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Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Monday, August 29, 2016
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Happy birthday to a man who continues to impact my life in ways I couldn't imagine. You make me question things and provide an impetus to deeper thought. Your quest for answers and knowledge defies your lunacy and your smile betrays the seriousness behind it. I am more than proud, I am more than impressed and more than excited to be a witness to the impact you all continue to have on the world that surrounds you. One world at a time. With love always...dadInstagram
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Somewhere in Time – Brooklyn
There was a full moon, clear dark blue sky with flashes of lights, shooting stars and time passing by. There was a lonely man in the window upstairs, I caught a glimpse of him just before the curtain fell. He wasn't alone, there was a shadow behind him, a silhouette of a woman, perhaps his wife or lover? He seemed lonely nevertheless.
There is a distinct aroma which pulsates through these blocks filled with mansions from another time and place. A cocktail of homemade cooking, trees and assorted flowers. A stray dog walks across the street, sounds of horse shoes hitting cobblestone, some whispers from people unseen and the sound of children playing somewhere in the distance. Ghosts abound - couples walking hand in hand in their Sunday finest. Soldiers home for the weekend catch their girls jumping into their arms. While the curtain in the window upstairs is untied. There was a reservoir once upon a time, right over there just across from the park. In the park a statue of Teddy Roosevelt stands upright and proud. Surrounding him are benches occupied by lovers - from the past and from today. An old man sits by himself, transistor radio, newspaper and pen in hand. He is listening to a baseball game from a long time ago. A poet sits alone on the grass and begins to write a letter to a lover he has yet to love. I dream of you and I can taste you when I close my eyes. Your soft skin, your lips and the aroma that your body releases cures me, your wet skin intoxicates me and the sound of your voice as you surrender to my love is what saves me. There was a full moon, clear dark blue sky with flashes of lights, shooting stars and time passing by. There was a lonely man in the window upstairs, I caught a glimpse of him just before the curtain fell. He wasn't alone, there was a shadow behind him, a silhouette of a woman, perhaps his wife or lover? He seemed lonely nevertheless. A young man walks alone, cigarette in his left hand, hat in his right. He has a satchel across his chest and he is coming home. Why does home seem so foreign? Why has nothing changed all the time he was in hell? Tommy, Ferreli, Grossman - all gone in front of his face. Exchanging jibes one second and blown to pieces the next. Why does this tree still stand? Why are there people laughing and going about their lives as if there is peace on earth? Where is the outrage? He turns around and heads back to the train station. He can't go back home again. Read more http://ift.tt/1hbPRfX
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Saturday, August 20, 2016
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Monday, August 15, 2016
Thursday, August 11, 2016
Fifty
We are writers, artists, creators of universes trying to describe emotions in words, pictures or tunes. We are the red-headed step-child sleeping late always giving in at night to the seductiveness of sleep and dreams. Trying to succeed in a world where you are confined, forced to conform and to blend into the background is like trying to fit an elephant into a mole’s burrow. After a while we begin to implode; first comes the sadness, then the restlessness, the loneliness, the anxiety of wanting to run while chained to a fence. As we try to adapt to the burrows in which we live - like the scarecrow in an abandoned farm - we slowly succumb to the bites, the sun and the rain. We wither away eventually becoming one with the wind and scattered across the fields.
Monday, August 08, 2016
In their inaugural season, the 29-81 Mets were mathematically eliminated from finishing in first place with their 7-5 loss to Los Angeles in Chavez Ravine on this day in 1962. After the game, New York manager Casey Stengel called a meeting and joked with his players that they could loosen up and relax now that they were out of the pennant race, which they promptly did, winning just eleven more games during the last two months of the season. ⚾️Instagram
Sunday, August 07, 2016
Friday, August 05, 2016
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