The Secret Life of Boys...and Angels
I got a story to tell. How about you?
This is a short ghetto haiku version of a short story...Originally posted Friday, February 09, 2007
Click here to read the full version
The Secret Life of Boys...and Angels.
Current mood: grateful
Category: Religion and Philosophy
O nce upon a time, there was a boy about the age of 8 or 9, in the midst of a "runaway". He met another in the middle of a "walkaway". For one it was first time he saw eyes bigger than his. For the other, it was the first he heard a voice bigger than his. No one teased the other for it. It was the first time they spoke on their true level. So much wiser even then.
They snuck into the BAM (Brooklyn Academy of Music) on Fulton St., hopped the fare on the No.2 train to Prospect Park, enjoying the colors and treasures of MOMA (Museum of Modern Art). For one it was the education that his school didn't provide. For the other, it was more, more and more knowledge. Neither puffed a cigarette, neither drank a brew. But, both knew the language of the dopefiend well thanks to their mommys and environment.
They were simply being boys with shit on their minds that they didn't know what to do with. Dad sure could have helped a little if he were around. They said that they would be better than that one day. Loners by nature, with no leaders to show the way.
They took all the rubber bands from the guard's desk on the way out. They made slingshots and shot at the rats floating belly up in the lake in Prospect Park. Walking and talking down Flatbush Ave. back towards the Fulton. One boy got back to his block. The other hopped the train on Bergen St.
A while later, they would cross paths again at a methodone clinic near Yankee Stadium with their Moms. Both waited patiently while mom's picked up her orange juice and Methadone cocktail.
Years, years later, the boys would meet again in the land of LaLa. One would remember and recount to the other about the experience and it's impact. The other boy became aware of the weight of what was said to him that day, years later when he finally woke up. The other boy was never seen again after that day, but remembered forever by the other.
It's amazing when you think of how many angels have crossed your path in your life. We never know how long we are here. Take a moment to see those angels while in the middle of our journey. Just a thought.
M.
©2007 Mailon Rivera. All Rights Reserved.
Currently reading :
Thinking and Destiny
By Harold W. Percival
Release date: June, 1987
This is a short ghetto haiku version of a short story...Originally posted Friday, February 09, 2007
Click here to read the full version
The Secret Life of Boys...and Angels.
Current mood: grateful
Category: Religion and Philosophy
O nce upon a time, there was a boy about the age of 8 or 9, in the midst of a "runaway". He met another in the middle of a "walkaway". For one it was first time he saw eyes bigger than his. For the other, it was the first he heard a voice bigger than his. No one teased the other for it. It was the first time they spoke on their true level. So much wiser even then.
They snuck into the BAM (Brooklyn Academy of Music) on Fulton St., hopped the fare on the No.2 train to Prospect Park, enjoying the colors and treasures of MOMA (Museum of Modern Art). For one it was the education that his school didn't provide. For the other, it was more, more and more knowledge. Neither puffed a cigarette, neither drank a brew. But, both knew the language of the dopefiend well thanks to their mommys and environment.
They were simply being boys with shit on their minds that they didn't know what to do with. Dad sure could have helped a little if he were around. They said that they would be better than that one day. Loners by nature, with no leaders to show the way.
They took all the rubber bands from the guard's desk on the way out. They made slingshots and shot at the rats floating belly up in the lake in Prospect Park. Walking and talking down Flatbush Ave. back towards the Fulton. One boy got back to his block. The other hopped the train on Bergen St.
A while later, they would cross paths again at a methodone clinic near Yankee Stadium with their Moms. Both waited patiently while mom's picked up her orange juice and Methadone cocktail.
Years, years later, the boys would meet again in the land of LaLa. One would remember and recount to the other about the experience and it's impact. The other boy became aware of the weight of what was said to him that day, years later when he finally woke up. The other boy was never seen again after that day, but remembered forever by the other.
It's amazing when you think of how many angels have crossed your path in your life. We never know how long we are here. Take a moment to see those angels while in the middle of our journey. Just a thought.
M.
©2007 Mailon Rivera. All Rights Reserved.
Currently reading :
Thinking and Destiny
By Harold W. Percival
Release date: June, 1987
