Faces In A Crowd Poem by Edmund V. Strolis

Y'know Norah I remember when computers first started to become accepted as the new reality. At the very genesis of that time I recall imaging what the computer would morph into. Our brains were never meant to have such fingertip access to commercialism and news/entertainment. We are not allowed to catch our breath. The newspaper, books and the evening news were there for the so inclined but now even the children are political products of powers that wish to groom-no citizens but voters. People are consumed as much as they consume. You know my politics? You must trust that I know which way the wind blows. You are a Victorian figure of the best kind. Like a character in your own play fearing the prison of the white picket fence and all that it entails. Such a brilliant picture of you and your escape. Not from something so much as to something. The night wind called Norah and you went. You are sober-minded yet mystical. What a world it would be if everyone were so.

Edmund I admire your independent spirit and how you challenge those around you to live outside the box.Also your questioning of the herd mentality even as a young man. I love John Lennon. From my early twenties to my early forties I lived a solitary life in a wood It's only in latter years that I came back to living in society and have had relationships though I still love solitude. I suppose I never fitted it to the norm. My biggest fear as a teenager was living behind a white picket fence which I never did. Still Living on the periphery of society in a very remote place. Don't even have a TV. I understand your desire for time to contemplate life. You are a kindred spirit Edmund and there is magic in your words.

Hello Norah Tunney. Yes indeed the deep need to feel connected can be a wonderful thing or reveal weakness. Joining a gang, group-think, social network obsessing, following fads, keeping up with the cool people, selfies and bodies bruised by tattoos. As a young man I wrote and thought deeply about conformity and lemming-like herding of thinking. I have met many wonderful people and demand independent thinking from my friends. That being said I am always searching for someone electric a John Lennon independence, not an ego or bluster, not a predictable hippie in a van eating kale. Wonderful people but there is something genuine lacking. Where is the child-like fall on your knees curiosity when a flower or weed is spied in the cracks of the pavement? Do I exaggerate? Far from it. Not being this way does not make anyone bad of course but I think of the alien landing upon earth that has never seen green grass, billowing clouds and blue skies and stands and looks in awe upon them. Why do we need to reanimate a dinosaur or find the Loch Ness monster in order to be intrigued when zebras, elephants and caterpillars abound? Become that alien. Norah the older I get the more fascinated I become and I so look forward to that day when the clock and obligation to making a living do not pull at my attentions. I look for people that truly marvel at everything. I have never met anyone that shares my enthusiasm but my eyes still scan the faces and I interrogate each candidate I meet.