AFTER SEPTEMBER
my book of poetry about September 11th, 2001...and after Available NOW at Amazon.com -click here
.

Sunday, September 30, 2018

No Place Like Home



Some times it feels as if the road is home. Big sky, two lanes taking me anywhere.

Spending time away from NYC gives one a different perspective upon return. The buildings loom taller, the people seem more than just extras in a film or television show, a perceptible difference of  a season's sunlight  becomes more palpable.


A visit to St Patrick's on a September day reminded me of my Roman Catholic roots.  The iconography depicting the passion of our Savior used to terrify me. Now it is strangely comforting.



Peace to all who have lived to face such times as times as these where indiscretions of the past become indignities of the present. May what divides us make us stronger as we come together and address injustice. Let us make corrections where it is in our power to do so.

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Hurricane Florence Poems

In the tense hours before and during the storm, my mind had the space to compose some poems.




Who built this road?
I’ll never know
I can only find out
Where it goes.

Who cleared the path?
What man? What woman?
What child ate because of
Their labor?

Who built the sky?
And mountains on
The horizon?

What God? Or Goddess
Filled the desert?

Who built this road?
I will never know. But now,
I must discover
Where it goes.

Perhaps I can find it
On a map. Or perhaps
I will just drive.

Uncle Stew 

Enigmatic tear from a place
so far
A well too deep

Perhaps dust
from a star
Mote in the eye
of a cry

Single tear
rivulets of tears
Sobs of grief
howls of laughter
cries for joy

All one expression
drops of water
made inside
a human being
But belonging
to
Eternity



I am back on the road to NYC to resume my job there. Expect more poetry will come to me on the long drive. I feel great love for all in my life. Thank you for the lessons. I am humbled and blessed to know you.


Sunday, September 9, 2018

Never Forgetting...But Moving On...

9-1-1. 3-4-3.

Never forgetting does not have to mean always remembering. That is what I have done for a long time. Always reliving that day. Sometimes I would lose myself in the memory. If you were to be with me in those moments...or for those hours, you could tell I was not with you. I was in downtown Manhattan when the planes hit the buildings.

I want to thank you who have understood that over the years and have been there for me when I decided to return from the dead and join the living.

I am looking forward now. Remembering the good and leaving the worst behind.




I am going back
Today
So I can say goodbye
To yesterday

2017


I return to
My past
So, at last, I can rest

2001
So I can finally
Leave
Like I left that building
Which collapsed behind me
 And covered us in
Dust of hate’s
destruction

2013

I will forget
I will now
Not never
 Yet ever


The horror
The bravery
The guilt
The honor

2013


Will remind me
To remember
What we did
After the Fall

2002

2001


I will go back
And then
Go forward
For Love

2001



Saturday, September 8, 2018

DAVID J RANSOM

Things I remember about my father: Everyone always commented on how alike we were in physical appearance. 









What I loved about dad, is he knew how different we were, and he loved me for those differences. He encouraged them. Demanded them. 



Today, on the day we note the 10th year since his suffering ended, I have faith that he, along with all the dearly departed, are somehow aware of us, and our lives, and how much they want for us all to be happy. 


God bless and keep you daddy, in the bosom of her heart.

Monday, September 3, 2018

LABOR DAY

For those who work, those who make, who think, create, organize, implement, contemplate, formulate; for those who do, who study, for those who work with their hands, those who work with their minds, for those who make the wheels and those who set the wheels in motion, for those who drive, build, invent, conceive, give birth...for all we do...I salute you. Today is our day to reflect on what it means to work. The great gift of labor. The privilege it is to build a life from nothing but the energy our bodies create. From the love of our hearts, the vision of our minds, may we figure out a way to move forward into a better tomorrow...