183)
I am sitting in a new seat
in an old familiar place,
crazy as possible
just to keep myself sane;
and yet, I am where I am
which is no different from the last
or the previous spots
in my life.
I am a worker,
humbled by circumstances
and a provider, if allowed to be
yet, I am sitting in my own
solitary confinement,
alone as could be,
and yet, I am in the same company
with a different mindset
and mixed with the same familiar strangers
who either lead me one step closer
or one step farther
from where I want to be.
I say this with the thought
and the comparison
that differentiates the words
further or farther; whereas farther
applies to distance, further applies
to the idea of more, or additionally,
or in light of distance,
the word further can be used
to define distance in both figurative,
or on literal terms, or furthermore,
and as this relates to me
or my life, I want to go both
further and farther
from where I am now
and to go further,
I need to move farther from where I was
so that I can further my efforts
and improve enough
to become the one
I have always wanted to be.
There is no one-size-fits-all
when it comes to real life
and there is no picture perfect
shapes or sizes because
life is always changing,
time is always moving,
and we are always evolving;
even when we don’t want to
and thus,
if I am to achieve
or to make that so-called
“jump to light speed,”
as I like to say,
then I have to do what I have to do
because it is up to me
to further my efforts;
that is, of course,
if I want to be far from my yesterday
and closer to my dream.
184)
When I am found
or when I am in my best surroundings,
or better yet, when I find myself
in the comfort of someplace grand,
like the uptown Garden in Harlem,
right of Central Park West,
which is the Conservatory
over by 105th which is not too far from
other places that hold meaning in my life
which, to me, I see this place
as an oasis or a little place of refuge or peace,
and, to me,
I link this to the perfection
of a flower that lives
in otherwise imperfect time,
and to which,
I see the beauty of how this flower
has been set in the middle
of an otherwise imperfect place,
yet, still, nothing can stop her, the flower,
from being forever beautiful
as in, like
always . . .
I have never wanted to be ugly
or see things
from an ugly or from an angry
or from a jealous perspective; however,
I am imperfect, like the flower
set in an imperfect location
in Harlem, of all places — only,
my petals have wilted to some degree,
and my fear is that someone else
is more beautiful than me.
But again,
all I can say is ah, the deception of my perception.
I see how you have tricked me again,
and I see how I have taken the bait,
only now, I have to make my way
to find my own beauty
by any means, from Harlem
to Midtown, or Downtown, Westside,
or East, or on Governor’s Island of all places;
I have to find my way
which will either bring me one step closer to my dream
or one step farther away.
185)
I think back
to an old subway ride of mine
when I saw two young kids,
romantic as anyone can be at their age,
but brilliant in the sense
that despite their age
the two had their own little picnic,
and she, longhaired with eyes like
something so deep
that they could symbolize
the mysteries of stars in a nighttime sky
or even the depth and the mysteries of the ocean;
and he, young as ever, bold
and brave, humble, and more so —
he was led by her,
or led by his love for her,
which was neither timid nor tame
but gentle and quiet in the sense
that, to him, at least from my perspective;
she was his entire world
and to them, nothing else mattered.
including me, an envious onlooker aboard the train,
noticing how they made the best
and most romantic trip
out of an otherwise normal
or everyday location.
186)
Sometimes, we have to put our toys away
and get back to work, and sometimes
we have put them away just for a while
only we forget to go back to play with them.
So, we put them away
like our valuables that need to be kept safe
or locked away, or like a toy from our youth
that we have been lucky enough
to hold on to, and still keep—and sometimes,
we forget about these things and oftentimes,
we find ourselves going through old boxes
or old things and next, and almost randomly,
we come across that old toy,
like an old memory, and we caress them
or we hold the toy
for a bit
and we remember.
Or, for another example, I found a scarf
that used to belong to my Old Man,
which was packed away
and wrapped around a little book
that was given to me
on my 13th birthday—and do you know what . . .
the scarf still smelled like him.
I have heard how people say
one day
we are going to look back
at this moment
and we are going to laugh.
I don’t know about laughing
but I do know
that when, or if, the day comes
when I finally make the jump to light speed, and if
or when I enter my dreamhouse
or cross the line
and achieve my dream;
I am going to realize
that it took a lot for me
to get to where I am now;
almost lifetimes, in fact,
and now that I am here,
I swear upon all that’s good and holy,
now that I have it
and I finally made the jump to lightspeed,
I am never letting go of this
again.
The Written Addiction 