Living A Life.

by Joseph Bolden

Living A Life

Recently my birthday had passed double five still alive.

It occurs to me that some missed opportunities, may have saved my life in various crossroads in time.

Nearly drowned in the Orchard Beach as five or six year old I think a woman saved me.

I didn’t see bright lights but didn’t feel pain just calm about it.

Volunteering for Viet Nam in 1972 or 3 at the age of 18 or 19 for the usual reasons of no jobs, didn’t, get away from home, to do something with my life.

Anyway volunteered at four branches of the military was turned down because of a lazy eye (told to drink plenty of carrot juice).

Being asked, “What if you are ordered to shoot a man?”

My first answer was a question “Why, what reason to do that?”

I guess that was the wrong way of answering a direct question because in the circumstances when given an order one’s duty is to obey without question any, most orders given by a superior or higher ranking officer.

From Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force to Air National Guard the latter is a given because of my eyesight.

I am gently turned down.
The exercise that involved jumping up and down.

I may have been too enthusiastic jumping too high and across the floor.

Oh well I know I volunteered so it’s one of those fate full choices that for anyone could change their lives.

Before that bad times in summer camp sponsored by Our Lady Of Mercy. Bright yellow shirt blue-green writing stenciled on.

My memory has pain connected because I was about to fight some kid.

My belly churns as I back up in fear and room then I’m stuck!

I had backed right into a rusty nail! Impaled, not knowing it while I fought.
Move from the place as girls screamed as red seeps out of me.

I though it was rain feeling wet and pain in my back.

A nurse at the infirmary said it wasn’t serious but gave me a preventive shot.

I still have small jagged scar on my back.
That wasn’t the only time

I was impaled.

Also speared in the throat after giving two quick,
hard rabbit punches to some guy who thought if funny to take my gym shorts down in public while outside on a grassy field as everyone was in gym class?

That’s why I rabbit punched him bloodied his nose.

The next day was his revenge as I’m speared in the throat.

Some blood looked worse than it was.

I always felt my voice had been changed because of that incident.

Girls, women, confounding mysteries always drawn to ‘em but not they to me so missed out on dances, social stuff, graduated but didn’t dance.

Traveled, bummed around Los Angeles just when a psychopath who road the rails and hunted houseless folk.

Safe in Joe’s working for room and board and later in the L.A.’s West End Skid row I would hear men mostly scream for help and wonder was it the
railway killer or some guy getting beaten up or worse because they got caught by a gang or someone just wanting beat a hobo or bum up for the fun of it knowing they get away clean.

Eventually while learning a skill I did find a woman or two taking a chance on me but as for the four letters word of love only three seemed to call on me.

As an old movie line says, “What’s sex without love?

“It's Just Sex, it's just sex.”

Better deal with the latter if the other isn’t meant for me.

So now I’m 55, there are still places to go, visit, people to know, and so what If I missed some things
I as a single healthy black male count myself as lucky in the extreme to still be alive at this stage of the game.

San Francisco is where I reside for now but that may change and its all right change is constant and I’ve tended to go-with-flow and not let too many things up set me.

I just pray to live a long vigorous, adventurous, live many good fem friends and guy buds as well avoiding old grim reaper, faking out Mother Nature for as long as science and technology will allow.

Any comments sent to

telljoe@poormagazine.org or email me at

jsph_bldn@yahoo.com