Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Disenguous Jesters
In the distance, like disingenuous church bells they ring loud, strong and untrue. The hands on the cities clock, they turn with a pulsating beat, strangling the life from time and expectations
False Jester's in the park as the music plays way too loud, the sounds of nature are being drowned out by the celebrations of distraction. Lone rose sits silently on the curb, it's petals spread around it, claiming to be a decoration or a declaration of surrender. Hear the battle cries, see the men crawl, across this rose garden in the fall, where the flag still hangs upon a rusted pole overlooking nowhere. Man walks smoking a cigar, it's half chewed and barely lit. It's aroma stays close to the dirt ground, where the fallen lovers lie helplessly stoned by loves ugly cousins. Soil, damp and grassy knolls, in the distance you cringe each time you hear the broken bells toll. In the distance, like disingenuous church bells they ring loud, strong and untrue. The hands on the cities clock, they turn with a pulsating beat, strangling the life from time and expectations. Lone spectators speculate about the why's and how's of rivers. As the river runs through the park, the hearts and the peeling bells ring on and on… Symmetrical brothers separated by circumstance and excuses, promise in blackness to always be there through rain and through sunshine. They shake hands and embrace, turn away and all is lost. Jester's in the park, they dance, juggle and romance their way into the false hearted dealers of hearts and clubs. When will it begin this rapid end of despair? It will melt once the sun comes ’round again. Just another description of the scenes that play out in front of me. As time goes by. #tuesdaythoughts #picoftheday #photooftheday #poem #poetryInstagram
Monday, February 26, 2018
Sunday, February 25, 2018
It's an abyss, like an empty neverending well. Cool air, dank smell of rain swept city streets. Queens walk the streets of Brooklyn, parading up the Kings Highway saluting the princesses of doom. A lone blind guitarist sitting on an empty container, playing the blues and recanting lyrics hidden in his heart, in a hidden chamber, there is a hidden feeling of shame, regret and faithless fear. Preacher stands upon a wooden crate, “He who has lead us out of the desert and set us free, remind me of the answers and the questions of what to do with me.” Clouds bursting into the room, searching for a stranger, but no rain falls and no stranger has called. Limitless agony disappears and is forever numbed. By a faith once forgotten, now explained. I used to be funny when the smiles weren't so hard to find. Now I still smile easy but I think my humor has gone. Trains creaking, squeaking their way across the Manhattan Bridge. Lost man sleeping, his hood covering his face, bottle rolling by his feet. He's dreaming of sunshine and his woman Shari. She left him when his anger was too heavy to carry. He doesn't blame her, doesn't curse her and he never raised a finger. Just sat in his corner cursing life and all of the winners. Strange plastic idiots, screaming and wailing their tunes. Speaking loudly about concessions and how ends come too soon. Foolish theaters, serious performers singing songs about historical love. Speaking in words that only Bill could explain and love. Castanets, wooden shoes and tambourines. Unrelenting waves of sounds disturbing your dreams. That's ok, though, that's all right. No more time for dreams, no more time for dreams. Leave them for the night. Time, passes, you know the songs. Words have evaporated, disappeared, they are all just gone. Colors, blue, red and green, exploding into stars and falling upon the scene. Disturbing that man sleeping waking up to still be confused about what this all means. It's just some words, just several rhymes I strung together to pass the time. Thank you for reading, thank you for reading... @photo_lab_app #photo_lab_app #sunday #colors #poetry #poemoftheday #live #love #thesecretInstagram
Friday, February 23, 2018
Gathering of raindrops, window frosted and the horizon foggy. The clock says 932 but deep down inside you know that cannot be true. Long distance salutations, questions and congratulations. Lost along this cascade of apologies is the heart of the matter. I glance to my left, she is my auburn haired soul mate. I've let you down, I let them down, I let myself fall down. But I always get up. Surrounded by the spirit and the strength of hope and faith. The best is yet to come... The best is yet to come... #shabbatshalom #remember #love #tgif #picoftheday #poemoftheday @photo_lab_app #photo_lab_appInstagram
Thursday, February 22, 2018
My Worst Date
"Freddy, how are you doing?" Hearing her voice conjured memories of sex in the stairwells where we both worked, bathroom sex in restaurants, and rooftop sex in the middle of a rain storm. What the voice did not bring back to mind was the lunacy and evil, wicked scenes we played out in her apartment or on a bench in Central Park when she scratched my face.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
Without self love, hatred will cause the erosion of all humanity. Without self acceptance, the practice of rejection will overwhelm any sense of decency. The path we are on will only lead to destruction. We see it on the news, read it in the papers and experience it face to face. True change can only begin within our selves. #change #nomorehatred #saveourchildrenInstagram
Thursday, February 15, 2018
We have failed. My generation have failed to improve the world. We have made it worse. Growing up we went to school feeling safe. Maybe not from the cliques or the ridicule which can debilitate a person. But the last thing we ever thought about was a shooting. There were the bullies, the outcasts and the darkened souls. They were mostly cowards hiding behind angry faces, words and fighting to compensate for their social shortcomings or insecurities. We were told to ignore them. We learned to ignore them. “Turn the other cheek. “ “Make love not war.” “He’s a loser and he is jealous of you - let it go.” The bullies, the outcasts and the darkened souls have graduated. Instead of the schoolyard during lunch, or after school, they walk the halls with automatic rifles or semi-automatic rifles - which are military grade. They shoot randomly or perhaps they shoot at the students who dared ignore them. The bullies, the outcasts and the darkened souls are glorified with pictures of them along with biographies and the spread of their hatred throughout the world - forever etched into history. Accusations of “Mental Illness” are cast as if that is the reasoning for the actions. In the United States over 48 million people suffer from mental illness. Are they all carrying AR-5’s and shooting up the hallways or concert halls? The NRA members and the ones who will post long social media diatribes on the importance of the second amendment. The second amendment never meant for the citizens to be equipped with assault weapons that could kill 50 people in 50 seconds. There is no safety in the classrooms, in concert halls, theaters or on the streets. Planes, trains, automobiles, knives, guns and bombs - among the latest weapons of choice in this world. We have failed to provide a safe environment for our children. We must stop to point fingers at the government, the NRA, the Mental Health industry or the parents of the murderers. Point the fingers at ourselves - we have failed. We must do better. We must do better. #parkland #marjorystonemandouglas #senselessInstagram
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
Standing, running, walking then running over to the other side to stand, straight, again. The old world is setting and the new one is about to begin. It's been hard and wars have been fought and won. Time to be happy after all that we have overcome. Bridges and rivers, tunnels and bays, coffee shops and lonely nights for the young boy in the corner. Airplanes and motorcycles, damp streets shining in the night. Reflections from the stars, perpetual lights that have come and gone, sort of like that old man who once walked this highway, the lights have faded but the reflection lives on. Storefronts, classrooms and beauty parlors. Paint shops, passports and groove to that music. Shaking, rattling and rolling towards her embrace. Bridges and front porches, passages and rhymes. They bring out the fear in us, as does the best of times. Romantic music, muted but the volume is set high. All you need to do is push the right buttons and you'll begin to understand the what's and the why. Drought is almost over, the clouds are gathering up above, take my hand now and let's walk together my love. Strangers, family and lovers all exchange glances and bottles of wine. It's a new world, time to have some good times. #newday #poemoftheday #Dumbo #nyc #Brooklyn #timetocelebrate #thebestishereInstagram
Monday, February 12, 2018
Sunday, February 11, 2018
The Mountain and the Lava
It begins with an exhale and a look away. Pursing of the lips and then the lava begins to flow over. The shaking of the land, like the clapping of the hands brings on an eruption that is catastrophic to all the living who dare to try and survive.
I didn’t want to kill him. Well, let me rephrase that. Deep down inside I wanted to kill him, but knowing what the consequences would be if I did kill him, I held myself back. It was that condescending voice, that booming anger building in up inside of him that would send out the first warning that an eruption was coming. It begins with an exhale and a look away. Pursing of the lips and then the lava begins to flow over. The shaking of the land, like the clapping of the hands brings on an eruption that is catastrophic to all the living who dare to try and survive. A beautiful mountain, but the smoke is always there – sometimes invisible but the aroma of the brimstone reveals its existence. Just because something seems so beautiful doesn’t always define its true nature. That gold up on the hill – its filled with lava which will imprison you to the flow of the fire forever. Ain’t no turning back… So, its not like I wanted to kill him, its just that I needed to. Deep down inside everyone wanted to do it, I just lost my cool and let it all out at one time. Now I am imprisoned by these walls and these bars – but somehow I feel free for the first time in a long time. #poemoftheday #murder #innocent #insanity #lovekills #lovebreathesInstagram
Saturday, February 10, 2018
Scenes from an old coffee shop in Coney Island where we used to go…too much sugar in that small cup made your tongue taste sweeter than it should have. It must have been me, must have been my fault. I had no idea, I had no clue – I still have no idea and have no clue – but I can act the part and write the lines myself. Pull the needle from the record, we’ve heard that song too many times. Pull the string from the ceiling and let the light turn on. Here comes the sun, here comes the sun… #coneyisland #coffee #herecomesthesunInstagram
Thursday, February 08, 2018
Never again was the rallying cry - we have seen those two words being erased recently by the world's silence regarding the genocides in Syria and other parts of the world. Now the President of Poland is trying to erase the responsibility of his people. If we erase the historical responsibilities of a people, of a nation - never again will happen over and over. - Freddy Zalta 2.8.18 #poland #threemillion #aushwitz #boycott PolandInstagram
World leaders would be apt to remember these words and times.. In 1982, Joe Biden was a Senator from Delaware and confronted then Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin during his Senate Foreign Relations committee testimony, threatening to cut off aid to Israel. Begin responded using the words above. #MenachemBegin #Powerful #ProudJew #istandwithisrael @let_my_people_knowInstagram
Wednesday, February 07, 2018
Here Comes the Sun or Memories from a Coffee Shop in Coney Island
Scenes from an old coffee shop in Coney Island where we used to go...too much sugar in that small cup made your tongue taste sweeter than it should have. It must have been me, must have been my fault. I had no idea, I had no clue - I still have no idea and have no clue - but I can act the part and write the lines myself.
Memories, photographs, mind scenes refreshed and rewritten, edited, if you will, history redux to soothe us in the present. The wind keeps blowing, can you sense me coming? The sun keeps shining, can you feel my love? The darkness still darkening the pulse inside your head. Can you remember my smile? Lost, again, lost. I held her hand, she shook free and walked away. Was it something I didn't do? Was it something I didn't say? Lost fragments of an old treasure map whose treasure is the knowledge under some trees. In some garden, in Eden, or is it just me? Snow blown cold, sand storms and raindrops keep falling on my head. More http://ift.tt/1hbPRfX
Sunday, February 04, 2018
Thank you @keeleychevrier Repost photography by @keeleychevrier This picture, from Cambria Castle, is of frozen leaves from a puddle in front of the castle gate. Then I found this pretty poem to go with it this morning.. Enjoy! "Piano on a Frozen Lake"- By Freddy S. Zalta There is a frozen lake with a grand piano in the center of it. There is an older man playing songs from our childhood as we stand around him and sing the words to his music. The cool breeze is getting cooler and snow is threatening to fall at any second... But there is soup on the stove and warm couch for us to sit together and lay down. Drink a glass of wine, raise a glass for all our times. Smiles, tears, dances and doors slammed. Children born, parents gone, friends say hello and just as quickly say goodbye... The old man is tickling the ivory and the ebony keys - songs like brown eyed girl and I guess that's why they call it the blues. He plays Cole Porter and Ira Gershwin tunes too... We hold hands and I want to take you in my arms and sweep you off your feet, fly away to another world...another time... But the lake is frozen, the snow is beginning to fall and the soup is on the stove...I can smell it from here... So say goodbye to the sadness, say goodbye to that old man, playing Fire and Rain...maybe tomorrow we can do this all again. 💝 @freddyzalta_the_real_thing @freddythedaddy.com @hellopoetry.com #freddyszalta #pianoonafrozenlake #frozenleaves #iceandsnow #winter #february #naturephotography #newyorkInstagram
Thursday, February 01, 2018
Each individual is unique, possesses their own super power and genius. Do not compare one to another. That is like comparing one snow flake to another when it's been told that each snow flake is unique. Each human being is unique from another, respect the differences, learn from them and embrace them. How boring would life be if we were all identical? #embracedifference #respecteachother Thank you @adrianalimaInstagram
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