We escape into the tube, into the flicks, into our earphones, into our books. Hell, I’m escaping as I’m writing this. But the voices of the secret whisper within- always come around- come sneaking back in- come to the front- and face us down. And as that awful soul-freezing moment[…]
Ghosts flickered in and out of view looking like an old Technicolor 50’s film, as I skim the channels of rememberance. Ghosts squint and smile from unsteady shots, like a worn old, 8mm home video image, dance and remind us of times gone by, times of greatness, of fame and[…]
There are voices calling out… Many and varied with each their own agenda. All calling for attention- for action- for reaction. The voices should challenge and stir, but somehow we have been numbed, not deafened but anesthetized. Even though retreat had been called, the voices can nevertheless be heard, luring[…]
We sat right at the bank of the river. Young. Bored. High. The fog wasn’t cold but it was thick as tar hiding every part of the night from us. “Nothin’ happenin’ tonight” someone said. And it was true. We were quiet and pensive, mesmerized by the moody stillness of[…]
dead T.V. on the curbside, useless tires stacked in mounds landfill mountains leaking anything into the water table bundles and bundles of tomorrows tiewraped up in a plastic that will out last everyone alive back in the fifties they had the smarts to invent transistors and plastic but I can[…]
Between strangers flash exchanges – never spoken As telling as any intimate touch As revealing as an undressing of the soul The darting hungry eyes of loneliness The knowing crooked frown The reminder of the disappointments The folded empty arms The nervous twitchy crossed legs Of empty anxious beds… Then[…]
Standing on the platform the shiver through me isn’t from the cold. Ahead lies an endless living tapestry the window unveils every morning. The ordered little houses- row on row on row- a quiet suburban police station- almost no signs of life- an orderly cemetery being groomed in the distance-[…]
There is a certain sadness that we each recognize. We never have to speak of it. We know it through our eyes. We see it in the faces. It’s known without a word. Our souls are always speaking, and every soul is heard. We see it as we watch them[…]
when walls have been erected but windows not yet hung and they stare vacant like sockets when doorways open up the space without the option of being closed yawning out when ceilings gape open and skeleton stairs imply their destiny when walls echo the absent paintings dulled in shades of[…]
There are faces in the city that seem always to be in change. There are faces in the city that seem always to remain the same. They are made of flesh and stone, steel and bone. In the streets there is an intimacy within the anonymous surging crowd. In the[…]