Archive for the Prose Category

Café Nowhere

Posted in Prose with tags on July 2, 2013 by lengesinski

Café Nowhere


After the many conversations

had already trailed off

and the two sets of coffee mugs have already been set down.

Two old friends shared plans and wishes, some realistic while yet some more future based.

In lieu of goodbyes. A moment of deep silence fills the time and space…

One set of eyes filled with a indefatigable determination……

the other seemingly so far away, with a hint of tears.

The tales not told, and the tales that could not be told.   

Café Nowhere©Leonard.C. Gesinski All Rights Reserved(06/27/2013)



Posted in Prose with tags , , , , , , , on May 16, 2013 by lengesinski



The water kettle whistles it’s readiness from the other room

Paper, pencils, pens, and erasers strewn around notepad on the desk in front of me

Birds are still singing outside in the bright sun of this morning

And the clock ticks on……

Still trying to collect thoughts


05162013©Leonard.C. Gesinski All Rights Reserved(05/16/2013)


Blood Money

Posted in Prose with tags , , , , , , , on May 8, 2013 by lengesinski

Blood Money


Amaranthine hues and tones

the many years

of spilled blood


into the soils

of far off lands

but, this time……not buying

and decidedly long-distanced

from tainted messages and reasonings

smoke and mirrors

tailored in webs of tangled complicities

pocked with flaws and coloured with prejudices

many faces of enmity

the destructive waves hate and ignorance

just too hard to miss..or ignore

from never ending streams

of incessant and mind-numbing

manipulations and fearmongering

wrapped in flags and patriotisms

circles of decidedly blind populace

spelled and mind fucked

hopeless in their haplessness

years of suggestion, key phrases, double language, and mixed messages

looking completely through

all of the blank eyed and smiley faced

Politicians, Lobbyists,

Behind the scenes Puppets

ever ready

 with proud declarations and tired catch phrases

their rehearsed speeches

and overused slogans

ribboned and medaled to the hilt

to the suits

of a killing trade

always having been quite mindful

of the collateral damage

calculated losses

 that were already figured into

set and ready with their machines

stuffs of destruction……


War is Not the Answer…or part of any solutions ever leading to peace


Blood Money©Leonard.C. Gesinski All Rights Reserved(05/07/2013)


Posted in Prose with tags , , , , on May 7, 2013 by lengesinski



Solo Missions-Fabyan Parkway 050513 002

Brightest sunlight

Dispelling the last of winter’s

stubborn influence

My imagination


by a new season’s


Their prismatic brilliance

as evidenced

in the striking purples, blues, greens, and yellows

My eyes fixed

far above

an endless parade

of wispy birds and pining dragons

shaped and drawn in rows

of lazy fluffed clouds

a steady procession

making their way

across the sky

The river’s lapping waters

Quick and dark

with currents deep

The sounds of birdcalls crisscrossing

both south and north

Of the old crossing bridge


a one hundred year old ruins

Mere hints

of a more glorious past…..


050513©Leonard.C. Gesinski All Rights Reserved(05/05/2013)

Fabyan Parkway

Smithy(of all Tracks and Roads Leading West)

Posted in Prose with tags , , , , , , , on February 25, 2013 by lengesinski

Smithy(of all Tracks and Roads Leading West)


Tall bearded fellow, with graying hair comes through the front door, and  makes his way through burger joint late on this saturday afternoon.

 Smithy makes his way across the room to our last row with chooses a seat quite near the windows facing east and nearest to an exit.

 When finished with my own meal, I’m not satisfied to look past, or through the man to three seats to my left who still continues to sip from a Mcdonald’s Coffee Cup and read from a local saturday news rag.

 From three tables away, We both exchange glances, and nods-silent acknowledgments.

 One of many Questions about what day of the week it is, the month, the date of the month, what time it are asked to anybody who dared not to ignore the fellow with the well-worn army jacket.

Smithy’s memory issues jostle my own recollections  of running into the many homeless and unfortunate with that same well-worn expressions.

 My peace and conscience now are well rattled, an inner empathy blazing.

I make my way over to Smithy and offer the remainder of my food to him.

He happily and quite gratefully accepts the food, and soon sets about devouring the remaining foodstuffs with an urgency of one that has not seen many meals in the recent past.

 A short time later, I walk up  the front counter with Smithy and ask about any more food that can be purchased for him with last the few dollars and loose change that remain in my pocket.

Smithy pleads that the money can be best spent for a train ride west to lombard on the following day(Sunday).

Going against both personal philosophy and experience from living in Chicago, I hand over the few remaining dollars and loose pocket change.

From past experience, I would much rather feed somebody on the spot than offer money that could be used to feed existing negative behaviours.

 My heart aches in the fact that I could not do any more for this man, and it’s not difficult at all to see that Smithy has been down some roads in life that have not been kind in the least.

 Smithy’s memory issues jostle my own recollections  of running into the many homeless and unfortunate with that same well-worn expressions. Living or lingering amongst the subway rats each day and each night- Home sweet home indeed.

The same then garbled questions, .nights and days travelling by subway and bus into Chicago for overnight working gigs, and

God, that far-away look deep within those eyes—the look that I’m Certain that I’d rather not EVER have to walk a step in his Shoes.  

 The time came to part ways, Smithy and I Shook hands and my last words to him were ‘Brother, take the greatest of care, and be careful’.

 Some 31 hours later, I still wonder about Smithy’s future travels, whereabouts, and circumstances. 


…..Kol Tuv my friend

Smithy(of all Tracks and Roads Leading West)©Leonard.C. Gesinski All Rights Reserved(02/23/2013)

High Wire….

Posted in Prose with tags , , , , , on February 18, 2013 by lengesinski

High Wire….


A Horrific PreCognition Came Upon Him,  as if a Thousand Eyes Were Staring with

the Most Serious of Intent.

His Heart Pounds,  With What Seems to be Ten Times Quicker With Each Successive Moment.  

Cold Beads of Sweat Drip Down Upon Heated Skin, as if some Torturesome Physical Counterpoint.

Thoughts Race at an ever  Accelerating Rate……One to a Thousand to a Million….Continuing an Angst Ridden Onslaught on an already Highly Much Mind.

A Glass of Ice Water Shakes in His Left Hand, Still Manages to Hold What Remains of a Much  Maligned Resolve and Quietly Stares Intently at the Well Weathered Oaken Floor….Finally Managing a Sip to Parched Lips.

His Eyes Dart from Left to Right to Up  and Down…as if the Remedy to this Building Madness Were to Magically Appear Out of Some Darkened Far Corner of the Room.  

Breathe, Must Breathe ………Uhhhhhhhhh-Phuuuhhhhh Uhhhhhhhhh-Phuuuhhhhh, Long and Deep the Air is finally Pulled into Lungs None Too Anxious to Receive, Held for Scant Moments and then Forcibly Exhaled out.

Almost and at Last a Final Try at Collecting Himself.

Slowly and with Much Trepidation, He  Makes the Way Up to an Awkward Standing Position.

His legs Seem to Wobble Under the Body’s Full Weight.  Tense Hands with ever Clumsy Fingers Attempt to Gather Notes, Only then able to Make His Way Forward Toward the Podium.

The House Lights are Temporarily Blinding, Attempts to Readjust Vision with a Quick Closing and Opening of Eyes..

Focused Vision, The Light-Headedness is Now Gone and He Breathes Slowly….

The Notes in-Hand are Shuffled Again, His Mouth Finally Opens and the Voice Booms with a Newborn Confidence Over the House P.A. System.

High Wire©Leonard.C. Gesinski All Rights Reserved(02/17/2013)

Cosmic Messenger

Posted in Prose with tags on January 11, 2013 by lengesinski

Cosmic Messenger


And as We Spoke of an Angel’s Quest

With None But the Clouds Themselves

to Hold Back Lofty Intentions

It Was Asked

But Where The Heart?

Braveness of Intention Spoken with Words

that Seemed Once to Ring both Loud and True

It Was Asked

But Where Do Thy Intentions Truly Lie?

……Falling Back to Earth

Weighted Down By Pure Mortal Haughtiness

The Brightness of Sunlight Exposed the Waxed Wings to Light

Cosmic Messenger©Leonard.C. Gesinski All Rights Reserved(01/10/2013)

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