The funny thing is I remember the first time I looked at a woman and realized I had a special fascination for the female anatomy.
And I was young too. I was in second grade to be exact. And what’s more is I remember this clearly because my second-grade teacher was cruel. She was an awful looking woman who was both witch-like and equipped with gnarled fingers that resembled the limbs of crooked branches that stemmed from an old white birch tree.
She had bad breath that smelled from coffee and evil beady eyes that beamed with a cold and brutal sense of angry disapproval.
I assumed that all teachers were like thos, or like her, and angry, ugly in more ways than one and, too, I never assumed that a teacher could be younger or anything close to beautiful.
And then one day. . .
Mrs. Rowan called out sick.
Author Archives: bennyk1972
And This? This Is More
I always go back to the saying that goes, “If you don’t know, then you just don’t know.”
I’m sure you understand this, at least from your own perspective.
I love this, by the way,
The way no one else is here, except us.
I love that you and I can speak freely, at least here.
I love that I can close the door and share my things here, without worry or fear that somehow, my old truths will find their way back and the retaliation will be swift and merciless.
In fairness, I am just a kid.
I am that boy, I told you about.
I am that kid who wishes and wants and hopes that maybe (someday) I can arrive at your doorstep to see you answer the knock.
My eyes will open wide and my smile will be bigger than my face when I see what you’re wearing.
And I will hand you a corsage and weave my arm through yours, so we can finally have a dance, which I have been waiting lifetimes to have .
And this? This Is More . . .
All I knew is that I was the young one. I was the kid brother to a big brother and the youngest one in the house.
But what else did I know? Or what else could I know?
I say this as a fair question to myself because what else do we know when we are young?
What do we know, aside from the pecking order in the house. Or if we take it to the streets, or the different social places, what do we pay attention to?
What do we notice, other than the different levels of who’s cool and who isn’t?
We know who’s bigger or better, and other than the relevance of age or what it means to be a grade ahead or behind someone else, what else do you know when you’re just a kid?
I never told anyone if I had a crush . . .
Then again, who would I tell?
Or if I told anyone, what would they tell me?
But Teacher, I Am Trying (My Best)
I know there’s more for me to learn. And I will always have more to say.
I suppose this is why I will close this journal today and start a new one tomorrow.
And I know . . .
I’ve skipped a class more than I should have, —and yes, the Almighty Teacher is always watching and as far as I can tell, She is always taking attendance.
Skip a class, and She comes to find you because the Almighty Teacher is not one to give up on her students, regardless of how defiant that might be.
I hated the politics of the classrooms. And I still do.
Did I ever tell you how I used to hide in some of the closets behind a stage when I was in school?
Did I ever tell you about the anxieties that plagued me ?
Or have I mentioned how this followed me into my adulthood?
I’m sure that I have.
Of course, I have.
But Teacher, I Am Trying (My Best)
I suppose it’s true what they say. You can’t see the forest from the trees. And so, I suppose I never assumed that I would be where I am now, or if at all possible, I never thought there would be a “now,” at least, not when I was alive back then.
There is no future.
There is only this moment.
I see the world like a tiny ball of mercury, which I held in my hand once. Shimmering. Mysterious and odd.
Daring in some ways, and simple in most regards.
It is what it is, is what we always say.
But Teacher, I Am Trying (My Best)
1)
It has been said by many, if you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be.
I was told that it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
I beg to differ.
Continue readingBut Teacher, I Am trying (My Best)
If I am to find whatever it is or whatever it takes to get me to where I need to be, then I have to look and be willing to do whatever it takes to get wherever this is.
By any means. No excuses.
And should my fears intimidate me get in my way, then I must allow the depths of my will and intent to grow stronger.
I must let my will and my intent gain the strength it takes to outweigh the whispers that shout louder than my insecure screams.
There is no such thing as being inferior.
Understand?
If I am to be the person I choose to be, then I have to take the steps to achieve whatever it takes to get me to where I need to be.
And so, make no mistake.
If it is up to me.
Then it is up to me.
And so . . .
Continue readingBut Teacher, I Am Trying My Best
Morning, coffee, my dreams
The machine, which is life and the wheels
that spin . . .
Man, they are certainly turning
too fact.
It is almost March and the mad pace
of everyday life and the subways
are enough to make a man crazy
on his way home.
Another one of the City’s Homeless
decided to see if I or someone else
would take the bait and fight.
I did not meet this man halfway
but I did persuade him
to think differently about me
He agreed.
Continue readingBut Teacher, I Am Trying (My Best)
This is for you
Fran.
I suppose no one else could understand
except for you.
Then again, I suppose this is what makes you who you are.
This is why –
I love you
and this is why everyone who meets you
Loves you as well!
But Teacher, I Am Trying (My Best)
Ah, The East River.
New York City
Early at sunrise. Thursday.
Come to think of it, the sun is coming up earlier now, which means that yes, the winter will slowly give way and thaw of springtime will be here before we know it.
You have always been beautiful to me. And I have seen you throughout the years, always moving, always quiet, and always watching the world around you just like the Ever-loving Mother, and Mother of All, full of grace, Holy with attitude and generous with your judgments.
The Written Addiction 