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Open Poetry #29
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An Exploration Into Faith
| Open Poetry #29 |
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An Exploration Into Faith |
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n2dmystic Member
since 2003-09-27
Posts 253beyond the doors of perception |
I remember this day so well. And it never seemed important, as a memory, until I started to question what I believed. Now I know why it is so heartfelt, and solidly a part of me. Peace Jesus, it was hot! I remember going for a hike the Merolla twins, Brian Davis We were all around eight years old Knapsacks, with lunches and water 105 degrees, if it was anything at all “Hotter than the hinges of Hades” as Gramma Elsie woulda’ said Couldn’ta said hell wouldn’ta’ said “[Edited by Moderator]” with a mouthful Days of youthful exploration The Sierra Vista housing projects Right on the ass edge of town So we left south outta’ “the Vista” as we called it across pastures, down through Hobo Jungle We used to trade flour, lard, salt and pepper for produce procured by the hobos from the box-cars at the adjacent RR yard Always with mom’s permission after the first time We follow the RR tracks down to the “Grand Canyon” It was an excavated pit at the brickyard We’d get cardboard from the RR yard slide down the sides of the “Canyon” Occasionally, a side a bit too steep Ow!, but never “wah” even if ya’ broke something Further down the tracks south towards French Camp That big ol’ Longhorn steer in the pasture ringed by large old Oaks It was 105 degrees in the shade, too We called that steer a “Texas Longhorn” probably got that from what little TV we saw My compadres weren’t much for reading or ‘ritin or ‘rithmatic, for that matter We explored the Little John, and Duck, Creeks We always called ‘em creeks, out there Never heard of a “crik” Caught crawdads, by hand tore off the tails, built a little fire cooked ‘em like marshmellows, on a stick They are tasty when fresh not like those dirt tastin’ things I tried once in Louisiana and again in Florida We explored the fields around the airport theorizing about flight wishing we were the “Right Brothers” Back north, across a field, was “Plum Nelly” a ragged-assed shanty town on the edge of the projects It was “Plum” outta’ town “Nelly” out the county Beyond “Plum Nelly” was St. Linus’ the Catholic Church of my youth Though, to make a point there would be no church in my adolescence I learned to pray there and played softball there on the Wombats, no less Neither a good name or a bad experience That name would later become a source of embarrassment But that is for a later... As we trudged wearily, merrily across the field, in the withering heat of a San Joaquin Valley summer day toward St. Linus’ the strap of my knapsack cut into my shoulder. I uttered a complaint to my comrades Then seeing that big-assed crucifix out in front of the church with Jesus forever publicly agonizing I remember saying... “If Jesus can carry that cross for me, I can carry this pack...” Peace, Joe in the big MT seeking the serendipitous magical mysteries of life's ubiquitous twisteries [This message has been edited by Sunshine (10-02-2003 08:19 AM).] |
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| © Copyright 2003 Joseph D. Carreno II - All Rights Reserved | |||
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QjQ Member Elite
since 2003-04-18
Posts 3756U.S.A. |
interesting write,,,, |
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n2dmystic Member
since 2003-09-27
Posts 253beyond the doors of perception |
hey y'all, don't be afeard, I ain't no evangelist. This one is about a child exploring life and building a bedrock for faith. It's not a commercial for the blah, blah, blah. Peace, Joe |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Joe~ This was a great story, because of how it was told and b/c it made me remember how desperate I was, while growing up, to have something to believe in...my agony over needing, yet not finding, something solid that made all the madness make sense... Well done! Susan |
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n2dmystic Member
since 2003-09-27
Posts 253beyond the doors of perception |
susan, again thank you for affirming me, and I'm glad you could find something to i.d. with. blessings Peace, Joe |
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