Marion F

As most souls are, mine, too, is transparent and intangible. So, for the purpose of my being here as well as for the sake of the human eye to see, and human mind to take hold of, I've charged myself with transforming my elusive presence into a solid whole. I know no other way to do this than to place my soul under the spell of word.

So, here we go.

Beyond the unwavering shadow of doubt, I believe I was born to find something to write on. While it took a second for me to grasp the body of the pen in my left hand, also to understand the ever distending force behind the grouped groups of alphabets the pen cascades, I finally got it. And all I can say is, "Ohhhh what a rush!" Though, I will admit, within that second it took me to gain understanding, the whole 17 thousandths of the minute, it's been one hell of a journey. I've laughed and cried. Walked but have yet to fly. Watched life through many borrowed pairs, until I learned how to use my own eyes. I then saw and seen. Seen and saw. Suffered deja vu questioning had I been here before. But still I rise.

I was born in the city of New York. The borough of The Bronx. Raised in an area known as Mott Haven in the Mott Haven housing projects. There, before I even made it out of elementary school, I'd known more people who had gotten murdered, than went to collage, I knew more "stamps" names of heroin "dope" than I knew names of positive people helping the community. I idolized a man, who, long before he even knew it, had pushed his own self destruct button. I guess that would pretty much explain why my life was, for a long time, nothing more that a slow motion riot. By the time I was 11 I was smoking weed. By the time I was 14 I was standing in dark building lobbies holding assault rifles nearly half my size expected to react of called upon. By 15 I was in prison. And save a few moths here, and a few moths there, I've yet to leave. By the time I was 19 I was setting myself up to be sentenced to 30 years in Federal Prison. I'm 34 years of age and have already given the prison system as a whole about 20 years of my life. If all fails I'll be free in about five more years. But Free forever!

This isn't about a child and his hardships. It's about a man-child who finally saw the truth of living life. Yes, I've lived a hard days, but I wouldn't trade a not one of them, for with out, I wouldn't be soul in the form of words in front of you right now. If not for my life, I would not be able to see in color. All noise would sound the same, and there would be no music. One hell of a rode? Yes. But one hell of a lesson with in it's rocky path.

My name is Marion Frampton. I am the third to bear that name after my father and his. I've come here to write about my life and the lessons I've picked up along the way. I am also a poet, so I hope you don't mind If I've give you some from time to time. There is also story telling in me. I hope you don't mind a good tale or two.

Thank you for your time and enjoy.

~M