Re: Poems and Quotes
Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2022 10:20 pm
(reserved for "I Got Your Back".. Odd Tales From A Life I call Mine)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Names of individuals mentioned in this published book has been changed to respect their privacy. Any descriptive relation to other possible individuals; alive, dead, or resurrected , imaginary or real.. is purely coincidental. The particular style of narrative language used in this thread post is a literary vehicle of mine that I hope the reader would enjoy in coming along for the ride. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly moments which speckled my life like seasoning to an otherwise savory dish.. adding character and flavor.
......................................................
(KINDERGARTEN EXPERIENCE): Kindergarten was pretty nice. Basically it was simply "day care" with an educational story or two thrown in. Sometimes there would be numbers and the teacher might say, "John, this is the number '3'. It's a 'good' number, it wants to be your friend." At which point John would walk to the teacher's desk and she would hand him a twelve inch laminated number '3'. He would then take it back to his little desk and wonder what he was to do with this strange new friend. Was it the kind of friend he should introduce to his mom? Would it also like ice cream? (should little Johnny now have to worry about his ice cream?) Or should he set the 'number 3' free somewhere outside to be amongst it's own kind? These are the sort of unanswerable questions which come to a kid in kindergarten. After the teacher had given out all of her good numbers (1-9), no one ever asked if there were 'bad' numbers to stay away from. If numbers 99 and 87 were hiding under bridges ready to jump out and scare everyone. Or if the police department knew about them and would be on the lookout for suspicious looking numbers in the playground area. So many unanswered questions i had during that whole pregrade experience.
Into this institutionalized 'day care' experience, Bob came into my life. He had spiked blonde hair, and a warm genuine smile that would light up any room. He was immediately the best looking guy in class, Bob was THE MAN (which was odd that I was starting to notice a difference between the genders). For the few months he was there, he made friends easily and was generally well liked by everyone. For some reason which I didn't understand, he liked being around me, I made him smile. Of course this led him to also build me a house out of cardboard blocks which another kid ran through pretending to be a bulldozer. That architectural work, bob had carefully created, lining up the corners 'just so', making sure the side walls were perfectly straight. All of which took 10 minutes, but was now everywhere underfoot. Bob stood there with his hands out in apparent shock.. 'the humanity'. I just laughed and went back to my desk smiling. Bob tilted his head sideways looking at me and was probably thinking, 'just no figuring out women.' The following week the teacher said that this was Bob's last day in class as his family was moving. The day went by as they always had, except on that last day Bob took me by the hand and led me around the room trying to find privacy. He first tried another cardboard block building but again it was knocked down by the bulldozer kid. Then Bob pulled me by the hand toward the restroom (was occupied). Finally giving up, he simply kissed me and told me that he really liked me. And.. he was gone, forever. Now it was just me, the bulldozer kid, and a bunch of uncoordinated funny looking people with whom I was sharing this institutional experience with. Well, it couldn't get any worse (it got worse). So long as I could count on story time, my afternoon catered ice cream beak and my one hour nap time (gone, gone.. so gone). I would make it through this and one day soon (actually it took 12 long years) I'll get out and be free (not really). A 12 year sentence with the bulldozer kid, instead of Bob..
\(O_o)/ I'm so screwed.
......
(A GRANDMOTHER REMEMBERED.. IN MEMORIUM):
(Okay.. getting this thread back on track after that brief divergence)
Scanning along the far horizon, at the clouds above a landscape of red and orange. The little girl could find no visible sign.. that she was in the middle of a warzone. It is autumn. Most of the leaves have already turned from green, to yellow and orange, then on to red as the sap is drawn down into the root system in preparation for winter's hibernation. In the distance, birds of prey are lazily drifting on the last of summer's thermal updrafts, gaining altitude in order to spot their next meal.
Sitting near the edge of the bluff, the little girl hears the growing sounds of crushed dry leaves, someone approaches. Keeping her eyes forward, she takes notice of when the footfalls stop just behind her. The empty silence of this serene refuge is broken by a labored voice, one which she has grown accustomed to in her young life. "It's difficult to believe that this place, that we.. are a part off this war that has been going on for quite some time now, isn't it Salem?" ..No answer. A short moment of silence falls between them before the girl speaks up. "How, how did this all start anyway? Why were we even included in this war..?" The weary figure behind her steps forward and makes a place to sit beside her granddaughter . A brief breeze picks up, the dry crisp leaves rustle like an organic windchime. Sitting close now, she reaches out and lightly grasps hold of Salem's hand. The little girl looks up, the passage of time ever more showing through the wrinkles on her grandmother's kind face. "There are things unseen in life, Salem, which we have to accept on faith. There is someone after you. They want to not only destroy you, but everything good which could come from inside of you. Their kind is behind every prideful heart, behind every fake smile, behind every broken promise. I have fought the good fight, in wanting to protect my family from them.. to protect you. My strength is leaving me, and I have but little left now." The grandmother eyes soften, looking upon her granddaughter . Her wrinkled spotted hand gently tightens it's grasp on Salem's small unmarked hand. Salem looks up and a small tear forms in her innocent eyes. "Salem, don't be like that. You know that we each walk a difficult road. But it's one which leads to a wonderful place, where we would be joined again with loved ones who have gone before us. In time, when your own walk should come to it's end. I will be there waiting for you, with open arms and a strong joyful heart. Death is but another journey we all must take, and I am not afraid because I have no regrets, other than leaving you here." The grandmother reaches over with her other hand, and wipes a tear running down Salem's cheek. "My life, I do not count as my own, so I am not afraid of when the end comes. Since I was a little girl, a little older than you are now. I gave my life to the Lord and trusted that He would watch over me and my family. We are ever in His caring hands, and our needs in life are known to Him. I just wish, that I would have a little more time to spend with you. To help you to understand why it's important.." The grandmother's eyes turns downward at the daisies near her dress. She gingerly breaks the stem of one and brings the daisy to her nose, taking in the scent of the soft petals. She then passes the daisy to her granddaughter to hold. "These flowers, I've liked since when I was little. They're not fancy or prideful with thorns like roses, just simple and plain like me. Still.. I think they're quite beautiful." After leaving the fragile flower in her granddaughter's care, her wrinkled hand then rests upon her lap. "Remember Salem, the choices you make in life.. must be in a direction which is simple and plain. Like stars in the night sky, our good deeds live on to brighten the lives of others. And people's selfish deeds, is like the black night sky which stretches from horizon to horizon, so much darkness in the World." The long moment of silence followed. "You have a natural gift for humor and a caring heart, which had brought me to smile quite a few times when I was feeling poorly. Thank you, for that. You're.. different than what I would have wanted, but you're sweet and people will be drawn to trust you. But I see a bumpy road ahead for you, because of it. I guess that's just the direction the wind is moving this World deeper along into. Whatever you carry on your plate, always be true to yourself. Never stop caring for others, and helping them to smile." Facing forward, she looked across the serenity before them, the mountain tops and the valley below. Another moment of odd silence fell between Salem and her grandmother. In the distance, the horizon seemingly is ablaze with fire as the last of the sun finally sets low giving way to the oncoming of nightfall. Above them now, stars begin to appear in the sky, piercing the deep violet veil of evening sky. Like silent reminders that they would never be alone in darkness. This thought, strengthened Salem's heart, and his small hand tightened around that of her grandmother's. Salem would never need to be afraid of being alone. She would look for the one her grandmother trusted in, and things would be okay. But at this in time, Salem just.. didn't really know where to begin looking, as the World seemed a really big place and the night seemed quite dark. But one day, she will find Him, and things will be okay. Above the treetops overhead, a lone shooting star streaks through the darkened sky as if a mighty fiery finger had swiped from horizon to horizon. The grandmother looked on at the remnant of the shooting star, the ionized trail dispersing into the upper atmosphere. "I believe that when we leave a place, part of it goes with us, and part of us remains. If ever you need me.. come back to our place here and you will not feel so alone." The little girl took in a deep small breath, looked down at her small shoes, and tried to be strong, to be her grandmother's little bear and not cry. Salem felt safe there under the stars with her grandmother. A woman who had been through so much in her own life which weighed upon an already heavy heart.
She passed away a short time later, and we buried her next to her husband. Her date of passing, being a few years to the day she lost him. His absence having left an emptiness within her heart, yearning to be reunited with him one day.
Without anyone to really share my thoughts with, on that level.. my small world now seemed all the more empty and alone. Little Salem.. err I, really missed her, and would for some time to come. This special moment in the story of my life, I leave as a memorial to her. Her name was Willow, named after an old weeping willow tree when she was born, and her passing was remembered with tears.
..........
~ The School of Hard Knocks ~
-by Salem Moses, wallflower
After Salem rescues her younger brother from the high school Girl Gang.
A group of outcasts who wanted to play with Gib and didn't take well to "no".
Their leader steps through to the front of the gang and says how Salem
would never be accepted as one of their kind, she's an outcast for good
reason, and that she's nothing but trouble. "That's our opinion"..
Salem keeps her back toward the leader and slightly turns the head
to address the leader "Opinions are like nipples.. Everyone's got them".
(..still adding content, as my life journey continues)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Names of individuals mentioned in this published book has been changed to respect their privacy. Any descriptive relation to other possible individuals; alive, dead, or resurrected , imaginary or real.. is purely coincidental. The particular style of narrative language used in this thread post is a literary vehicle of mine that I hope the reader would enjoy in coming along for the ride. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly moments which speckled my life like seasoning to an otherwise savory dish.. adding character and flavor.
......................................................
(KINDERGARTEN EXPERIENCE): Kindergarten was pretty nice. Basically it was simply "day care" with an educational story or two thrown in. Sometimes there would be numbers and the teacher might say, "John, this is the number '3'. It's a 'good' number, it wants to be your friend." At which point John would walk to the teacher's desk and she would hand him a twelve inch laminated number '3'. He would then take it back to his little desk and wonder what he was to do with this strange new friend. Was it the kind of friend he should introduce to his mom? Would it also like ice cream? (should little Johnny now have to worry about his ice cream?) Or should he set the 'number 3' free somewhere outside to be amongst it's own kind? These are the sort of unanswerable questions which come to a kid in kindergarten. After the teacher had given out all of her good numbers (1-9), no one ever asked if there were 'bad' numbers to stay away from. If numbers 99 and 87 were hiding under bridges ready to jump out and scare everyone. Or if the police department knew about them and would be on the lookout for suspicious looking numbers in the playground area. So many unanswered questions i had during that whole pregrade experience.
Into this institutionalized 'day care' experience, Bob came into my life. He had spiked blonde hair, and a warm genuine smile that would light up any room. He was immediately the best looking guy in class, Bob was THE MAN (which was odd that I was starting to notice a difference between the genders). For the few months he was there, he made friends easily and was generally well liked by everyone. For some reason which I didn't understand, he liked being around me, I made him smile. Of course this led him to also build me a house out of cardboard blocks which another kid ran through pretending to be a bulldozer. That architectural work, bob had carefully created, lining up the corners 'just so', making sure the side walls were perfectly straight. All of which took 10 minutes, but was now everywhere underfoot. Bob stood there with his hands out in apparent shock.. 'the humanity'. I just laughed and went back to my desk smiling. Bob tilted his head sideways looking at me and was probably thinking, 'just no figuring out women.' The following week the teacher said that this was Bob's last day in class as his family was moving. The day went by as they always had, except on that last day Bob took me by the hand and led me around the room trying to find privacy. He first tried another cardboard block building but again it was knocked down by the bulldozer kid. Then Bob pulled me by the hand toward the restroom (was occupied). Finally giving up, he simply kissed me and told me that he really liked me. And.. he was gone, forever. Now it was just me, the bulldozer kid, and a bunch of uncoordinated funny looking people with whom I was sharing this institutional experience with. Well, it couldn't get any worse (it got worse). So long as I could count on story time, my afternoon catered ice cream beak and my one hour nap time (gone, gone.. so gone). I would make it through this and one day soon (actually it took 12 long years) I'll get out and be free (not really). A 12 year sentence with the bulldozer kid, instead of Bob..
\(O_o)/ I'm so screwed.
......
(A GRANDMOTHER REMEMBERED.. IN MEMORIUM):
(Okay.. getting this thread back on track after that brief divergence)
Scanning along the far horizon, at the clouds above a landscape of red and orange. The little girl could find no visible sign.. that she was in the middle of a warzone. It is autumn. Most of the leaves have already turned from green, to yellow and orange, then on to red as the sap is drawn down into the root system in preparation for winter's hibernation. In the distance, birds of prey are lazily drifting on the last of summer's thermal updrafts, gaining altitude in order to spot their next meal.
Sitting near the edge of the bluff, the little girl hears the growing sounds of crushed dry leaves, someone approaches. Keeping her eyes forward, she takes notice of when the footfalls stop just behind her. The empty silence of this serene refuge is broken by a labored voice, one which she has grown accustomed to in her young life. "It's difficult to believe that this place, that we.. are a part off this war that has been going on for quite some time now, isn't it Salem?" ..No answer. A short moment of silence falls between them before the girl speaks up. "How, how did this all start anyway? Why were we even included in this war..?" The weary figure behind her steps forward and makes a place to sit beside her granddaughter . A brief breeze picks up, the dry crisp leaves rustle like an organic windchime. Sitting close now, she reaches out and lightly grasps hold of Salem's hand. The little girl looks up, the passage of time ever more showing through the wrinkles on her grandmother's kind face. "There are things unseen in life, Salem, which we have to accept on faith. There is someone after you. They want to not only destroy you, but everything good which could come from inside of you. Their kind is behind every prideful heart, behind every fake smile, behind every broken promise. I have fought the good fight, in wanting to protect my family from them.. to protect you. My strength is leaving me, and I have but little left now." The grandmother eyes soften, looking upon her granddaughter . Her wrinkled spotted hand gently tightens it's grasp on Salem's small unmarked hand. Salem looks up and a small tear forms in her innocent eyes. "Salem, don't be like that. You know that we each walk a difficult road. But it's one which leads to a wonderful place, where we would be joined again with loved ones who have gone before us. In time, when your own walk should come to it's end. I will be there waiting for you, with open arms and a strong joyful heart. Death is but another journey we all must take, and I am not afraid because I have no regrets, other than leaving you here." The grandmother reaches over with her other hand, and wipes a tear running down Salem's cheek. "My life, I do not count as my own, so I am not afraid of when the end comes. Since I was a little girl, a little older than you are now. I gave my life to the Lord and trusted that He would watch over me and my family. We are ever in His caring hands, and our needs in life are known to Him. I just wish, that I would have a little more time to spend with you. To help you to understand why it's important.." The grandmother's eyes turns downward at the daisies near her dress. She gingerly breaks the stem of one and brings the daisy to her nose, taking in the scent of the soft petals. She then passes the daisy to her granddaughter to hold. "These flowers, I've liked since when I was little. They're not fancy or prideful with thorns like roses, just simple and plain like me. Still.. I think they're quite beautiful." After leaving the fragile flower in her granddaughter's care, her wrinkled hand then rests upon her lap. "Remember Salem, the choices you make in life.. must be in a direction which is simple and plain. Like stars in the night sky, our good deeds live on to brighten the lives of others. And people's selfish deeds, is like the black night sky which stretches from horizon to horizon, so much darkness in the World." The long moment of silence followed. "You have a natural gift for humor and a caring heart, which had brought me to smile quite a few times when I was feeling poorly. Thank you, for that. You're.. different than what I would have wanted, but you're sweet and people will be drawn to trust you. But I see a bumpy road ahead for you, because of it. I guess that's just the direction the wind is moving this World deeper along into. Whatever you carry on your plate, always be true to yourself. Never stop caring for others, and helping them to smile." Facing forward, she looked across the serenity before them, the mountain tops and the valley below. Another moment of odd silence fell between Salem and her grandmother. In the distance, the horizon seemingly is ablaze with fire as the last of the sun finally sets low giving way to the oncoming of nightfall. Above them now, stars begin to appear in the sky, piercing the deep violet veil of evening sky. Like silent reminders that they would never be alone in darkness. This thought, strengthened Salem's heart, and his small hand tightened around that of her grandmother's. Salem would never need to be afraid of being alone. She would look for the one her grandmother trusted in, and things would be okay. But at this in time, Salem just.. didn't really know where to begin looking, as the World seemed a really big place and the night seemed quite dark. But one day, she will find Him, and things will be okay. Above the treetops overhead, a lone shooting star streaks through the darkened sky as if a mighty fiery finger had swiped from horizon to horizon. The grandmother looked on at the remnant of the shooting star, the ionized trail dispersing into the upper atmosphere. "I believe that when we leave a place, part of it goes with us, and part of us remains. If ever you need me.. come back to our place here and you will not feel so alone." The little girl took in a deep small breath, looked down at her small shoes, and tried to be strong, to be her grandmother's little bear and not cry. Salem felt safe there under the stars with her grandmother. A woman who had been through so much in her own life which weighed upon an already heavy heart.
She passed away a short time later, and we buried her next to her husband. Her date of passing, being a few years to the day she lost him. His absence having left an emptiness within her heart, yearning to be reunited with him one day.
Without anyone to really share my thoughts with, on that level.. my small world now seemed all the more empty and alone. Little Salem.. err I, really missed her, and would for some time to come. This special moment in the story of my life, I leave as a memorial to her. Her name was Willow, named after an old weeping willow tree when she was born, and her passing was remembered with tears.
..........
~ The School of Hard Knocks ~
-by Salem Moses, wallflower
After Salem rescues her younger brother from the high school Girl Gang.
A group of outcasts who wanted to play with Gib and didn't take well to "no".
Their leader steps through to the front of the gang and says how Salem
would never be accepted as one of their kind, she's an outcast for good
reason, and that she's nothing but trouble. "That's our opinion"..
Salem keeps her back toward the leader and slightly turns the head
to address the leader "Opinions are like nipples.. Everyone's got them".
(..still adding content, as my life journey continues)