It was 1997 when I last walked along the golden shore of Ventura Beach
I remember it vividly, within my mind
As though it happened only yesterday

Early morning, as the waves rolled in
Alone with thoughts on my mind
And as I looked into the deep blue waters
I thought of the future to come
And the past that had gone

And standing there, I knew in my mind
That life would work out somehow

Because life, so much, like the deep blue ocean
Constantly changing currents
Constantly changing shape
Constantly changing before our eyes…

The tower, it was ours, long before this came to be

And here we are now, again…

Who says you can’t always be?

We have, you know?

For so long now, through the ages

My best friend

My confidant

Always meeting, in these strange places

Full of strange faces

But you, I know

Always

Forever and a day

It was ours

And it always will be

Forever and a day…

-jl

The first rain of spring has arrived

A cooling of the earth after a warm spring day

Falling fast, falling slow

The sound of rain hitting the street below

And the occasional sound of thunder in the backdrop

A gentle reminder that summer is on its way

The feast of the Sun

A rebirth

A change

The dead winter has passed

And soon, spring’s first flower shall bloom

And I will be watching

And I will be waiting

For her birth

From Out On My Own by Jonathan Lamas
© 2003, All Rights Reserved.
Available on [Amazon]

Rain feel from the dark sky, cold and hard, down my face, and past my eyes, like cold, lonely tears. There’s something I Love about walking in the rain, late night, down these city streets. There’s something magical about the Village at this time. Things change, reality fades. Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can go backwards in time, and live in a day that once was. The same streets where F. Scott Fitzgerald once walked, with Zelda by his side. Where Kerouac once wrote, drank, and wandered lost, like…

The fresh, crisp air, and the deep clear sky 

Not a star to be missed, as the leaves fall to the ground 

And the trees sway in the gentle wind 

I know that I’ve seen this before 

So fall is here, once again I see 

And whatever became of the lonely summer? 

Those nights of solitude, alone with my mind 

When all I needed was a friend? 

And within my mind, I still face my battles 

That no one will see, but me 

And within my heart, I still face loss 

That no one will know, but me 

And as a child, playing in the leaves 

I…

I can hear the waves, crashing below

Perched here, upon this cliffside

A roaring fire, soon to die out

The distant flames of the past echo out into the darkness

And me, here, with my paperback “Walden”

Emerson would be proud

Nothing but starry sky above, the ocean below

This traveler of life, alone, in solitude

A celebration of where it all began

—jl

(South Carlsbad State Beach, CA May 2014)

The cool, evening breeze, whispered softly through my open bedroom window. Although I had become accustomed to its presence, its peaceful effect had not faded with time. Like one of the few things in life that is true, I had grown to accept its tranquil presence. I lifted my head from my pillow, and slowly made my way to the window. The stars were so bright in the night sky, and the air was so fresh upon my skin. It reminded me of a time and place so long ago. It reminded me of childhood in its purest form.…

Spring’s First Rain 

The first rain of spring has arrived

A cooling of the earth after a warm spring day

Falling fast, falling slow

The sound of rain hitting the street below

And the occasional sound of thunder in the backdrop

A gentle reminder that summer is on its way

The feast of the Sun

A rebirth

A change

The dead winter has passed

And soon, spring’s first flower shall bloom

And I will be watching

And I will be waiting

For her birth

—jl

From Out On My Own by Jonathan Lamas
© 2003, All Rights Reserved.
Available on [Amaz…

It’s been 25 years since Sanctuary of Expression was first published, and 28th & 7th Ave. remains one of my most personal reflections. In those early days, I often explored the city at night—drawn to its rhythm, its quiet edges, and the stillness just before dawn. I often found myself at 28th and 7th Ave., Djarum Special in hand, on my way back to Brooklyn just before dawn. Walking alone, as I do sometimes…

28th and 7th Ave.

You might find me cleverly clad, in black on black
At 28th and 7th Ave.
Late one night,…