. He has learned this the hard way. In his younger years, he was prone to drinking and mischief, not caring about his actions or words and how they affected those around him. This is why he is alone now; having burned every bridge and crossing everyone he has come in contact with.

He had a woman, a good woman who loved him with all her heart. He had met her w...

Ode To An Old Man

This probably will never reach my father but I feel I need to say it.

I love you.

Always have, always will.

If you only had a clue to how much I am exactly like you. I use my dirty underwear to blow my nose with after a shower.

I use salt and pepper on everything even though my food honestly doesn't need it.

I definitely inherited your temper and foul mouth.

My work ethic is the same as yours. I remember all those long impossible hours of work you put in to make a way for your family. It didn't go unnoticed. I would have liked you around more...

I snore to wake the dead just like you do.

I am a loner but have a very small circle of people who I associate with; something I remember you doing as well.

I love my music and damn if anyone cannot appreciate it! I remember you playing those damn Marvin Gaye and Otis Redding 45's over and over again on Sunday mornings and swearing to God that I would NEVER listen to ...

Cognizance of the J Line

I’m in desperate need of a good scrubbing from the night before, yet I don’t let that deter me from the task at hand. The dried puke, the rancid smell of fresh urine coupled with the waste and old food tracked in on the soles of peoples shoes have left me worse for wear. I wish they would take better care of me...

My few permanent residents have totally not recognized my generosity. Don’t I keep them safe and somewhat comfortable when in the upper world they would be out on the streets and vulnerable to the elements? Selflessly, I accept them. Within my bosom, in the heart of me I hold them, without passing judgment, without hesitation. They are my children, my darling lost souls. Sleep well. Bodies rocked gently by my chug, chug, chugging through the boroughs, my engines and brakes soothing there troubled minds and bodies with calming white noise. Let me take care of you, if only for a short while.

The gum has become a permane...

Lonelyes Man Chronicles: A Moistening of Text

                                              A Moistening of Text

I’m up once again at an ungodly hour with thoughts of you depriving me of much needed sleep. I sit up at my desk, pen in hand trying in vain to put something, anything to paper to express how I am feeling at this precise moment, but nothing comes to mind. Listening to Morrissey lament over lost love isn’t helping matters. I’ve come to the conclusion that I can no longer handle this longing for you, this need to have you close to me, filling a void created oh so many years past…

Can you hear my heart screaming out in the night? Can’t you feel my love for you on the eve of yet another day without you? The question of you remains emblazoned on my mind despite my efforts to ignore it. You are so far away from me. A weaker man may have crumbled un...

Heartbroken: Cursed

                                                   Cursed

Blurry, out of focus, my eyes strain to see through the thickness of eternal sadness

Silhouettes and shapes, phantoms and ghost of would be people parade around me

We take no notice of one another; just forms swirling among the masses, bound by loneliness, bound by pain, bound by sorrow

Aimlessly adrift, no destination charted, no plans laid out before me now that love has left me

Time ceases to exist, as I have nothing but time

Night becomes my ally as I curse the daylight and the false hope it brings

My heart, my poor heart, burdened with stress, fatigued from emotional duress, fragmented by heartache, never to be whole again

Unable to pump the blood of life through the collapsed veins within the shell of ...

A Cruel Teasing of the Heart

                                           A Cruel Teasing of the Heart

Another sleepless night underneath the stars. The kind that makes all the sounds around you become amplified by ten. Time stands still solidifying the evening which actually is early morning. The longing for love squeezes at your heart, a physical pain that you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. It cripples you, curls you up in the fetal position like a colicky newborn, crying for what you cannot have.

The look of love.

The eye contact  between two potential lovers. Hints of promise beamed to each other simultaneously. A smile encompassed in a stare.

That first physical contact: the holding of hands. Fingers entwined signifying unity. Solidarity. Leaning in cautiously, carefully, the two draw closer together. It's as if some unseen bar...

Blue In Greg

Blue In Greg

Man, the blues crept in unbeknownst to me, turning my sideways world upside down overnight. They took up residency without even asking and have stayed ever since. Suckers ain't even offered to pay rent! So it’s been me and the blues for as long as I can remember; the only constant thing in my life. I’ve had and lost money; easy come, easy go. I’ve been lonely; I’ve been loved, mostly lonely. I’ve had my highs and my lows but the blues have always been present, hiding around the corner, waiting to ambush me at the first given opportunity.

What do I mean by the blues, you ask? I’m talking about those hard blues: the ones that keep you up all night tossing and turning, making you tired in the morning even though your eyes were closed for hours. The ones that make you cry for the love that walked out of your life, never to return. The ones that have you perched on a barstool, head in ha...

Lay Your Hands On Me

Lay Your Hands On Me

I have never been as lonely as I am now.

As I lay on my bed listening to the deafening silence, this is a fact that has become all too true.

I miss you.

Plain and simple.

I miss the noise you bought into my life, cancelling out all this silence that surrounds me now, breathing life into this once listless life of mine.

I miss your crooked smile, warming me through all the months of January, reassuring me that all is well in the world.

I miss the way my hands would swallow yours when I held it. We always laughed about that.

I miss your laugh, that giant laugh of yours that when others heard it they couldn’t help but stare your way and smile.

Your kisses, your tongue, your body. No need for me to elaborate on any of them, is there? They go without saying.

I miss the way you ate, taking every bite as if it were your last, savoring each morsel with s...