the ‘be’ series | apersonaljourney - stories of love

Category: the ‘be’ series
- How To Return
  
  Posted at 2:44 pm by a quiet man, on October 13, 2021
  Afraid to go back there anymore
  
  a memory of when,
  
  why this exists here today,
  
  and the questions will now land
  
  a soft thud upon the ground,
  
  the moment gone,
  
  energy sucked into the vaporous
  
  nature of a hidden cavity
  
  of angst and pain and silent
  
  confusion.
  
  ~
  
  I wanted to go back there
  
  love the memory
  
  the times we could together,
  
  and then that sharp pain,
  
  a jab in my side,
  
  blood is still in tact, hasn’t begun to pour yet.
  
  ~
  
  There is a standstill with pain,
  
  a thoughtful reflection
  
  now stained with the grief of my cries,
  
  for it was then we held each other close,
  
  the world around us didn’t matter
  
  but we did,
  
  the two of us eyes in eyes,
  
  we only felt the beauty of our time
  
  to be the moment,
  
  this moment so far away today.
  
  ~
  
  I cannot return anymore, though I wish I might
  
  while today I wait, I consciously wait.
  
  © Scott F Savage 10/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 1 Comment | Tagged conscious, going home, home, poetry, story
- Sideswiping Paradigms
  
  Posted at 10:14 pm by a quiet man, on October 12, 2021
  Oh, to challenge the remedy too a palace
  
  such wisdom in a forest of intellectual superiority.
  
  This property well maintained,
  
  deeply hidden,
  
  carries a certain fortune of solitude now
  
  wouldn’t you say,
  
  Dr. Jones.
  
  ~
  
  We shifted over to that side
  
  when (sum) subtracted attitude
  
  suddenly surmised a solution.
  
  ~
  
  If I could remember just exactly
  
  the point I would make,
  
  if in defense of some motive
  
  toward, something resolve worthy.
  
  ~
  
  When there does happen
  
  an answer, some lightning rod
  
  moment
  
  suggests life is apparent,
  
  like painting a Michelangelo, such excitement
  
  as letters pour off of my fingertips.
  
  How many slaps of enamel
  
  before recognizing … this direction
  
  over here is a returning
  
  ceremony, when we all,
  
  everyone, including you,
  
  give one sovereign commitment
  
  to joining,
  
  no it won’t be no ‘joining hands’ here malarkey.
  
  Only then can the base be applicable
  
  some starting point,
  
  a strategy, no doubt.
  
  The faces and skies and trees would appear
  
  as the world slowly becomes
  
  a picturesque painting.
  
  ~
  
  So sudden was the need to redefine
  
  its,
  
  their,
  
  -some silly goose say-
  
  sort of focus on immediacy
  
  of such is a waffling decay
  
  suggesting no other lead analogy
  
  fitting.
  
  ~
  
  The end line then be obscure.
  
  © Scott F Savage 10/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments
- Standing Alone
  
  Posted at 12:59 pm by a quiet man, on October 8, 2021
  He chose this place
  
  without listening,
  
  showing no meaning
  
  beyond his own self-serving
  
  anxiety.
  
  Undefined in its resolute manner
  
  to ignore the need
  
  of others,
  
  those important people in our lives
  
  and he would
  
  sacrifice them all
  
  to be heard, heard even by
  
  him alone.
  
  How do we withstand
  
  such a self
  
  that forgets anyone else
  
  those who matter
  
  seem forever drawn into a maze
  
  of misunderstanding and lost
  
  passion.
  
  Scott F Savage 10/2021
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- A Once Upon a Time
  
  Posted at 12:25 am by a quiet man, on October 8, 2021
  Once in a dream she appeared
  
  in a fashion of elegance
  
  he would watch her move
  
  the soft luxury of a sway
  
  feeling her near
  
  his heart might race
  
  her smile would erase
  
  any quiet fears he may
  
  all aspects of anxiety
  
  drawn away in her eyes
  
  he could
  
  would rather live another
  
  day
  
  than force himself
  
  to live apart
  
  from her.
  
  © Scott F Savage 10/2021
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- Mindful Collapse
  
  Posted at 11:10 am by a quiet man, on October 3, 2021
  I have to step outside but I don’t know how
  
  I’m losing my mind
  
  seems every word, notion, afterthought, tomorrow
  
  is about me
  
  my words
  
  my me.
  
  And I want to step out and explore you
  
  the, they, when, how, we all contribute.
  
  Yet, help me imagine
  
  one less enigma, (oh careful now)
  
  speak less disparagingly
  
  said the fraud
  
  selling me his last nickel.
  
  I’m everywhere
  
  in my own mind,
  
  and yet, I only have this window,
  
  this crowded view of my
  
  front door,
  
  my neighborhood
  
  this city
  
  our world, planet,
  
  one.
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 1 Comment | Tagged anxiety, collapse, free verse, Life, mind, stream of consciousness
- Posted at 10:19 am by a quiet man, on October 3, 2021
  There’s that Hollywood movie
  
  always playing in my mind,
  
  every thought find a correlation
  
  like some scripted reality.
  
  And yet I don’t know if he was happy
  
  when I wrote the words.
  
  Right now looking back
  
  still trying to put all the pieces together
  
  otherwise no matter
  
  jumping further ahead
  
  and confusion
  
  that inner soul
  
  lay in question
  
  wondering just why
  
  do we choose the lives we
  
  chose.
  
  © Scott F Savage 10/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged delusion, free verse, poetry, stream of consciousness Read On →
- It’s An Experiment
  
  Posted at 10:13 am by a quiet man, on October 3, 2021
  Haven’t any idea where,
  
  weighing risks
  
  but isn’t life filled with change
  
  the need to backfire gone
  
  more security
  
  finding that path that includes
  
  yourself
  
  no one else inside this bubble
  
  a protection
  
  and though the need for a flourish
  
  always whistling
  
  helps him become whole
  
  again.
  
  © Scott F Savage 10/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged experiment, free verse, inhibition, words
- Posted at 10:02 am by a quiet man, on October 3, 2021
  One Saturday the words wouldn’t come,
  
  though standing just outside
  
  the blue,
  
  this letter would let me
  
  feel the beauty of her soul.
  
  Gathering in her exhale
  
  stark and bellowing
  
  is such a contrast
  
  to the gentle soul,
  
  the missing affection,
  
  lacking a resilient rapture.
  
  Fixing ugly takes aspects of real
  
  and lets the mind
  
  wonder without resolve
  
  just how far will this journey last?
  
  Yet then the ceiling, that centerpoint
  
  for finding form,
  
  the touch of her hand
  
  keeps me there,
  
  standing outside her door
  
  Saturday morning.
  
  © Scott F Savage 10/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged free verse, stream of consciousness, words, writing Read On →
- Sweet Response
  
  Posted at 12:46 am by a quiet man, on October 2, 2021
  It happened one night
  
  just like the movies
  
  she and him walking away
  
  yet sticking close
  
  the rains meant something
  
  walking around the block
  
  she would be near
  
  and then he sometime away
  
  both of them
  
  wandering yet staying close
  
  staying close
  
  staying some sort of definition.
  
  Until then,
  
  we did find our way home,
  
  unsure, lacking a romance,
  
  and yet later she said
  
  days later
  
  weeks later even
  
  “I wish you had hugged me.”
  
  © Scott F Savage 10/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged eyes, hug, rain, walk
- Gallery Humor
  
  Posted at 12:35 am by a quiet man, on October 2, 2021
  I one time took a walk through an art gallery. I was with a friend and we both had a particular stake in mind. Our goal was to make it through the gallery in one piece because we were both high. We were traveling at lightning speed in our heads having felt our minds slow down to a crawl enough to invest in awareness of everything around us. This feeling was compounded with a general anxiety that burst exponentially in comparison to a regular day.
  
  I remember for me I went to my favorite pieces and throughout my travails discovered a woman in black. I say so with no degree of embellishment. She was indeed someone who holds a later story. For now I want to speak of my friend, and general concern and empathy for what he was going through. He was certainly an introvert and didn’t enjoy being around people. The gallery was sparsely populated today so that helped his state of mind a great deal.
  
  Later would be our cathartic trip that neither of us ever imagined. We walked out of the art gallery with two different ideals in mind. I personally believed a woman in black followed me throughout the gallery, myself being far too self-conscious to imagine a conversation or interaction. I felt flattered and equally humbled by having such an occasion occur. My friend on the other hand was relieved. He made it through portions of the gallery and felt satisfied. We proceeded out the door with a sense of accomplishment – an education of sorts.
  
  We walked right into a courtyard celebration of spring and all the blossoms and beauty of a peak time of year, on a sunny day, with an energy festive and important. I realized in the moment a dear friend of mine was playing the violin on a set up stage for the event. She was in a band and and would take break soon. I looked at my friend and said we are going to have to hold a conversation with her. His eyes looked at me with panic, and I suggested he let me do all the talking. We will move on fast.
  
  So we did just that. Jenny came up to us, we spoke of the events of the day. She was moving to Philadelphia soon so we chatted that up a bit. I introduced her to my friend as sort of a parting goodbye, and my friend looked at Jenny and said,
  
  “It’s like one big living room out here.”
  
  © Scott F Savage 10/2021
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  Posted in commentary, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged art gallery, fiction, non-fiction, story
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Category: the ‘be’ series

Posted at 2:44 pm by a quiet man, on October 13, 2021

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Posted at 10:14 pm by a quiet man, on October 12, 2021

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Posted at 12:59 pm by a quiet man, on October 8, 2021

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Posted at 12:25 am by a quiet man, on October 8, 2021

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Posted at 11:10 am by a quiet man, on October 3, 2021

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Posted at 10:19 am by a quiet man, on October 3, 2021

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Posted at 10:13 am by a quiet man, on October 3, 2021

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Posted at 10:02 am by a quiet man, on October 3, 2021

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Posted at 12:46 am by a quiet man, on October 2, 2021

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Posted at 12:35 am by a quiet man, on October 2, 2021

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