**** and ***** bongs,
Finding answers in the fog,
Loathing in New Jersey

I write
To make room in my head
To empty these thoughts out
Taking up too much space

So I exhale
Words, choke up
I got a knot in my throat
And your imagine in my head

I need to ******* rest
My bones crack
like the wood floors in Strand

My migraines are worsening
Thinking about you, with anyone else
I hate you
so much,


Simply, because I don't hate you at all.

I once believed religion was created to solidify the separation of humans as a species.
It's taken dark days to make me rethink that claim.
I am no Neandrathal. I do not need to hunt to fuel my body.
Just as my enemies would never stand in front of me.
Honest. Clenching their weapon. Clear; their intentions.

No, you see this day an age, it's all a mental spare.
Problem is, your enemies all look the same.
Do you really?
Are you sure?
How can you know?
Inner thoughts become consuming.
Especially when you are dancing with fear, hope, desire, passion, and the idea of what is right.
The mental stress can drive a person, any person, to insanity.

Homoerectus too could not fathom the transition.
To live in a world, knowing there is more than what they see.
I wonder if the pit of this is making sense, then you must be lucky.
Naivety is bliss.
It's true, I have lost my mind.
But in this day an age, I can just go to the store and buy another.

I'm rambling now, I get that from my mother.
Like I was saying.

No wonder they created Gods.
Without them, they would've lost their sanity.

Let there be light
To truly see, is absolutely torturing
But it sure as hell beats the darkness.

The other night, I swore I gazed into the past. I saw a kid who was selfish. Not caring, never stressin. Never knowin I saw a teen, who didn't fit. Didn't make the cut, who never made anything grass hopper complex? Then I saw a man, whose hurt.

stirred deeply with joy
enthralled with the spirit
we return to Elysian fields
to live autumnal reveries

we prance once more
onto blue sky diamonds
with hometown heroes
to pitch perfect games
knock long grand slams
to honor and embrace
the semblance of siblings,
parents, lovers and friends

life's teammates
our dearest playmates
passed and still here
sustaining our spirit
filling the void of
riven hearts
with nothing more than
a smiling presence,
compliant ear
a warm embrace

keeping a
season of sunshine
alive for one more
golden day

in a resplendent moment
Measy’s youngest son
stood before me
as if it were him
five decades ago

his impish smile,
mischievous eye
and olive skin
wrinkled when
he grinned

your Old Man
was a hell
of a ball player
a great hitter
he always swung down
at the pitch, hitting
nasty line drives

I remember that
summer afternoon
when we first met on
the Washington School
Merry-Go-Round...
Measy just up
from Carolina
he spoke with
a slow Tar Heel drawl
we didn't know what
to make of him
so we made him
our friend

Sifford's Esso, B&D;
and Bulldog teammates
I marveled at his athleticism
but the thing I remember
most was the soft joviality of...

“ ah hoot,
ah hoot.
ah hoot”

his laugh would send
a soft almost *******
shudder through his body

Measy lives in me,
forever in my heart
I embraced young Roy
touched his cheek
a transcendent moment
that spans a half century

At first base
Gail “Peppermint Patty” Q
was scooping up grounders
and not letting anyone past her
without giving them a smile or a hug….
asking each player if their shirt fit right…

the way Gail played
she could start for
the Lady Gaels today...

on the mound
Moons was wearing
a Schmeds shirt
lobbing lollipops to the hitters…..
making sure everyone got on base…

at short Screwball
covering half the ground
he once did..
(never a ss but a classic junk baller,
never threw a pitch that you could hit)
but on this day his heart was filled
overflowing with the karma
of good works and his love for
Rutherford and its favorite
sons and daughters
who have gone on before….

other stars abounded on the field and off…
Noons cracked everyone up
with an endless stand-up routine
Skip walloped a few dingers
BL looked sharp in his Foster Grants
and Andy was looking good
destined for the next cover of GQ….

Coach Way gave a resounding pep talk…
the need to grow up and show up
with an attitude of gratitude will
always make one a winner
regardless of the score

in the stands I heard a hundred stories
about the prowess and foibles of departed friends…

Bay Bay’s HR smash that put Flash Cleaners
into the World Series

A cool Moose bringing the ball across
half court, driving and dumping one off to Head
for the go ahead points against Queen of Peace

Minnow ruling a territory that included Morse Ave,
Wood Street up to Chopper’s House and
half of the Washington School playground

Fic being the smallest Bulldog with the largest heart
ran over linebackers and tackled fullbacks twice his size

Weehawken Joe draining a jumper
from the top of the key to keep it close
at the Union Hill pit…

as the list of the departed was read by Gail, Pat, John and Jimmy
the depth of our loss was only exceeded by the magnitude of love
a caring community extends to one another….
Rutherford is indeed a very special place….

so many caring friends
so many good thoughts
the blessing of friendship
the grace of presence

as I turned to leave
I thought I saw
Nick and Joe
hanging with
Sweet Lou
the hog was
humming
his red bandanna
was flapping
in a rising breeze

Aaron Copland:
Our Town

Righteous Brothers
Unchained Melody

Whitney Houston:
I Will Always Love You

Oakland
Dia De Muertos
2015


Thank you Pat Francke, Jimmy Noonan, Gail Wilhelm Quinn and John Mooney for putting this beautiful event together….

My apologies for not mentioning all the beloved souls so honored at this game…..Know that all are deeply loved and equally missed…..

If anyone has a memory they would like included please add in comments section and it will be incorporated in future versions…..

Also if anyone has a list of the names would like to add that to this….

God Bless

I wake up thinking of ways to entertain her and please her within the spectrum our existence. even through all the flaws and setbacks I have yet to accomplish or obtain any mastery of loving or living her what's so to speaking of her. I want to be her morning breath. I want to be that first cigarette a smoker who has smoke for 10 years has in the morning. That first pull. That first inhale that first exhale. I want to be that sudden change that urge to quit. Yet the same reason she can't turn away. somehow I still struggle with the mastery and the ability to obtain the way of loving her entire being
renee.

I wake up thinking of ways to entertain her and please her within the spectrum our existence. even through all the flaws and setbacks I have yet to accomplish or obtain any mastery of loving or living her what's so to speaking of her. I want to be her morning breath. I want to be that first cigarette a smoker who has smoke for 10 years has in the morning. That first pull. That first inhale that first exhale. I want to be that sudden change that urge to quit. Yet the same reason she can't turn away. somehow I still struggle with the mastery and the ability to obtain the way of loving her entire being
renee.