Living A Life.

by Joseph Bolden

Living A Life

Recently my age double five still alive.

It occurs to me I’ve missed opportunities, which may have saved my life at various crossroads in my life.

Nearly drowned at Orchard Beach at 5 or 6 years old I think a girl or young woman saved me.

Saw no bright lights, did feel calm floating around.

Volunteered for Viet Nam in 1972 or 3 at the age of 18 or 19 the usual reasons no job, leaving home,the military makes men, or to do something with my life.

Anyway I volunteered at four branches of the military plus The Air National Guard.

Was turned down because of a lazy eye

[told to drink plenty of carrot juice.]

All it did was make my stool orange and learned I liked carrot juice, cookies, and cake.

It could have been after being asked,
“What if you are ordered to shoot a man?”

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

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

Not being a perfect specimen because of faulty sight may have indeed saved me from that war.

Also while exercising that involves jumping up and down I may have been too enthusiastic jumping too high and across the floor.

Oh well I did volunteer so it’s one of those fateful choices that could change anyone’s life.

Before that bad times in summer camp sponsored by New York's Our Lady Of Mercy Church.

Bright yellow shirt green writing stenciled on.

Pain connected memories.

I'm fighting another kid.

With a fear churning belly, backed up for room to fight, then I’m stuck!

I had backed into a nail.
impale or Impaled! don't which is right but I couldn't move!

A wooden box or pallet turned with the nails exposed.

Couldn’t move forward, back shoots shocks of pain through me.

Not knowing this as I fought girls are screaming and gasps from other kids.

Some bigger kids and adults separate us.

Blood drips from the wood on to the ground only then did I see the bent, rusty nail as I with help was pulled slowly forward
from the wooden structure.

My blood gleams seems to glisten in the morning sun.

Little girls scream, crying,touch my back, shoulders as if they feel my pain before I can.

Red seeps from me.

I was thinking its raining feel my back wet.

Girls crying make me sad is all I was thinking.

I’m rushed to the a nurse at the infirmary.

She says its not serious but gave me a tetanus shot.

I still have a jagged scar on my back.

I'm able to go to summer camp, the new hole in my back is no big deal.

Years later when my mother, brother, and I moved I thought it was because of the divorce looking back it may also have been because of that incident.

That wasn’t the only time I was impaled.

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

I rabbit punched him, bloodied his nose.

for me its over, wrong.

The next week was his revenge as I’m speared in the throat by a shopping cart weighed down by football equipment
including two bars used to raise another bar to jump over.

The guy pushes the cart running with it, somebody yells."look out!"

Too late I'm speared in the side of my neck!

I'm on the grass holding my bleeding throat.

It looks worse than it really is.

I Bleed profusely from near the jugular vein is scary.

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

It is only now I’m trying to see if I have any singing voice at all.

Girls, women were and still are confounded mysteries always drawn to ‘em but not they to me so missed out on dances, social stuff, graduated danced a little.

Bummed around L.A. just when a psychopath who road the rails hunted and killed transients/
homeless now called houseless folk.

Safe in Mr. and Mrs. Joe’s church/house working for room and board in L.A.’s West End Skid row
before doing the same in The Salvation Army.

I could hear screams 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 on someone who has less than they have knowing they’d get away clean because society didn’t care.

Was this the beginning of criminalizing transients, houseless, jobless, and youth creating or increasing more disposable people besides families or single mom’s or dad’s on welfare?

Eventually while learning a skill I did find a few women taking a chance on me.
As for the four letters word of L-O-V-E

I missed that call to me.

As an old movie line says, “What’s sex without love?
“It’s Just sex, it’s just sex.”

Better the latter if the other isn’t meant for us.

Now I’m 55, there are still places to go, visit, people to know.

I know to go forward not backup and avoid sharp objects or persons with sharp objects and really before speaking listen to women most of 'em help too few to mention have hurt me.

So what If I missed some things as a single healthy black male I count myself as rare and lucky in the extreme to still be alive at this stage of the game each day is God/Goddess given gravy.

San Francisco is where I reside for now that may change its all right change is constant.

I’ve tended to go-with-flow, not let too many things up set me.

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

Did any of our lives turn out as we hoped or is it less than we dreamed?

Any comments sent to

telljoe@poormagazine.org or email me at

jsph_bldn@yahoo.com

Yes,my email,I'll try email you back.