‘The sea and the chess game.
The sea and the chess game
Old Poet set-up the chess game and I opened the bottle of tequila.
The old man had few friends. People see an old man with no-place to go.
They do not sit with him, play a game of chess and know his life.
Writers are seeking of the impossible and we can end-up alone by the sea.
Old men by the sea had learned the true value of life.
He smiled at me and he told me. “My friend Johnnie, so many way to choose your death. Don’t concern yourself with death. Death will come. On a good day when life is too much of a burden. He may take you away to a better place my friend. Now allow me to pour the tequila for you. A good day to drink and play the game of chess.”
The old man poured the tequila into paper cups and he gave me one. He raised the paper cup and he told me. “I drink to you my kind friend, I drink to me and I drink to the tequila. Only solid place I have known.” We played the game of chess and drank the tequila slowly.
I asked him. Sir, my friend. What am I going to do? I don’t want love, I don’t want happiness. I joined a war to find the good death. Now old dreams are being born again because of the sea and when I hear your voice. I’m writing words and I became the street Poet. Can we change our path?
The old man laughed at me. He smiled and he told me. “Don’t worry my friend. All things fall into place. Your life, your place you called home and dreams will fall and begin again. You will learn to accept less, steal more and give less. You will become a damn human being.”
I told him. When I was young. I was going to save our world. Now, I don’t know how to save myself. A strange ending for me. I wish I could get off the rolling coaster ride.
The man smiled and poured the tequila into the paper cups. He whispered. “Like all things, you will forget or the past will become acceptable, a part of us. Just allow time to steal the bitterness from your heart. Old men learn and understand. Old age make us appreciate the new day and good friends.”
The tequila begin to erase the sad conversation and I understood the old man. The old man and me. Played the game of chess and laughed at life. The sun was falling and the old Poet told me.
“Life is to be lived. You must toss the bad days aside and not be blinded by old mistakes. All of us must fall often to know. Life can be okay. If you swim in misery, you could miss something good or wonderful.”
The old man poured the last of the tequila into the paper cups. He raised the cup to the falling sun and he told her. “Live life-like today is your last. Be kind to the people near and don’t look backward at the mistakes made. Keep learning, love often and laugh at the foolish men who don’t love the sea and the game of chess.”