So something very cool happened yesterday.
A friend of mine and his wife, own a flea market/thrift store
They frequently get their items from estate sales…
He called me up and asked if I would come over and take a look at something they found
When I got there he gave me this book.
He told me, it was a collection of writing from a man who had recently died. The writings are all from the world war II era.
At the estate sale, he picked it up and the family told them they could have it…when he looked through it and saw that it contained poetry..he told them they might want to hang on to it. Everyone refused…no one wanted it….that’s pretty shitty…Yes, I know I’m judging people who have just lost a loved one…it’s still pretty shitty in my opinion.
So, of course, I told him I’d be happy to look at it and see if, in his words, “it is worth anything.”
Well, that’s pretty shitty too…because it’s poetry…it’s pieces of someone’s soul so that makes it instantly fucking priceless…
So I took it home and began reading it.
Most of them are about relationships
Some of them are about the war…being IN the war..and what it was like
I only have one problem…
On the cover, written in pencil that can only be seen if you tilt it into the light is a name
On the very last page is written
Morena LaBorde’s name and address at the time and the year 1945
I’m going to transfer some of the poems here so you can see them. I honestly can not tell if this is the writing of Abel or Morena….
Some of the poems have a masculine feel and some of them are very feminine…
and I don’t mean the mood of the poem…I mean the words that are being used…
The subject, speaking in the first person, has a definite sexual role (meaning they are taking the male or female voice in this poem)
But the penmanship is the same throughout…it was all written by the same person.
And there are w2 forms in the back, stuffed in among the pages for Morena..and they have her Social Security number on them.
Now this could very well be someone like me, who is comfortable writing from a male or a female perspective and can do so with a degree of intimacy that makes it hard to tell that something in a feminine voice was not written by a woman…and vice versa…
So I’m not closed to the idea that this may all belong to Abel and perhaps he is a good writer who can speak from a female point of view.
In the next few posts, I’ll see if you guys can help me figure it out.
It really is exciting reading someone else’s words and getting a window into an era I have studied A LOT about.
(from the second to last page)
Just the two of us alone
Tho’ millions pass us by
We’ll never see or hear them
and they know the reason why
What a wonderful dream, My Darling
Why did I have to awaken
to face the grim realities
of this life that’s so forsaken?
So I close my eyes again
and dream that you are here
You hold me close and whisper
There is nothing now to fear
and I’ll just keep on dreaming
from early morn til night
With hope and faith and prayers
We’re sure to win this fight
Keep hoping and praying my dear
and our dreams will all come true
the world will be at peace again
and I’ll really belong to you