It is always better to look forwards,
it is always better to look up,
it is always better to be hopeful and optimistic –
especially when the world around you
has become different and messed up…
it’s always better to focus on
the things in life that are good;
however, as everybody knows, the unexpected
is just waiting around the corner –
which is why it is not a bad idea
to be prudent and to save something
for a day and a time when you
are going to need some things
more than others…
it’s always better to have a contingency
plan in place just in case
reality seemingly is turned upside down –
like some sort of life-raft
that can help you if and when
you metaphorically, psychologically,
or perhaps physically feel like
you are about to drown…
it’s always better to look on
the bright side of life –
but, at the same time, everybody
has to realise that most things
in life are temporary, precious,
and can unfortunately be taken away;
which is why there are so many people
who plan for what might happen next,
what will happen next,
and what they may one day leave behind…
it’s always good to have something in reserve…
it’s always good to not use
all of something too quickly
and to find a way to make
something last…
it’s always good to make sure that
you don’t go too far beyond
a place that are not familiar with,
because until you know more
about something anchoring yourself to somewhere can be like having a life-line…
that is why it is good, if you can,
to always have a back up plan.
Year: 2020
My Poem “Tony Soprano”
There has never been a TV show since,
and there may never be a TV show
again,
like the hit show ‘The Sopranos’ –
and there will never be another
character like Tony Soprano:
the Mob Boss of North New Jersey,
who in my opinion was the first
anti-hero on TV who was so complex,
so intriguing, and so compelling
that nobody who watched him
could help themselves from
rooting for him, no matter what
he did and no matter what he said.
Tony Soprano woke up every morning,
he walked down his driveway
to retrieve his copy of the daily newspaper,
and then after that there was
no telling what he was going to next;
but one thing was always clear:
whatever Tony did he did for his family –
both his blood family
as well as for his crime family,
and everything that he did
was all to keep the Soprano family
and the thing of theirs
that was their life going
by any means necessary.
In my opinion, no one could have
played Tony Soprano
like James Gandolfini did –
because Tony Soprano was
someone who was smart;
Tony Soprano was someone
who internalised and wrestled
with a lot of psychological trauma
because of his mother, Livia,
and because his father Johnny Soprano
had been a gangster before Tony
was even born
there was no question that he would also
become a member of the family business;
but Tony Soprano was not like
everybody else in his family:
he suffered panic attacks –
and because he loved his family
so much he sought out the help
of a therapist, Dr. Jennifer Melfi,
in order to be a more effective
father and boss to those who followed his lead.
You don’t get to meet too many characters like Tony Soprano,
nor from episode to episode
watch someone like him
do what only someone like him
could do…
you don’t get to see acting of the
calibre that James Gandolfini had that often –
and it is clear as day that he put
every ounce of his talent into
making Tony the engaging, the profound,
and the powerhouse of a character that he was;
which is why viewers did not
want to see what they ultimately saw
at the end,
when the screen suddenly went to black –
because nobody knew that only moments before
they had just taken one last look
at one of the greatest characters
in television history:
the one and the only Tony Soprano.
My Poem “The Ten Bells”
There is a repeating and a constantly resounding phenomenon... there is a moment of time that recurs every few years... there is a place where poet and inspiration can be found, where things only feel right and never wrong... there is a moment like right now when bells ring out, when angels sing - when not even the devil could illicit any kind of fear - when and where the beauty of the poetry of life reveals once again that there is a reason for everything... there is a season that returns - like the waves of an ocean that goes out and then comes back in... there is a state of mind, body, and spirit that never dies, which resides within each of us like a deep and unending well... there is something that happens which never changes, that always rises back to the surface to greet me, over and over, like a poetic rhyme, that has the power to compel me - and it is at those moments when I know without being told that the bells of time are ringing ten.
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