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Kenneth Farward Jun 2014
We all search for happiness, and there is an abundance of it in this world. Nevertheless, you must admit that we all search for too long. I try to expose the tiny pieces of happiness in everyday life. Who I am does not matter. What is important is that I do not discriminate, whether it is tall or short, disabled or superhuman, humane or animal. Happiness is an evanescent feeling deserved of all souls even if it is for just a couple of seconds.
We can all share in success and happiness; this is something most people forget they are capable of. I had forgotten as well, until I was reminded by three kind hearted souls on a wet, cold, and rainy morning in London England


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SOUL 1
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I can walk.
I linger in the trees.
If you are what you eat,
I could be a nut or a seed.
I get up every morning only to sing.
Who am I?

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SOUL 2
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I like to hold hands.
I like to yell as loud as I can.
My sweet tooth gets the best of me.
I find it hard to sit still.
“No” is my favorite word.
Who am I?

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SOUL 3
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I know wisdom comes with time.
I dream less than others.
I have achieved most of the goals in my life.
I aim to please my loved ones.
I do not fear dying of old age.
Who am I?
Kenneth Farward Jun 2014
A quick glance and that’s all it took.
Came so close to walking away,
No come back take a second look.
The beauty enhanced the light of day,
It had to be the most perfect picture.

In a frame so cunningly unique,
A frame so elegant and stylish,
Other photos could not compete.
And I could not stop smiling,
This has to be the most perfect picture.

A great green and grassy background,
A mix of different flowers and trees,
All made the art work so profound.
With each passing second I felt more at ease.
Could this be the most perfect picture?

In the fore ground all alone she stood,
I was fascinated she had my attention.
Just looking made me feel good.
Made me forget all of my tension,
This could be the most perfect picture.

Hands folded with a smile so bright,
And eyes as deep as the ocean floor,
Making me feel everything’s alright,
If this is a dream, than I want more.
This might be the most perfect picture.

Comforting, caring, and nothing less,
Truthful and brave she is a queen.
The longer I stare the more I’m impressed.
This can’t be real, this must be a dream.
Character and style, what a great mixture,
Yes she is the most perfect picture.
Kenneth Farward Dec 2013
At a young age I grasped a pen.
Held it tight in my fist to make circles on a page
As if I was enraged,
But at that age it was all in good fun.
Soon enough someone,
I can’t remember who,
taught me how to hold one.
Pencils became cool.
I could make mistakes in school,
Then erase my error forever forgetting
That I may have been a fool
when spelling my own name with a lowercase K…

A school boy error.
But that’s just what I was.
A school boy.

I remember being introduced to crayons.
I thought to myself,
ALL OF THE COLORS ?!
Every color I could not even imagine.
Colors I could not pronounce,
Colors of pride,
Colors of passion,
And when I was asked to use these colors,
at first being young,
I chose to abuse these colors.

I’d put red where it didn't belong,
And orange where you would think it was wrong.
Use pink for people and purple for pants,
Brown for the ground,

And one time,

Just this one time,
I made the grass blue,
And the clouds green.
That made me laugh,                                        
Because this world was that page,
And that page was mine.
I crossed and I scribbled all over the lines.
And when I was finish I’d go running to tell what I’d done.
My father would look and say
“Wow!”
“That’s beautiful son.”
And then my exhibit of art
Would hang neatly from the refrigerator door.
But that
     does not
          happen
                any
                    more
I grew older.
And as time passed,
the lines grew to be guidelines and laws.

Rules began to apply, I did abide.
My right to be free was strictly denied.
Each stroke of a color, each stroke of a pen!
When would my hand dance freely again?

I learned of letters from A to Z,
In love with language I won spelling bees,
Put consonants with vowels to make words,
Learned adjectives, verbs, nouns, and adverbs.

I was a proud little nerd,
And I still felt this deep discontentment.

An egg hatched and I was not yet a bird.
Where was the wind beneath my wings,
to give me  a feeling fly enough to make me sing?

I began to fall.
Fall fast into the depth of misunderstanding.
If knowledge is power,
Why were my heart and soul disbanding?

In frustration I sat in contemplation,
Pondering thoughts and memories,
of when I was most happy.
Looking through old picture books I found a folded piece of paper with the only solution to my problem.

The page had my name at the bottom.
Lines danced and trapeze from one side of the page to the other.
No sense,
No order,
Just ink.

I understood with a smile,
I hung that picture on my bedroom wall,
I opened a book and held a pen.
On lined paper I put line after line with occasional rhyme.
I used letters to laminate life.
I used words to take flight.
I used sentences to draw dreams.
I used what I knew and what I had seen.

Words are wisdom, what wisdom gains value when not shared with what we know as the world.
So when playing with ink, understand to be free,
understand your responsibility to others when they see what you have created in secrecy, and let there be no limit to what you think is outside that box.
That is how you dabble with ink.
Kenneth Farward Dec 2013
How does the competent optimist endure the positives opposite?
The prerogative to remain positive is the only option for an optimist.
Every day is a happy belated celebration of its creation.
Exposing pearly white incisors to express a bipolar condition.
A giant grin with lips spread open.
A face with a giggle in the face of sin to face demons.
The monster with in becomes, a polite ******* delight, a young baby boy eating joy, the excitement emitting the submission to a feeling of complete air under the soles of feet.
The feat of sky walking never lukewarm, a feeling newborn.
Yesterday was the best day ever you could have sworn.
However, today will be so much better the endeavor to find pleasure in everything and whatever.

— The End —