such a daydreamer
creating fantastic worlds
believing in truth
expecting good to defeat
the dark forces of evil
but that’s an old movie plot
and when one grows up
it’s found that even movies
have modified scripts
showing that evil does win
and the only place that’s left
for good is that old tree house
never learned
to
swim
but
pretended
would crawl
underwater
until
needing
to stand
for
fresh air
then
submerge again
crawling
until
the water got
too
deep
that’s when
i’d
turn around
and
head
for
the shores
society
had
defined
as
safe
for
my
race
and
class
of
existence
pretty much
like
much
of
my life’s
journey
and
extent
of
my freedom
infant child care safe and nurturing home away from home promised growth and learning through play that’s the solution private preschool individualized sterile instruction on how to succeed in life through monitored behavioral goals that’s the solution sessions with a child psychologist topics vary attempting to define what does not exist that’s the solution private structure school designed to cater to the individual while shaping the young mind for social conformity that’s the solution parenting classes with joint child psychological counseling topics vary redefining what does not exist that’s the solution public education mingling with the common folks without the social tools to separate the desires for acceptance from socially approved processes of acquisition that’s the solution world travel isolated from peers to gain insight of the world without addressing the desires for acceptance that’s the solution boarding school designed to cater to the individual while shaping the young teenage mind for social conformity that’s the solution
each night the same prayers were said before meals and bed the child wondered in his head whether or not god had a hearing problem and so like with his grandmother things needed to be repeated or whether god was like uncle joe terribly forgetful needing to be reminded daily of the chores assigned to him by grandfather perhaps neither of those were true perhaps god was an obstinate child refusing to respond to requests in prayers unless the number of requests equaled the critical breaking point of his parents’ patience that breaking point just before unwarranted punishment that seemed to be the most logical conclusion and indeed one he could identify with
old photos on an oak chest a family reunion like every 4th of july when grandmother expected all her children to join together at walnut creek to celebrate family and survival a picnic lunch prepared by her fourteen children uncles and aunts all assigned to bring enough food for a small army of husbands wives and grandchildren a scouting party was always sent out in advance to claim the best shady spot since other clans met there that day with each race in separate areas of the park there were of course explosions emotional as well as fireworks before the day was done some relatives swearing never to return but always arriving the next year but when grandmother died so too did the drive for reunions and soon just as these old photos will be placed in a box for a yard sale or just tossed away the reunions were forgotten
a burst of cold air mingles with spring rain sending chills down spines of overeager campers campers pitching tents along the riverbank in hopes of finding lost treasures but discovering only plastic bottles without pirate maps or messages from long-lost lovers nor was there found ancient arrowheads from long vanquished tribes known by all school children to have dined upon a fare of human veal but fearlessly these pilgrims of adventure prepared their meal of can beans and over-processed hotdogs sharing their culinary delights along with ghost-story desserts falling soundly asleep until the coyotes reminded them of where they were
we
like all boys do
made from mud and bricks
a dam
to hold back the flood of tears
which fell as rain
from the eyes of angels
so that we might sail our ships
across this ordained
yet demonic sea
ships made from
now forgotten dreams
and small pieces of wood
with sails
of gum wrappers
and string
and when our ships were ready
we began our journey
to lands uncharted
within our minds
Read Between the Minds 