Monday, October 23, 2017
Trick or Treat?
When I think about Halloween I think about when we moved to east 2nd street; we would go trick or treating after school and try to avoid being egged. (raw eggs being thrown at us) We would come home, running from the bus, put on our costumes and go house to house - then to the buildings on the corner of east 2nd and avenue S. We would come home and sort out the candy - non-kosher candy, fruits (with or without blades) and loose candy would go into the garbage. There were also the ones who would give us a dime, or some pennies. I remember putting together enough change to buy a wiffle ball or two. I know I am romanticizing this - I am sure it was not always as much fun and filled with excitement as my memory tells me. As the the days become shorter and eventually, cooler - the turkeys are beginning to run away from the butchers and the Enteman pumpkin pies are arriving on the counters of the supermarkets - I become nostalgic. Hell, I am always nostalgic. Life is not a simple task and to me, nostalgia helps me deal with life’s complications.
Sunday, October 22, 2017
He didn't consider himself a cannibal. The fact that he enjoyed the taste of the blood left on his weapon of choice after an assault of his latest victim, didn't seem to be cannibal like, but more blood thirst. So when Denise asked him what kind of food he liked, he simply said, “hand made food.” “You mean homemade food?” “Yes,” he laughed, “homemade food.” http://ift.tt/1hbPRfX
Blood Oath
He didn't consider himself a cannibal. The fact that he enjoyed the taste of the blood left on his weapon of choice after an assault of his latest victim, didn't seem to be cannibal like, but more blood thirst. So when Denise asked him what kind of food he liked, he simply said, “hand made food.”
Friday, October 20, 2017
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
Tear Stained Smiles
A picture found, laughter heard and the stains of teardrops on faces around the world.
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Alive
Ruminations, thunderstruck, clouded over and shrouded into a dark corner. With incessant voices, from another time, same place.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Back to the Past, Future
A man was playing a guitar but no sound seemed to come from the instrument - only the occasional grunt of frustration from him. There were people gathered around him waiting for the songs to be played...they just sat around and waited in silence.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Saw an Old Man
I was standing on the platform on Kings Highway waiting on the F train to take me to the city when I saw an elderly man sitting on the bench. I knew this man since I was a child, seen him around my neighborhood; standing upright and boisterous. He was the kind of man who would walk into a room and everyone would know it before they even recognized his face. He had that dynamic mystique, while not good looking and fit; he had a persona that was like an open door promising warmth and good cheer. So many scenes swept me up in a conspiracy of time travel that I felt dizzied by the theater of it all. He sat there and had a look on his face of confusion? As if he had gotten off the train at an unfamiliar stop somewhere? Or was it his eyes brows rising on the outer parts, sinking in the inner; his face unevenly shaved and his shirt unevenly buttoned up that made him seem lost?
Tuesday, October 03, 2017
October for Love
Memories, a circus, a clown. A Carny, a trick and slap of cards and smoke. . Lights on, lights out, rainy night once again. A flask filled with cheap whisky.
Dream Come True
These past years have been financially and mentally exhausting - fodder for my stories is the reason I feel I have been thrust through the tunnel of failure over and over. I walk into the restaurant and I catch a glimpse of her smiling. Nothing as beautiful to me in the world than her smile. 
Sunday, October 01, 2017
The Rain in Juarez
We started off drinking some burgundy from a bota bag and then moved on to partake in the bottles of tequila, homemade, that were being passed around. There was a table beneath the overpass with local homemade food which the ladies brought in trays. We kept on dancing as long as the band kept on playing. The tequila made me dizzy so I drank some more which brought some equilibrium - the rain subsided and the clouds parted to reveal and hot sun. The band began to play a familiar tune, to me at least, and we stood aside and watched as some locals performed a dance they must have danced a thousand times.
Roses on the Floor
Long time ago, our whole lives speeding by at a million miles an hour, we never stopped to check out the beauty that surrounded us. Thirty years goes by and 21 turns to 51 and still the world is out of focus, yet better defined. Love is the answer, it always was, lost in a […]
Swinging Tire on a Tree
Silent scream in the dark, a cigarette extinguished, a fun moon hangs on the ceiling with billions of stars. We are not alone, we are not alone. A birthday card, a broken pencil and a stamp on an envelope with no address. A deserted beach, a cape, an inlet to a deserted time. A phone […]
If Only…
Downtown Chicago, a moonless night and the young man walked with a limp; it wasn’t his legs that caused it, but a psychological illness which someone manifested itself as a limp. Four years clean and counting, each day a war, each moment a battle. Old friends tossed away like the cigarettes smoked outside of another […]
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
River Afire
A dream, a memory, a song, a dance, a bedtime story from her childhood or perhaps a prayer from her Sunday morning prayers in the church across from this crazy river. It was on one of those Sunday mornings when Agee took her by her hand and led her to the clover patch by the lake - on the Catalina side - gave her fodder for confessions. Agee moved away the next day to the West Coast and that was fine with her. He was a simple guilty pleasure and a gentle guide through the gates of innocence. 
Monday, September 11, 2017
A Man of Contradictions
I live my life one step at a time, taking care to enjoy each vision, each caress...yet I fret about tomorrow three days ago. Look at me, you can never read my emotions by my smile. Look at me, can you read my emotions in my eyes? I am leaping for joy - crying at times in the dark - loving all around me - yet lonely at the same time. I love myself for the person I am - yet I chide myself for not feeling the ultimate freedom of living freely. Freedom of living free - I like that yet I question the logic of the wordplay. 
Monday, August 28, 2017
Time Pieces (Working title) Chapter 4
o the question persisted - were the events in the world, in the lives we live, random or planned? Was I chosen or was the archer blind? The trajectory of life is not just a one off shot. We are thrust up from birth and we are flung, we are thrown, we are tossed like a baseball or dropped like a scalding piece of iron - we are watched, scolded, reprimanded, bent out of our natural shape and forced into cages with invisible bars. The wardens in our prisons are bankers, lawyers and bosses. Spouses, teachers, family and friends play the part of loved ones yet hold us in their preconceived needed visions of whom they need us to be. The trigger is pulled, the arrow is slung, the sun has risen...the bell has rung and the fucking alarm clock is screaming out that it's time to stop dreaming. Fantasy morphs into reality and no change in the past can change the present I find myself in. Sherry had found, lost and found her life again and I had too much and nothing at all to do with it. As I watched her disappear her memory began to fade from my mind; what she looked like, sounded like and tasted like.
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Water is Boiling – We have all Failed
The media is biased to the point of irritation and driven to increase the ratings have elevated the amount of hatred and anger to new levels. Everyone from late night talk show hosts, who claim to be the "good guys," to the pontificating radio talk show hosts who claim that everyone is wrong because they are "right," are to blame. They should be charged with inciting riots of hatred, bigotry and for ringing the division bells across the country
Friday, August 11, 2017
Time Pieces (working title) chapter 3
Sherry was staying at the same hotel as myself - we went to check if our rooms were ready and only mine was. She accompanied me to my room so she could “freshen up.” Her lips were puffy and her smile was soft. Her eyes were blue and her hair was jet black. She wore a pantsuit and a mans white shirt beneath the blazer. Her lipstick was red and her eyeliner was black. Her neck was long and tasted like perfume - a sweet and intoxicating flavor. When we finally got to the room we fell onto the bed and stayed there for the next several hours. She was a supermodel and somehow made me into a superman that afternoon. I truly was grateful for my 50 year old knowledge and 26 year old body. 
Sunday, August 06, 2017
Time Pieces (working title) Chapter 2
How do we know that it's for the worse and not something that needs to occur to promote evolution of some kind? We don’t. But when it's that devastating and it's something that was never written about in the historical files - we know that it's time traveled terrorism.
Thursday, July 27, 2017
Time Pieces (working title)
My name is Freddy Zalta. I am 51, well, almost 51 years old. I am writing this as a testimony should anything happen to me or the world as we should have known it. Or as we should not have known it. Officially I work as a watch salesman - selling the means for telling time. We sell watches in all colors and styles - for kids and for adults alike. Unofficially I work at a company called, “Timekeepers.” The only thing that it has in common with my official job is the ability to adjust the time on the dial, Timekeepers, is a company that is employed by the U.S. government to maintain and to improve history and control the future.
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
Home Again
I found my way down to Los Gatos in California. I was led there by another woman named, Danielle, who's father worked at Netflix in some high powered job there. She promised me a job there and a place to live. I lived with her and her sister for two years; working in the marketing department of Netflix for a while and then shifting over to work in San Jose at Happy Hollow Park Zoo for what seemed like eternity but in reality was only for a month. It was at the end of that month that I met Tracey, a graphic designer and recently a divorcee.
Friday, May 26, 2017
Take it Picture – It lasts Longer
It sneaks up this spirit called, "Time." It moves quicker or slower than we could ever imagine. Some days and nights feel as if we are waiting for the rust to form on the bars that surround us. Some days and night pass and we are left to wonder who changed the measurements of time?
Sunday, April 23, 2017
Forgotten?
The world swore remembrance and swore against intolerance which can lead to genocide. In the aftermath of the Holocaust, the United Nations initiated “The Genocide Convention,” defining genocide as “acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group.” Somewhere along the line, the flame of vigilance against genocide was extinguished. The fire upon the “Yahrzeit Candle” which commemorates the memory of the dead, became unlit. Somewhere the promises were broken and the voices were silenced.
Sunday, March 19, 2017
Corey’s Coming (based on original song by Harry Chapin)
As I sit on his chair I think back to the stories he had told me – times in his life that he held on to like a security blanket – the passengers he befriended, the overnight stopovers where he learned about love, loneliness and the art of just making it to the next sunrise. His world travels searching for something that he eventually would find right within the stuff he was made of. But the memory that kept him warm in his lone space here, the memory that made it all worth it was the memory of his Corey and the love they shared.
Friday, March 10, 2017
The Broken Man
The hardest truth for the heart to accept is the truth that it's all a lie. Dreams, love, forever..even right this second… Slipping through my hands, melted memories like the celluloid scenes we once held so dear. Lost in the backstreets and the deserted ruins, like the dreams upon awakening, gone and forgotten. Forbidden satisfaction, is it all a sin? Laughter and peace, can it ever win? Shivers felt, warm breeze lost...it's getting colder and colder, take me home. Lay me down in your bed, drop off your coverings and open yourself to me. Can you warm me, can you make me feel alive? Can you hold me, hold me hold me…take me in...it's cold out here... The night is cold, the day is secluded - is this atonement for a sin I cannot recall?
Thursday, February 23, 2017
Soundtracks of My Life – Billy Joel
What he did for 22 years, from “Cold Spring Harbor” through “River of Dreams,” was change the worlds of millions of people. He gave them encouragement to be who they were; to think for themselves but to not forget the ones who loved them. He told us about our past before we even had one to hear about, he told us about the bars, the taverns, the street corners, about the crazy summer in New York City with blackout, heat wave and the 44 caliber killer. He told us to sing along with the Piano Man because even the Piano Man needs the support to make it through the songs. He told us about “Keeping the Faith” and about his meeting with a Russian clown, Viktor, who made his daughter laugh. He sang to us about his mood swings, how he goes to extremes and he has no idea how to control them. He is the piano man, he is the Streetlife Serenader, the Fisherman trying to stay afloat despite the laws and regulations all stacked against him. He is the everyday guy who, well learned stickball, found how to dance and still look tough and of course, made it with the red haired girl in a Chevrolet.
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Boat Upon a Lake
In the darkness, if you close your eyes you can hear the songs from years past; the splashing from the swimmers, the laughter from the summers from so long ago. The sounds of panting, crying and conversations. The optimism of the youth and the innocence...now gone.
Thursday, February 16, 2017
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Soundtracks of my Life – Bruce Springsteen
I listened to these songs, over and over again. Music had always been a part of my heart and soul; before this there was Elton John, Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, Billy Joel, the Beatles...but when I listened to Bruce Springsteen I felt a sense of freedom. I felt that it was alright to express yourself without having the poetry of Dylan. To express yourself by spitting it out there for the world to hear. The dream of finding the girl who may not be "The One," but is the one; having her jump into your beat up Chevy and heading to where the "Highway is alive" to "wash the sands off of our hands." The sins of allowing ourselves to be caught and imprisoned in a reality built by walking dead figurines. By the ones who need to numb themselves to get through another day - beat up their wives and kids to find the manhood they had taken away. Listening to Bruce I lost my virginity; I lost my sense of blind trust and I questioned everything from God to the existence of life on Mars. 
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
I respect all opinions but I am tired of hearing them from people who are hiding behind books and Jon Stewart infused media. Life is hard. There is no black and white, one plus one does not always equal two. A work of art in color does not automatically define happiness and monochrome is not always a rainy day. Good does not always win, evil wins way too often. Is there a God? That's your opinion, your definition of It, Him, Her or That, is your business, keep it to yourself. Perfection is non existent, imperfection is what the stuff of life is made up of. It's ugly, it's brilliant, it's simply frightening. Stop judging and start listening. Don't read this if you are too intelligent or a false elitist. You will reject it's simplicity. Don't trust me, her, him or them, think for yourself and then decide. Literature is an escape not lessons in life. Only actuality can teach you, if you live with eyes open wide and your mouth and mind quieted long enough to hear others. My opinion should mean very little to you, maybe a nudge or a shake to wake you. It's magnificent the way people stand up and gather, but why not put that same energy to voice the voices of the socially mute? The starving, the abused, the depressed and the disenfranchised whom live within our zip codes? Where are the crowds fighting for all people? Hunger is still alive and thriving within your community. Where are the ones, the protestors to fight against this power? There is an old saying, "charity begins at home." That doesn't mean within your four walls. Stand up against oppressors of women, men and children. Stand up against hunger. WhyHunger Sephardic FoodFund among others, make a difference. Do something rather than quoting articles to prove your points.Instagram
Monday, February 13, 2017
Friday, February 10, 2017
A World Unformed and Void…
Are you, all of you, superior? If that is so then why do you lower yourself to an animal’s standards? If you are high above the black, white and the grays; then why are you confined to a world without color?
Thursday, February 09, 2017
Wednesday, February 08, 2017
This beautiful chrome shaving set was hand turned on a lathe by myself from a single piece of Black and White Ebony wood. Each matching piece is coated with a water-resistant finish to ensure lasting integrity and longevity. The complete set features, ~A double edge safety razor (blades sold separately, It accepts all standard double edge shaving blades) ~A genuine high-grade badger hair bursh for a comfortable lather every time. ~A perfect stand for displaying your handcrafted shaving brush and razor. With a threaded design and weighted base, there’s no better way to compliment your custom shaving brush and razor.Instagram
Monday, February 06, 2017
The SodaStream company has decided to feature an Israeli flag on all its products, which are sold in 45 countries. "The company management wants to send a message of national pride, particularly in days when many of us hide our Israeli identity from the world." (Source: IsraelHayom.com) #SodaStream #MessageInABottle #IsraelPrideInstagram
Sunday, February 05, 2017
Friday, February 03, 2017
Songs of Spirals and Flights
Her name is Sara and she is 32 years old, divorced with two children. Her children are 6 and 8 - both girls - she shares custody with her ex-husband, Hank, who takes them on the weekends to his home, two blocks north of where she is. Sara stands by the kettle and whispers, “Come on already,” as if her urging will incite the water to hit the temperature which will cause the water to boil when she will then pour that water into the cup with the instant coffee, one packet of sugar and milk already in place waiting to be forever united as her first cup in the morning.
The early morning sun creeps through the trees in the park. The sounds of the birds in the trees waking up and singing their songs; perhaps gossiping about one thing or another. A lone man walks smoking a cigarette while holding onto the leash of his best friend who is smelling a fire hydrant. This block is filled with houses – some one family and some multi-family dwellings. Down the block is a building and on the fourth floor of that building there is a lady who is warming up water and waiting, impatiently for it to boil. Life is filled with victories and defeats – to Sara it feels like she has sabotaged her life over and over into never ending spiral song. Her name is Sara and she is 32 years old, divorced with two children. Her children are 6 and 8 – both girls – she shares custody with her ex-husband, Hank, who takes them on the weekends to his home, two blocks north of where she is. Sara stands by the kettle and whispers, “Come on already,” as if her urging will incite the water to hit the temperature which will cause the water to boil when she will then pour that water into the cup with the instant coffee, one packet of sugar and milk already in place waiting to be forever united as her first cup in the morning. In the other room she hears her youngest brushing her teeth while her other daughter closes the door to her room so she can undress to get dressed. The bus drives them away and Sara returns to the building, takes the elevator to the 4th floor and opens the door to apartment 4D. The door slams behind her as she falls into the couch in the living room and lays down. She knows it’s a mistake, she knows she should know better and questions whether she is being self-destructive. She knows that once she lets down her guard she will break down and what good would that do for anyone? She lays down and she contemplates how she had once pictured her life. Three or four kids, a nice house and a future filled with promise. But for some reason she inhaled and once she inhaled she enjoyed it. This led to drinking and then to pill popping Read more http://ift.tt/2l4OQZJ
Thursday, February 02, 2017
Wednesday, February 01, 2017
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