This is a short poem that was written to set a few things free. This was written on a white screen that was blank in the beginning with a white glow shining on my face and reflection in my eyes.
This was begun before the sun or before the hours when my alarm clock songs; but more importantly, this was written with the intention to purge the soul.
One pole south –
This is the low point and where the hole seems bottomless
and therefore the fear of falling is real
and relevant – or therefore,
the understanding of gravity pulls too much weight,
which makes it hard to stand some times
There was an old man who lived on a quiet block in a little town.
His house was one of the first to be built. Times were different then.
One morning, he came out and the moving truck pulled into his driveway.
His daughter and son in-law phoned saying they would be there soon and not to worry.
There it is, a great big world which is right outside of our door. This is alive and well, even if we don’t choose to see it.
I think, of course, and wonder of places such as certain cities, like say, places that I’ve only seen in pictures, like San Francisco or maybe Wyoming or even Alaska.
Or then again, my pilgrimage to anywhere could begin from anywhere; in which case, I have this urge to board a train and ride the railroads that span across our country. This way, I can see it all.
The morning was like a brief interlude after a night out with friends. As usual, I was up early because I’ve always had trouble sleeping on floors. Let alone, I never slept much anyway, least of all, as late as the rest of my friends who were sleeping it off the night before. No one else was awake in the small apartment, except for Pete. We were both sleeping on the floor because Steve already took the couch and the beds were all taken. Besides, this was not our apartment.
Someone talked about stigma the other day.
I shake my head when this comes up –
I remember someone telling me about my tattoos and how this brands me. I was told what this does to my appearance to which I said, at least you can see who I am.
You can’t always say this about the plain skinned or the people who hide in plain sight.
I hear people talking about the City and how she’s changed. I keep thinking to myself that maybe it’s us who have changed. Maybe it’s us who have forgotten to take care of the streets or how to clean up after ourselves. So, in fairness, maybe it’s not the City at all.
Maybe it’s us.
I keep hearing about the problems with our sanitation and the problems with the homeless and how the City has lost its way because of crime. But again, I don’t see this as a problem of the City. I see this as a problem of the people. I see this as a reminder that we have forgotten what it means to show the pride of ownership. I see this as symptomatic errors that result from real problems.
It is another morning in August, the ninth, I believe.
Well, here I am world.
Here we are in the northern hemisphere, rounding the orbit where Earth begins to tilt away from the sun. The hours of sunlight will become shorter and soon enough the winds will become cooler and even sooner, this year will become last and next year will be another spin around the sun.
I was thinking about the childish games we play, like social chess or interpersonal checkers. I think it would be just as well if we admitted to all of this. Or, maybe it’s more fun if we went back to a simpler time – like say, maybe we can play a game of marbles – or maybe we can shoot for it or play rock, paper scissors or something like that.
I have an idea. Then again, let’s just call it that. It’s an idea and yet, the details to me are unrealistic at best. But either way, the idea is real and a bit more than one-dimensional.
I have been watching videos of flying lessons. To be clear, I’m not afraid to fly. At least not when I’m sitting in a seat on a flight out of places like JFK or LaGuardia or maybe even Newark, which is not a bad place as far as airports go.
It’s not a bad feeling to be in first class or business class when they pass by with a hot towel and pre-flight beverage of your choice.
I am somewhat of a person who thinks too often and thinks too deeply. And yet, maybe I am a person who doesn’t think too clearly or if I think at all, I often wonder if I think before I speak.
I am a real person in which I have a heart that beats. I have lungs that breathe and a mind that works – at least to some degree.
I am a son to the world. I am a connection to an extension of all that led up to this moment.
I am me; in which case, if I am to admit or if I am to claim anything – then let me start here.
Right now. Perhaps to you this may seem too vague or too abstract; to me, this is only a section of time and a moment of beauty. This is me enjoying a stream of words that flow so easily now because there are no distractions around us. No, it’s just me. And it’s just you.