SOUNDTRACK FOR THE STRANGE LAND

The beaches of the Pacific Ocean
Around Encintas
Are grey and unpromising
At 7:00
This late May morning.

I allow then to wash me awake,
Soak my feet with salt water and sand
And get myself a sense of true liberation
That I haven't felt in ages.

Home turf is not missed at this very moment.
No.
I don't miss one thing about it:
My workplace,
The politics,
The family,
Would-have-beens,
Should have-beens…

Nothing.

The tranquility of the seas
Only confirm my current love for the Bossa Nova.

Jobim was right:

If this earth only ran with this soundtrack,
Then this strange land
Would be a bearable and more challenging place.

If we all sang these songs of mystery and natural beauty,
"Matita Pere" by Tom (Jobim),
"Reza" by Edu (Lobo)
or
"Viva Sohando" sung by Joao (Gilberto),
This place would be an unspoiled land
Adorned by waters
Blessed by mystiques from other lands.

We wouldn't have to worry about getting lost,
Nor cutting our feet
When we walk the sands,
Nor meeting petty deadlines
Or paying dues and debts
That take away our youthful spirit.

The only thing to worry about,
Is getting our hearts broken
And learning to mend them
With help from the sprays of the sea
And the murmurs of kindred songs.

© David S Minjares

Commentary:

This piece was written while listening to Antonio Carlos (Tom) Jobim's classic 1972 album known as "Jobim (a.k.a. Matita Pere)" The trip in question was a getaway trip to San Diego County, with one day spent in Encinitas, the other in Kensington. The morning that this poem is based upon was a very transitional morning. During the previous months, I became a recluse. Not spending money, tending to my online (eBay) auctions, going to work early in the morning and just locking myself away from the outside world. I was trying to budget very tightly what with a web design class upcoming (which would be cancelled right at the beginning of June). I also decided to take an indefinite break from acting, since things were at an all-time low with L.A. theatre. The trip to the beach and the sea washing over my feet certified the death knoll of my life as a recluse. There would be more to follow, including two very-near sexual encounters, that would more than prove my chemistry was alive and well. (I know when I returned from the trip, I played nothing but the above album repeatedly. Very emotional.) I like myself too much to want to slip into some reclusive madness at an early age…never again. I want to dance, sing, love, share and do other things that stir my soul. And, ultimately, do those things with that special kindred woman. Someday.