Castles Within

 I’m alone; an alone animal roaming a Covid infested world. My fellow man, although forced to stay home didn’t miss a beat, full speed ahead: angry, selfish, entitled. To what, I ask? To everything. Their space, your space, my space; space itself as they lounge upwards, bored with the mess they made of things down here.

I lounge forward too; searching for myself in memories and places within; for pockets of light I hid, from demons I encountered along the way; demons that gorge on light. Your light, my light, the light of the world itself. With the little light left in me I rebuild an entire world, because my nature demands that of me; it refuses to die. 

Dying is easy, but living it’s not hard as the canto goes; just tricky…

L.A. nights

DISCLAIMER

This is an assignment on the issue of homelessness in the city of Los Angeles. I have a few questions; and felt the need to verify the accepted sentiment that the problem is related to mental illness and drug use. Three days into this assignment and a third road keeps inviting me to a new direction.  I have taken that road. 

I am not a journalist; I am a writer. There will be no unbiased reporting, only the truth of what I see and how it affects me as well as the questions that arise. I don't, for a second, think that I will arrive at a complete understanding of why a child that was once waited for and loved by someone now lies forgotten in the city of Los Angeles. The city of angels.

I could plan this, organize it, and then post it; but decided instead to post each day and invite you along to what I see and learn, and feel.

                                              

Mother

I was by the sea

When I realized

That sadness would always be.

The memory of my mother

Just too vast to forget

It sips into me, and me and me...

I practice many religions:

meditation, visualization, exercise,

Journaling, writing...

But mother is always there

She does not die; today

Or any other day.

And whatelse is there

Besides living with her within me?

A Breeze

 

Love Affair

I remember you,

even when you are,

nothing but a feeling.

I remember you,

even when all there is,

is hints of us.

Somewhere in time,

a feeling o despair, loneliness, nostalghia.

A feeling of a loss

of something,

that was never ours:

to possess, to claim

to forever long for.

In all my memories

of you

is the present that never was

a long for what we never became;

as if we exist somewhere 

and I alone remember 

each moment of it.

Your life moves forward 

and I can’t tell whether or not,

you miss me, think of me,

even once remember my existence.

I long for what you represent:

a family,

companionship,

complicity.

All that never was; 

and isn’t that,

the ripped fabric of a lost affair?

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️