And you start to wonder if anybody gets it
Do they know?
Do they understand?
You try to explain yourself but still,
you wonder if anything you say makes sense.
Maybe it does. Maybe there are people who get it on some level
and maybe people like us; we’re kindred
maybe
Monthly Archives: September 2022
Prose From the Soul: Scenes From an E.R. Reversal
Note:
Before going on with this, it is necessary for me to explain that the following is a combination of truths and since this is a combination of truths, then it would be safe to call this a scene of real or honest fiction.
The following is a combination of life-changing stories that opened my eyes to events that took place after a decision to enter a war on the emotional virus in our cities. Or better yet, the following is a detail of experiences from a sickness, which has taken casualty upon casualty, in all walks of life, regardless of background, finances, race, religion, location or orientation.
Prose From the Soul: Yes
I take a look around and I say yes.
I say yes because there is nothing else I can do –
or maybe the only thing I can do is breathe.
So yes. I breathe.
Prose From the Soul: Working for a Living
I was young and working in a new world with new people who came from different backgrounds and even different parts of the world.
A morning came when I was no longer fit for my life in a suit, which I changed by trading in my tie and briefcase for a blue collar life with a different level of understanding.
In which case, I learned and understood without any shadow of a doubt that life is life and work is work. I came to the realization that everyone has a boss and that no one comes to work for the food and friends, at least not for the most part.
Prose From the Soul: Game, Set, Match
I have come into the sum of so many things
which have grown bigger than I’ve realized
and gone beyond my control.
Then again, this is life;
these are the episodes of our existence
in which some are perfect and others are less than.
Some are stellar and others are unremarkable; yet,
life comes at a steady pace.
Life happens. Age happens
and in the blink of an eye,
time passes and we look back and think,
“Where’s it all gone?”
Prose From the Soul: In the Simple Terms
So, where does it begin?
Through a window or an opportunity?
Is it a curiosity? Or what is it?
Is this a need to be bad or to rebel?
Is this to overthrow the powers that be
by being defiant or is it a need for control
and to take back the brand of excitement
by disobeying a rule or an establishment
How does this start?
Is there an age where this begins?
Prose From The Soul: Making The Choice
I can’t see it. At least, not really
It’s like I can’t see the wall, the hand in front of my face,
or the life before my eyes.
There’s so much in the middle,
like the way it is in the middle of Times Square,
say like, when the ball drops on New Year’s
or the way it is at the intermission at an off-Broadway play
when everyone takes to the street for a smoke or a breath of fresh air.
Prose From the Soul: To the Mother, Curantis Omnium
End of September –
It is the start of autumn and the first chill has come around.
I am nowhere near ready for what comes next. Yet, whatever comes will come anyway
regardless if anyone is ready or not.
Our part of the northern hemisphere
is tilting away from the sun. This means that
warmth might vanish on some days
but the sunlight will prevail
Prose From the Soul: The Scene
I went to visit a place from my past,
which was unrecognizable to me now.
All the stores had changed
and the buildings looked differently to me.
Then again,
maybe everything looks different to me now,
especially the way I view myself or life; therefore, everything has changed
either physically or at minimum,
our life has changed on a cellular level.
Therefore everything has changed
because of the way we’ve adapted to it.
Prose From The Soul: And The Truth Shall Set You Free
One of the questions I’m asked is if everything I write about is true?
Or, one could offer the idea that perhaps what I write is only true to me, which it is.
This is all true to me. Everything I write is true, even when (or if) it’s not true to someone else or true; I have come to the understanding that everyone has their own version of truth. Why else do people argue? Then again, perhaps the biggest problem is that we mistake opinions for fact and therefore, no matter what we think, there is only one truth. Any other version of that truth is no longer true. It’s only true to us.