CentralPark

Note: There is the silver witch.
She finally found what she is looking for.
I dedicate this piece to life.

CENTRAL PARK
Here i sit, beneath a tree of uncertainty, shattered by my own thoughts.
I am, of course, only one in this park.
Others are joined by others to create a life.
My visions of mind are real but cannot grasp this hidden identity of life.
For all of them here are forms.
I see the children of happiness running past me with balloons.
I see a lost child with ice skates who stops to say hello.
(It is quite apparent he doesn’t know what the world’s about yet.)
I see the aged who still do love each other.
Sitting on a bench, trying to find an answer, is an aged widow no doubt.
I see the lonely people walking trying to find that special someone.
I see the bicycles of life riding past me.
I see love most of all here.
A self understanding between two people which is so hard to find.
Authority just walks by waiting for his chance to find something wrong.
I see an artist trying to bring reality into his pictures.
He’s trying to capture the merriment of paraphrases.
I see love in all forms going around me.
I sit and as the cool breeze which I was waiting for all day hits me, I
see love in action.
Looking up at the hazy sky are two people in love for a better world.
I hear the carousel and see lines of life waiting their turn for a thrill
they rarely get.
All people ride on it because the carousel is a symbol of love.
I see the branches moving slowly in a loneliness of their own.
I see a boy and his father trying to reach that special understanding.
I see the babies in carriages who are just awakening to life, could I
have been wrong about this world?
NO!
I see the beautiful girls walking by me with their own understanders.
I sit here and as I look behind this tree, I see a victim of heartbroken,
just sitting there wondering to himself that old unpredictable question,
‘Why?’
I see someone who has just been hurt trying to awake or crack up and
at which point he realized he couldn’t do it, he flew down the hill.
I see a boy and girl running against the wind, I see and feel raindrops
coming down at which point I will find the nearest shelter.
(pause)
I have been walking but did not want to find a shelter and surprisingly
enough nobody else did either.
They don’t want to leave.
I saw some girl who stopped and told me that I look like somebody she
knew. I told her she might be right but she wasn’t so she walked away.
I see the sun coming out again.
An awful lot of people must have been here to pray that hard.
I see roller skates going by me.
I see two more beautiful girls about to walk by me.
They’re young.
I see couples not matched for each other.
Reasons strictly for sex.
HA!
Any two people can love each other.
I see a girl on a tricycle.
She looks too old for it.
But so what?
She’s enjoying herself.
I see a man who stops to ask me where a boat house is.
I think I led him to the wrong direction.
I see another couple of love.
Pink ballon.
A couple of early love walking by a couple of old love.
I see that same girl who stopped me before walking around in a daze.
Maybe she’s deciding herself on me. I don’t really like her.
I see some jerk in a hurry for something.
(When is she gonna make up her mind?)
She’s no doubt waiting for someone.
see a man of dignity with three whores following him.
I see two rebels with a broad.
I see another rebellious love affair.
(Those by the way are the best kind because love is just not sex, it is an
understanding of the individuals.)
She just walked by me in a hurry. She didn’t want me to look at her again.
Mutual feeling.
I am on a bench looking out at a lake. There she is.
What is she trying to do?
I don’t have the slightest but I should talk?
She’s walking up here again.
I think she’s a witch.
A silver cape she has.
(I don’t think she has any arms.)
On the bench next to me are a boy and a girl who have just started a relationship.
I guess if you put two people in a room, they’ll have to start talking sometime.
Two rebellious girls just walked by me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
I felt we both had that understanding.
One of them turned around and looked at me and smiled.
Something became established at that point;
I entered her life and she entered mine.
The dog she was with separated us and she walked away.
I’m expecting her to come back.
Tom Paxton just walked by.
The silver witch is still there.
She’s walking back down the hill again.
Her straw hat is to keep something out.
What?
The girl on the tricycle who had just discovered her panties were
showing, hid them,
Why?
I see Noel Harrison as a child.
(Maybe because I can’t picture Rex as one.)
A brother and a sister almost ten years apart are walking and talking
despite what anybody thinks.
I don’t think those two girls will ever come back.
I’ll probably never see them again. The silver witch is gone too.
In fact, everybody seems to be leaving.
Why?
Why?
There is nothing more to see except for the statue in front of me which
makes me think of when I was happy.
I wish she were here now.
Life means nothing without her.
I love her.
And so here I sit watching life leave me.
It always does.
All that is left is one sailboat, one loneliness, one love, one broken
heart, one guy in a Good Guy sweatshirt, and my fellow minds.
Oh yes, the shooters of reality, the photographers could very well be
the brains behind you.
They’ll never forget.
But isn’t your memory a good enough image?
I certainly don’t want to remember this loneliness.
The others will remember their affairs. I have only one here to remember.
One good thing about it is that I’ll never ever forget it.