South On Ventura BLVD

I came to LA in 2000. I had been trying to make it out to the Valley for years. I finally made it. YAY.....I escaped The Harbor jail.

South on Ventura BLVD

 

My late night strolls on Ventura  

different from my Pacific avenue treks.

More investigation then self-purification.

 

Since I have been to the valley, long gone are the stenches.

Long gone is the deifying silence.

Long gone is the hopelessness draped in dark three am curtains.

My human hamster cage called the harbor city is as a misty memory.

I guess I remember it as one would remember a private flogging.

It seemed horrible before it happen.

 

Painful was the act.

Afterward a faded thought yet visceral enough never wanted to be repeated.

Yoga parlors, Ethnic food places and frozen yogurt parlors have replaced

 The bars, ninety-nine cent stores and bodegas serving the best B rated Mexican cuisine.

 

My eyes have seen enough.

Pupil still stained with overcast harbor nights.

The gum ravaged sidewalks.

The fragrance of vagabond urine greets me at every alley juncture.

The characters replaced by empty charming streets.

Every once in a while I am greeted by a slowed patrol car.

I glance into the stores I cannot afford.

Peek into the bistros with meals I will not sample.

That place seems to good for the likes of me.

 

Yet I am happy.

Here I am.

I have arrived.

Still breathing.

Still alive.

The demons are at the end of the 110.

One day I will eat in that over priced Greek café

The one down the street

 

Author's Note

I really like the comment and the the conversation via comments. I think that what writing should do, create conversation. I like to hear the comment but I really like to find out where fellow writers head are-

Reviews

[Sapph]

You paint a good picture with your words, and I like how you are commentating on the location as you walk through, almost talking the reader through it, I liked it!

[Dayran]

A sense of belonging often begins with a self quality and character that we identify with. It is the basis with which we identify with all else. Someone new on the block may take a little time to get adjusted but ask yourself whether you like greek food before forking out a fortune. Sometimes the world appears so big that it appears to matter little, what we think as individuals.

[Branch Isole]

Migration often reveals both the passing of time and its result of faded versus newer elements, but all neo experiences hold a breath of freshness as juxtaposed to the staid and familiar, as this piece produces for the reader.

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the walk with you. I lived in Monterey 1992-1994. I loved the city. Very costly and but create peace to walk a boardwalk that was clean and the sea in view. I like the way you described the past and then the present. A very good ending to the poem. Thank you for the outstanding poem.
Coyote

[Greg the Bard]

I think there is more to the visceral dream tham meets the eye. I love your imagers and the way you tie them but the ending is just wrong. To short ! ! In the end you say your are happy yet your line of compairison is so dark. So how can you compair? How can you say you are happy unless you are happy to be out.

[roy mccarthy]

great write,
it captures the l.a frame of mind,
the good times and the bad times,
b rated mexican cuisine,
still happy in the midst of it all......