Tag Archives: picture

My Decrepit Soul

 

light bulb man

Story inspired by this image

“Congratulations, Private Johnson, you survived Basic Training,” Dad said patting me on the back.

All smiles, I say, “Thanks Dad. BCT was – really rough, but I’m glad to be able to- to have the experience.”

“Yeah, it was the experience all right.” My sister, Jessy, is doing everything I have not been able to do for ten weeks: chew bubble gum, pop her hip out, scroll through her phone, and say ‘yeah’.

Mom swoops in for a hug, “Well, honey, I am so incredibly proud of you!”

“Thanks. You’re letters really kept me going. Letters keep everyone . . . motivated. You can just see how different people act when they haven’t – uh- received any mail to when they finally have,” I say while at parade rest, a force of habit.

“We tried to write you as often as possible, but your letters just got to us so slowly,” Mom explains.

“Yes, the mail has to go through several, um what’s the word, post offices before coming to the base and often the drill sergeants don’t pass mail out for a week.” It is so strange being the center of attention again.

“Hm, that’s too bad,” Jessy says popping a bubble.

“Well, you must be in the best shape of your life, son,” Dad says.

“No, not really. I’ve got so many ant-bites, rashes and, oh whatdacallit, a stress fracture in my hip. Yes, I gained – muscle, I’m fit. But not the best shape, no.”

I did not realize how difficult it would be to talk. I have been focused on one task at a time and clearing everything else out of my mind for so long. Stringing words together that actually make sense is so foreign to me.

The Army has one large dictionary and the only words are swear words. I hardly swore before, and now restraining from cussing only makes talking all the more difficult.

I have forgotten so much. This morning a civilian asked me if the ground was muddy. I forgot what the word ‘ground’ meant. We have all forgotten voices, lyrics to our favorite songs, names of loved ones.

I feel like my mind is a glowing light bulb, but with the cord unplugged. Where I get my energy, my motivation, my will power is gone. I cannot find it; I am so exhausted not only physically but also emotionally. I have to be strong for my family, but I can hardly be strong for myself. Somehow, unbeknownst to me, I keep going, continue to have my light glow.

More muscle than ever before, but I have never felt this unconnected to the universe outside my own decrepit soul.

 

After Now

Why is it that I find your beauty

now, so enticing?

Why now, and not before?

Why is it that you were a mere commonality before,

but now, you are gloriously enrapturing,

heart-breaking and heart-warming

Have my eyes changed?

Have you changed?

Have you transformed from a single glance

to a forever – yet ever to short -of a gaze?

Or is it me?

***

There is a painting of a ship at sea

on my office wall

I have seen it everyday for as long as I can remember

but now, after all these years

do I finally realized how beautiful it is.

I finally appreciate it.

Why now, and not before?

I have read countless books about

sailors

boats

the sea

explorers and whalers

I have learned countless history lessons about events with sailors and boats

I have seen countless movies about the sea

I have read personal accounts concerning explorers and whalers

I have ridden the open waves with no land in sight

I have stared into that sinister, powerful, murky depth

and I have stared into those mystical, lapping, crashing ocean waves

In every sense I’ve been in that painting

but until now, it was just a painting,

but after now, it has its own life

own story

own tears to cry

own cheers to shout

own dead to bury

own lips to smile

own love to find

After now, it is not just something to look at

but something to be a part of

Why now, and not before

do I love you?

Because I finally understand you

and I know that I never truly can either

img_20161216_230908340-1

Gravity

Inspired by the image

astronaut-1390007_960_720

Pixabay/user:Comfreak

Sometimes

gravity just doesn’t apply

Floating in free fall

with nowhere to fall

because not everything that goes up

comes down

when gravity just doesn’t apply

cut my tether

cut my ties

not enough oxygen for the way home

Oh man, do I have a beautiful view of home though

The World at My Feet

Inspired by the image

the world at my feet

Pixabay/user:Comfreak

Here I sit

with the world at my feet

and my dreams in the sky

But where am I?

What if I

kick off my shoes

how long will they take to land?

What if I

reach out my hands

will I touch the clouds?

Or the moon?

The stars?

The sun?

Or will I get

too close?

Too close to the sun

Instead of kicking off my shoes

will they be burned off my feet?

I see

but I cannot touch

I dream

but I cannot achieve

Here I sit

with the world at my feet

and my dreams in the sky

But where am I?

Portals to the Soul

Why is it that I chose you?

What made my eyes shine

and my heart sing

and my mouth smile

when I first saw felt you?

Eyes are portals to the soul

and you touched mine

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach

I guess the way to mine is through my eyes

Why is it that I chose you?

You are just pigments on a canvas

lines on a plane

a two dimensional object representing a three dimensional world

and yet you reached out and grabbed my heart

Not a person

Not a speech

Not a book

Not a landscape

Not a building

Not a sculpture

But a painting

I’ve never been fond of art

writing is more my cup of tea

but you

but you

but you

I figured out that I also like mango smoothies

and not just a cup of tea

***

In an old chest I found you

hidden by years and clothes and holiday dishes

put away because the wall space got cluttered

put away because the room needed to be redecorated

put away so that I could find you

I wasn’t searching for a painting

or any type of art

but I found you

Oh, the treasures we can find unexpectedly

***

Someone crafted you

someone spent time choosing

what scene to paint

what paint to use

what brush to use

someone painted his or herself into the picture

maybe not physically

but the imprint of their soul

the output of their heart

the fingerprint of their hopes

are displayed before me

The Painter’s soul went into the picture

I saw felt the picture

and now I have an imprint of the picture on my soul

Yes, eyes are portals to the soul

***

I guess I shouldn’t be asking

Why is it that I chose you?

I should instead be asking

Why is it that you chose me?

 

Pictures with Captions

mosaic-382019_640

Pixabay/Simon

 

With today’s society pictures are everywhere

Someone always has some event captured

The whole purpose of Instagram and Snapchat are pictures

Because a picture tells you a thousand words right?

I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong

Pictures may convey surface emotion,

but not what is going on underneath

Happy Family Christmas photo!

family-1023036_640

Pixabay/White77

But what if I were to tell you that in the last Christmas card there was another sister

The family is torn apart and no one can get over it

But everyone smiles for the camera!

Pictures can be facades

They can be faked

The people in the photos can act falsely

Words can describe every single detail

but can also leave out the biggest details

Lies can spiral from the perfectly shaped words

So which is better,

getting surface level stories,

or

all the details except the biggest ones?

Neither

I believe the mind is best

It’s all how you perceive it that makes the difference

I could be looking at the exact same situation as you

but see it in a totally different light

Both of us are right

but both of us could also be wrong

The mind takes in an input

from the eyes

ears

taste

touch

smell

and makes a decision

followed by thought and emotion

The mind is the best, but it is the hardest to express

So we put our perspectives in a way that we find fits best

Words or pictures

I’d like pictures with captions.

Raining Impact

Watching the heavy pouring rain

Well, more specifically watching the raindrops

hitting the puddles

The water droplets pelting the the standing water

and their ripples are what interests me

When there is a high amount of rain coming down

The raindrops have little and few ripples,

but have relative high splash up.

When the rain is not as pressured

the drops have no splash but many ripples

***

I believe that is we

as humans

are today.

We all want

and almost need to have

a big splash

something to show for ourselves

But it kicks up

with nothing lasting

not effecting others

Just something to point out

that

‘I did that!’

Leaving no effect on the world

All of us hitting the same area

so constrained

in one place.

Ourselves

***

But when we don’t fall within the masses

we have more lasting effects

Yes, no splash

but slowly

gracefully

we begin to change

the atmosphere

around us

We leave an impression

Though not as many people are

watching

and noticing

the ones who are,

are changed

forever.

***

So do you want a big splash

with people watching

and eventually forgetting?

Or many ripples

a few noticing

but being changed

forever?

Your choice.

We all fall from the same rain cloud

but it’s what you do before

you hit the ground.

 leppre / Foter / CC BY

leppre / Foter / CC BY

Smile

Is a smile saying that you’re ready to face the world or that you’re ready to face the world with a smile?

A old man who has dementia. His face is like a waterfall of wrinkles. He has no teeth and there is a gaping hole leading to his mouth. He can’t even remember his doting wife’s name. But he smiles. The wrinkles now become warm, comforting, and welcoming.

The little girl in Mali with her adult teeth first starting to poke through. Her life dire with war going all around her. Her parents are dead. She had no idea what those just beginning adult teeth will have to endure, but she smiles.

Eccdentesiast – one who fakes a smile. We all fake smiles. When we say that we are happy to see someone when we are really not. When we are trying to get something. We smile at a child’s joke to make them feel better. We smile to say that everything is all right, when it isn’t.

What is the difference between a fake, pasted on smile and a real truly joyful one? Is it the eyes? Their crinkle in the nose? The upturn of mouth a little more?  How do you make pure joy appear on one’s face?

The interesting thing about memories is that you don’t remember the actually memory, but the last time you recalled that memory. A study by Northwestern Medicine concluded the following, “This study shows how memories normally change over time, sometimes becoming distorted. When you think back to an event that happened to you long ago — say your first day at school — you actually may be recalling information you retrieved about that event at some later time, not the original event.” (More information at http://www.northwestern.edu/newscenter/stories/2012/09/your-memory-is-like-the-telephone-game.html)

Knowing this, doesn’t it make you almost not want to remember your favorite memory – in case you distort it?


We can’t remember parts of our childhood, but it seems like we can through pictures. We look back through pictures and only remember what we saw in the picture not the experience. In the pictures everyone is smiling, but we don’t remember the event enough to tell if that was a fake or real smile. Everything begins to blur together because our distorted memory.

Look at a picture of someone you know well who is their only reason for smiling is for a camera. Is it their true smile? It almost looks like the smile they give you when they truly mean it, but it’s not. What’s missing?

Now think of their real smile.

But I couldn’t. The person I’m closest to, and I couldn’t remember her real smile. Is it because I can remember her so well crying with tears streaking and heaving breathes? I can remember her angry face. I can remember the absolute terror to overwhelming love. But I can’t picture one face of her’s that shows complete and utter happiness.

So that’s why I said ‘someone you know well’ because I can picture my friends and family with their truest and real smiles, but not the person I’m closest to. I think this is because we know them too well. You know their intricacies.

Does the fake picture smile and real smile start to blur together because you are remembering it too much? Does life do this to us also? Does life turn and flip and distort what is real and what isn’t? Does the fake petty life start to take over the real? Do you lose the twinkle in your eye?

Is it worst to be told that you never had a twinkle in your eye, or that you had a twinkle but lost it?

Have we never had the real life or have we lost it?

Fake verses Real.