Norbury’s Landing (beach), Cape May NJ

Norbury’s Landing (beach), Cape May NJ

Thoughts from the porch (beach version)

Thoughts from the porch (beach version)

I am on vacation, but still in New Jersey… Cape May specifically, it seems to be an annex of Philly these days, I didn’t intend on writing so much, I felt so not inspired, but, I did write, like a homeless weirdo on the beach (oh the looks I got creating my art), but that said… here is what I wrote, tomorrow , a monday, I will be on a beach, some beach, probably remote because I want to hear from the plovers, the kites and the gulls, instead of the dull populace I know… (this will be added to my porch series)

porch” (vacation version) 10.7.2018

cape may, cusp of columbus day

I come here to get away

and find myself surrounded

by sounds and lights

I can hardly hear the waves crashing

billy joel cover band and conversations,

shadows from car lights through railings flashing

shadows of people that grow and stretch

I’m sitting on a bench on the ocean road

a concrete promenade

across from an official entrance to the beach

a sign orders me I am not allowed, by the town, ordinance

white wood rails cast an L on the ground

and now the cabana bar is wailing some stevie ray vaughn

something I might have chosen

the sky is falling”

kindle wood wired fences, to protect the dunes

the car lights feel like flashlights, walking up like midnight joggers

older couples walk by –

I wonder, flip flops make a certain pop sound

what will I be when I am older

not too far from now

I am the only one out here alone, writing,

everything else seems inviting and wrapped in reveling

but I remain, trying to concentrate on the waves

the constant surf in the near distance

not the clamor blocking from all directions, distraction

am I selfish, for just wanting the sound

the sound of the ocean crashing, allowing my mind to rest,

there is a breeze, but yet, the plants of the dunes do not move

I suppose they are immune when I am enamored by the move,

a silver mother and golden daughter walk past

at least I imagine they are such, their language in form and my experience spoke to that,

the bike racks are not quite bursting but near full, at night,

the paint and stain on the bench looks quite pristine, woody and iron blue,

even the garbage bins seem clean,

but the din…

that ever present welling of amplified conversation.

If ever a tower of babble there ever was

porch” 10.7.2018

so how did I wind up here?

sitting alone on a bench

the stir of life all around, a maelstrom

and I am the eye

sitting and observing, all this life

a lifeless eye, closest to the intense

but calmest of all,

life, merry, singing, dancing,

friend, family, lovers,

cheaters, smokers, would be elopers,

detached from all this

tricking my mind, that time is,

time also sweeping me by, and through

sidelined (as if escaped)

but the days peeling away just the same

I question my motives my every move


I have more than many

certainly more than some

I should rejoice –

but here I am

staring at foreign plants on common sand

these pages moist with the breath of the common sea.

Simple thoughts or maybe incomplete ones (or maybe they suck)

Simple thoughts or maybe incomplete ones (or maybe they suck)

The weekend, the name engages thoughts of fun and relaxation (at least to me), so I like to post light, or things maybe that I like but are not complete (I rarely go back and rewrite anything, I like to do things in the moment, just my jam), feel free to use them to inspire you (just give me some cred if you do)…

planned” 5/3/18

I am so prepared for you

that I am ill equipped for anyone else anymore

I wish I had the answers

that everyone thinks I should know

still searching for

at the horizon

forever just out of sight and reach

so prepared for a fate

I may never meet

a dream in my waking

have I closed all the doors?

cleanse” 5/14/18

I do not mind the rain

cleanse my soul

to begin again

momentary lapse

imagine molecules of water

in within the power of divine

I would like

to linger, delude

to wash anew

an intoxicating prospect

I brew


if I am to become ash

will the fire

incinerate my sin

erase the mark

allow me to forget

even in

in the time it takes

to dream.

gang of clouds” 6.6.18

rain approaching

leaves turn upside down

a gathering crowd of clouds

with ill intent


indistinct muttering

waiting for

the signs

a flash, a crack

to unleash

their wrath

notes… for whatever reason these feel haiku-ish to me.. but that is me, I had a weird week but still posted a bunch, I am off for vacation tomorrow in lovely Cape May NJ (a magical place if you ask me), I love the ocean, I wonder how I will view it now since my re-awakening as a writer ? not sure, but I am damn sure I will be at the raw bar @ the Lobster House tomorrow night, bet on that.

Toad the Wet Sprocket – Walk on the Ocean (live)

and I would be remiss if I did not say thank you, any of you that ever get this far, I am trying to post me as much as me possible and if anyone cares, thanks, any reads are appreciated.  All comments and the ole follow-roo are also appreciated.

Poetry back works (2006)

Poetry back works (2006)


The photo was taken @ Scientist Cliffs MD, I go there to decompress from the job, life etc.  Oddly I am not  inspired to write when I am there… the irony.  I guess my mind is so calm that it just wants the rest.  Anyway I spent the week going though all my notebooks (the ones I could find) and put a good amount of stuff into text so I can post it. Since I am so darn organized (ok, anal retentive) I want to post the older stuff first.  Some of these works really affected me, I was surprised by how much I remembered writing these (some of them are quite emotional)… it seems like they were in my head just yesterday, life is strange, but luckily I am alive to observe the strangeness.  Thanks for reading.  Any thoughts or comments are always welcome (good or bad, it’s cool). I hope even my little effort to put myself out there helps anyone who wants to write or express themselves in some fashion.

“goodbye” 2006

my lips too well remember

the sense of your warmth,

a kiss upon your forehead

and may they there rest in dreams again,

the passage of time has not shed

the blade nor dulled the wound,

perhaps only hope can be found.

take in

a salve for all ills

stills the heart for a moment;

yet the loss of your love

is the death of it all

as I said,


“untitled” 2006

pulling concrete blocks

with hooks, chains

shoulders folds of skin

bear the strains

empty shell,

skin, bones

“still there” 2006

a flash of lightning

on the horizon of my life

wherever I go you are there with me

upon looking at the sky



phantom conversations

untitled” 9/23/2006

bridges, tunnels and underpass

over, under and through

in my car

where I am

where I am?

the cross bronx

quite less than an express,

faded lines

barricades and flat tires

crumbling red brick walls

the road leads on

in always two directions

in cape may” 10/2006

take a picture of me

late october

empty shore

one shadow on the surf

only the crackle

of tide and the coming winter winds

even the vast flocks of seagulls

seem abandoned

an October Friday in Wildwood, NJ” 10/2006

the sound of breaking

and the waves

a small voice asks for ice cream

forty four degrees

boardwalk and arcades

taffy and rides

I wander through like a mist

of whispers

that catches no one’s ear