Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Heading to Italy/Greece

Can't exactly explain how excited and thankful I am to have this wonderful gift given to me & to my oldest son Austin. Thank you Greg! XOXO I promise to post tons of photos on my return! I'm just going to leave this image here for now, just because it's pretty : )


Wednesday, May 16, 2018


The tide is rolling in,

taking my feet from under me,

away to the unknown.

Empty beds,

torn sheets,

all left behind.

Incessant goodbyes.

Welcoming the new,

we are bright with hope,

full of longing.

Pushing away the past,

awakening with curiosity.

Searching for the bindings,

that will hold us in place.

Photo by me, taken after a winter storm in NJ

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

A good laugh and an updated version on it's way

I've kept journals since I was in eighth grade, it's kind of cool to revisit these writings/ musings and at times just silly stuff.. it's funny, and sweet and sometimes I can still feel the pain I felt back then at such a tender age.

This poem, which at the age of nineteen.. I named :

(here it is as was written then, I have to say I don't even get some of it)

Blinded by her past thoughts, a leaf blows over
the silken cocoon of what she once called her own

An ocean rising blue in it's deepest depths
purity strained through the shaking sheen of sand
Mists running rampant

Blackbirds fly to the unknown heavens
On endless fountainhead

Slow death swallows the animosity of something never attained

Red moon rises to a blind overshadowing of dripping dew from unshaven fields
Mountains loom to cast a darkness over what she once called her own

She seeks what has been lost
only to find the startling mirror of what had never been
Blinded by a Neptune of lunatics
her mind, she finds, may not belong

Where she once found solitude, now there is only eternity
An eternity of breathless motives and unscrupulous hands
roaming the breadth of her soul

Crying rends the seem where it had been sewn
A bite of the red apple and evil came in blurry shades of pink
and lowered shades of yellowed skies

And she had once called it her own

Askew is she, never again can the pieces fit
Black her nights, her bright eyes now dull with the steady passing of time
A baby never reborn, though questioned by a curious mind

And still the thought arises
She had once called it her own.
Me at 19

Friday, February 23, 2018


lying there beside you
my soul was lifted

our fingertips touching
like the kiss of a butterfly wing

knowing our spirits were welded then
with grace, with fire

now tucked inside my heart
for eternity

the whisper of you
in my ear

the breathe of you
in my mouth

the longing for you
an endless tide

Pacific Ocean, photo taken by me