The last thing I remember is her,
That diminutive vision of grace,
Standing in my kitchen,

Upon impact,
Once I uttered my acknowledgement of my impending end,
I longed for a friend,
Hoping to convey my regrets,
Praying she knew how amazing I knew she was

For three hours,
One minute and 30 seconds,
I was unconscious,
Praying to hear the mortal chorus,
Asking me to join them amongst the living

I couldn’t,
My body wracked with pain,
I struggled to wake up,
Knowing I had something to live for,
I approach the door,
Faintly teeming with life,
Entering without a hint of fright,
But with longing,

Only to awaken,
Grateful to see another living being

© Gregory J. Broderick 2018


Meditation #361

As I walk,
I have no reason to balk,
nor shake with fear,
For as long as I hear,
the stillness along the pier,
Gazing midtown from across the river,
I have no reason to frown,
Feeling that eternal quiet,
Residing between my ears,
Knowing all is right,
With me,
myself and I,
and the world around me

© Gregory J. Broderick 2018


I know I’m home,
Not when the bells of St. Stephen tolls,
But when I climb Mt. Moriah,
The beacon of Beacon,
Looking across the Hudson Valley,
Soaking it all in,
Knowing deep in my soul,
Hardened by years of New York City living,
that I’m finally home

© Gregory J. Broderick 2018

Untitled #605

One month after the crash,
The one that ruined my nose,
And shot my dreams of business ownership through the hose,
Leading into the dumpster of broken dreams,
I look at my life,
Resplendant in tons of work,
Little time for me,
Noticing that my heart hurts,
Asking how can this be?

Is this what my life has become,
All work and no play,
I hardly have time to sleep,
Let alone frolick and be gay,
Is there more to my life than this?

© Gregory J. Broderick 2018

Russell Street Gratitude

As I stand awake,
I rejoice in my current fate,

And I didn’t die

My still being HERE proof that if I can survive this,
I don’t need to doubt myself,
I can leave my fears on the shelf,
And simply walk,
Knowing as long as I walk tall,
I have nothing to fear,
For if I survived a hit and run,
I still have a chance,
To enjoy my time here on sweet mother Earth

© Gregory J. Broderick 2018


I survived my second hit and run,
The BMW who hit me let it be,
So that I experienced flight,
For a brief second,
Before I hit the fire hydrant,
And had the light,
Knocked the fuck out of me

Making a living no longer seems fun,
Knowing that at any minute,
My next turn could be my last,
Stride down the streets I know and love,
My profession fit me like a glove,
I pray to that eternal dove,
That shining light of what’s heavenly and Right,
To give me the fight,
To keep going once I heal,
So eventually I can feel,
That feeling of knowing I too did this,

As I look upon my brother courier,
Striding down the streets I know all too well,
And picture as clear as a bell,
The skyline I viewed with amor,
Knowing a legion envied me,
As they lay stuck in their office cubicles,
While I strode down the avenues,
Taking advantage of the fact that I got to do what they never get a chance to do stuck in their cubicles,
Enjoy the city and smile

© Gregory J. Broderick 2018

505 × 66

I joined the Navy,
Hoping to be,
The ME,
I wanted my mother to see

Slightly brash,
I looked at the Stethem,
Hoping I could be THEM,
The men I saw walking about,
Knowing they wanted to serve,
Bundling up the nerve,
Putting duty over self

As I walked towards the pier,
I wished I drank a beer,
Or three,
To swallow the fear I had in my soul,
Praying not to be found out,
Not just as a newly awakened gay,
Or willing to serve,
I prayed for the nerve

Walking around the Stethem,
Down the passageways,
And around the narrow bends,
I now can see,
That when Freddie Mercury sang spoke about how he had to get out of this prison cell,
How one day he was gonna be free,
I thought he talking about me,
And the dread of knowing,
No matter how free I thought I was,
No longer a tenant in the house of dysfunction,
I knew as I prayed to simply function,
Aboard my new 505×66 prison cell,
My new reality of Navy Service rang clear as a bell,
I fell,
Knowing I simply moved 4,000 miles away,
Hoping to keep my demons at bay

© Gregory J. Broderick 2000, 2018