Non-Fiction
True Stories of Our Real World, Real Stories of Our True World

Every Day Acts of Peace

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Saturday, September 10, 2011

Los Angeles 2010: I Fully Exist

My poems took me my entire life to produce.
The stories I tell are non-scripted aberrations 
of time, travel and tension.

My earlier work was absurd, 
violent, non-linear and sad.
Lesions oozing 
from the world of stirred realities 
and confused illusions.

I never knew which was which …
but I always felt 
every breath deeply 
and every tear dramatically –
that is when I could cry…
most times my eyes were blind and dry.

I had seen, and given, too much of myself
to produce expendable moisture of any kind.
I gave away my Soul 
each moment 
while creating the art of my living.
I gave away my Soul 
performing for the masses 
of undesiring audiences.

I no longer stand 
on window ledges and rooftops 
watching pedestrians,
shouting out to them, 
at them 
or with them…

Nor do I write of wounds
to perpetuate 
the violent complexity 
of my inner struggle,
and Self-defeated Self-esteem.
I no longer bang my head 
against walls, sidewalks 
or doorways to the unknown.
I no longer roam the streets homeless,
rejected and denied
with no place to sleep,
and no sleep to reap deeply fulfilling dreams.

There are things that I have seen 
that no one should ever have to see.
There are words that I have heard spoken 
that no one should ever have to hear.
Due to it all, this experience called life -
of living hell 
and questionable mental sanity -
I have blossomed.

I have flowered from a seed hiding, 
germinating, in the dirt,
into a woman forged of fortitude.
Strong to battle standing up 
the chaos of the world within,
and the world without.

I think I am foolish enough 
to always find a store of optimism,
to forgive everything 
and wake up the next day, 
fully present,
having forgot the ruin 
and destruction of the past day before.

I truly believe that I am a loving person,
and that each moment is an opportunity 
to redefine myself, to myself, for myself.

I fully believe that each day is an exercise 
in discovering new ways to love myself,
no matter what…
and so the journey goes on until it ceases to exist…
and my eternal, I, further ventures
into the wonderland of the bodiless soul of adventure,
and I will never cease, nor desist, 
because without a doubt, I know, I fully exist.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
 William F. Scolavino wrote;
“The height of your accomplishments
will equal the depth of your convictions.”