Long Small talk Poems
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I see him stumbling around looking for something to hold on to but there was nothing there except the open thin air and a bunch of bureaucrats wearing thin frocks walking around on wet grass with fake greetings and a forced smile that caught us by surprise.
Bob has been in the news and this has left everyone confused he is running for office again, midths the barrage of criticism running down his spine weakening his legs and making him look like the walking dead. At first, he looks like a robot coming out of a hut, and then it appears like a man in despair. There was no one around to cover him except for gravity and his own sanity.
Bob is fun to be around but this time his attitude makes me frown, he does some weird things, like walking with his nose pointed in the air and use his finger to show you the clock.
Sometimes he is agitated and his temper cuts deep causing everyone to proceed with caution while he rolls the dice and shuffles the cards. He is a nice person to be around but the mood swings will drag you down; yesterday I invited him for tea, we had a small talk and it left my aunt weeping in the dark, what is really going on with Bob?
Bob is a very good man but sometimes he looks very sad; he has a very tight schedule and attends more than ten meeting in a given day, heaven knows how he stands up while going through the gate.
He knows his work quite well and he can talk up a storm from hell and still remain true. I watched him come and go and how he presents himself while he rides the big ship, and the ceremony he attended with the mercenaries hiding in the bushes and the guard of honor marching every hour to pay their respect to Bob.
He wasn’t quite in it, he was always looking for something to hold on to but the air propels him along and John, his closest friend, stood next to him and pushes him on.
I could sense a silent annoyance rising up in john’s emotions, as he reached for support while climbing the steps. He attempts to hold john several times from his back but John shrugs and show him the way with a polite gesture.
They and had a cup of tea towards the end, and spend some time feeling out each other. What was said, I really don’t know but the cluster bombs exploded and close that chapter. The tennis match was a blessing in disguise, and it is an indication of how the story will end, I love happy endings.
It all started as fun like it usually does
Back when she was a great girl who'd always been beautifully loved
Way back before she'd been brutally touched
She goes out weekly and has a few drink like most teens
She doesn't let boys get close, only in their dreams
She goes to university to try and make her future career better
One day she gives in to peer pressure
She's scared when alone, but they don't feel Fear together
Her friends pressure her into popping pills
Now the world is not as real
She's feels high but low at the same time
Trying to think, but is struggling with her mind
She leaves the bar with a strange guy, who spoke kind words
There's no harm in a little flirt
Is what her friends say, but that night he gets her out of her skirt
Takes her home, but never calls back
Her whole confidence, begins to fall flat
Now she's doing lines of cocaine almost daily
Her and her friends haven't spoke lately
She's going off the rails, her friends should be keeping her on track
This is when her whole world starts to turn black
She used to say she'd only give a chance to a man who treats her
But her new man, disrespects and beats her
She knows her time is coming, she doesn't have long left
She keeps taking the wrong steps
Her dreams are broken and faith's lost
Her teeth are rotting and she's had a severe weight loss
We all know how enjoyable sex is
But she doesn't enjoy it, she's sleeping around for her next fix
As long as she gets the drugs she doesn't care about being respected
She's happy to continue destroying the beauty she was blessed with
There's places she doesn't want to visit on her next trip
She's not into small talk or sharing the facts
She's just doing what she can, for her next heroin bag
Her man beats her worse than before, because he finds out she has aids
No new beginning
No happy ending
No chance of winning
She's almost at the end of the chapter on her page
She's never been suicidal
But she's been caught in a vicious cycle
She grabs the knife and cuts until she bleeds
Tears in her eyes, right before her heart no longer beats
I wrote this based off the world we live in, so this girl doesn't exist
But there are plenty of true stories just like this
I wish this had a happy ending, because this girl was meant to set the world alight
But it's a sad story of how drugs ruined a girls life
I enter the room breathlessly,
Somehow anticipating that tonight will change everything.
I sit quietly among strangers lost in their own worlds.
Cell phones buzzing, coffee steaming.
We all glance at watches,
Even some that aren't wearing any.
The air is electric as everyone is keenly aware
That tonight has the power to change the world.
I know that my love has not arrived yet,
Although I have never met or talked to him before.
A tired looking woman beckons me from the back room
And robotically I answer her call.
And in another room full of people and chaos,
I immediately see HIM.
He is perfect, though not at all what I expected.
Our eyes lock briefly, I smile and wave.
I'm wishing I had a mirror and had taken the time to "freshen up."
Other women in the room are as obsessed with him as I am.
I grab the barrette from my hair,
And like every ingenue I've ever seen on TV, I shake loose my curls coquettishly.
I think I have caught his eye, but suddenly his entourage rushes him from the room.
My heart slows a bit and I feel the color draining from my face.
Someone is holding my arm, sensing my weakness.
"He'll be back in a minute, why don't you sit down?"
I sit and for the first time, I notice HER.
Glowing, happy, giggling . . . the center of everyone's attention.
And the game just became REAL!
For it is she who stole my last love.
We make small talk, pretending no animosity exists.
Until a door opens, and HE is back.
New clothes, blue to match his eyes,
And I can't keep a little gasp from escaping my lips.
Of course, he flies right into the arms of my nemesis.
I move in, touching his arm, briefly holding his hand.
Even brazenly stroking his dark curls when SHE looks away.
And I see him respond -- glances in my direction, guarded smiles.
I am lost in a world where only he and I exist.
The room and everyone in it disappears and the two of us are floating away.
Without warning, I realize she must have seen our exchange.
And the room and everyone in it comes back into focus.
I look at my nemesis. She looks back at me.
"Would you like to hold him?" she says, seemingly without guile.
I cannot help myself. "YES!" I say, a little too quickly and loudly.
Unselfishly, my daughter-in-law gives him up. At last, my newborn grandson and I can start our love story.
7/14/2015
Watermarks of the time and tide! (First part to abide by the word count)
---
I was born as an innocent looking baby, as everyone always is!
Just a tiny cuddly body with a pure soul, with not much of wiz!
Then as a faltering toddler I started my slow and waddling walk!
With some more effort at finding words, I could get into small talk!
The real excitement began as I turned into an ever restless child!
My curiosity became insatiable and my imagination grew so wild!
I felt everything was possible to achieve, just as I wanted to do!
They would know I could work great wonders as soon as I grew!
I questioned everything they told and challenged the folks around!
To me all could have been discovered, but only if they had found!
When turbulent teens dawned on me, I'd a burst of immense vigor!
My mind got as sharp as a saber and I demanded proofs with rigor!
When I was told what's wise to do I asked to convince me why it's so!
Why should I walk all my life in a set rut, without moving too and fro?
After all anyone who had discovered anything had gone a new way!
Some of that was planned ahead, the rest of it was uncharted sway!
I had raging and unruly emotions of love, dislike, anger, and devotion!
I knew I'm the best and said so, though not intending self promotion!
I learnt so much more and faster than I ever could have done before!
I believed I am already a professor, not a freshman or a sophomore!
With my energy exceeding my mass, my desires exceeding my time!
I insisted everything I said or did had a coherent reason and rhyme!
Becoming an adult tampered me down, cooling off my red-hot zeal!
I realized life was a tough test for which like raw iron I must anneal!
With patience reigning in my outbursts and my wisdom getting ripe!
I realized my limitations and heard others' opinions without a gripe!
I accepted that whatever I had learned told me so little about world!
The boundaries of the unknown were boundless all said and heard!
I fell in love to last forever with my life partner and my true soulmate!
Not quite like the attractions before that had hovered by mental state!
The essence of life was revealed to me as giving more than receiving!
Standing by my loving family and dear friends, without ever deceiving!
I was given the challenge
Well in truth it was a bet
And the bet was to get a date
With Prudence the librarian
Whose coldness was legend
It would be a tall order
But I picked up the gauntlet
And headed to the library
I walked up to the desk
And there she stood
She was short in stature
But imposing nonetheless
Her countenance was severe
Thick chestnut hair
Pulled back off severely off her face
Her make up would best be described
As minimalist
And she peered at me
Over thick framed spectacles
She wore a chunky beige sweater
Two sizes too big which hid her shape
And a dark pleated skirt, knee length
Over thick black wool tights
And the not unattractive legs
Terminated into sensible shoes
I tried small talk
But she was not receptive
Her demeanor was positively frosty
Every enquiry she batted back to me in the negative
But despite everything
There was something about her that I liked
Something intangible
curiously she was not my type
in any way, but still there was something
So I decided to persevere
But because I wanted to
Not because I had to
So firstly I paid off on the bet
I wasn’t doing it for a stupid bet
But because of that intangible something
An itch I couldn’t scratch kind of thing
Realizing small talk would get me nowhere
I thought I would try a different tack
And converse with her on her own terms
I had to engage her intellect
So each day I would go to the library
And ask her to recommend a book
Which we could then discuss each day
And each day she thawed a little
Then I posed her questions,
History, Geography, the arts
I found her to be both knowledgeable and interesting
And I found that I was becoming interested
In the subjects we were discussing
And looked forward to our time together
As each day she thawed a little more
I wanted to have more
Than just the few precious hours at the library
But I didn’t want to undo what I had achieved
Upset the status quo
And refrigerate her again
Then at the end of one particular day
Prudence asked me
“Would you like to go for a coffee?”
I was speechless but nodded in the affirmative
Later she told me
She fell for me because I engaged her mind
And valued her for what was between her ears
And not what was between her legs
Or inside her sweater
Form:
Ceramic smiles,
Stupid ceramic smiles,
Filling stupid ceramic bathroom walls.
Tiles lined up like teeth.
Lemonade words spit in lime colored ways,
Across an ocean of tiles and walls.
And sometimes the bathroom walls sing melodies.
When the ceramic knife is too dull to make the cut.
When the lighter runs out of fuel.
Sometimes,
Your hair gets knotted,
Tied together,
Anchoring you like a rowdy boat
Strung closely to the dock.
Keeps the boat from growing legs, you know?
Keeps the boat from walking away,
Keeps your head in the right place.
Maybe wrong times,
But nobody ever had to know about that.
Stupid plastic smiles
And too many plastic 'I love yous' to care about the meaning of the words anymore.
It stops being about the blood,
Starts wondering what the hell is going on
It starts being about the reminder of the blood.
What it's for.
Who cares if you bleed
Just another maxed out credit card,
Flushed down the toilet.
Just another fifty dollar bill stuffed into another bra.
"Dance some more, baby!"
"Do that thing with your hips, baby!"
"Smile some more, baby!"
"Earn your keep, you disgrace!"
Neverending 'care' from people that don't,
Neverending fake from people who are.
"What, can't keep your dog on a leash tight enough?"
It's insulting to think more of yourself, than a dog.
A leash,
Just another name for a noose,
If you tilt your head and choke a little.
They say that better days are coming
Preach it like rain.
Spit lemonade words full of watermelon seeds,
Bursting with lies.
Lie after lie
No lie is white,
But the piece I carry comes with an ivory grip.
Lost too many times on the side of busy street.
You would have thought broad daylight would have been a safe enough space.
Not perfect,
But at least not hidden.
Too tight pants
Yell some too tight vocabulary.
Vomit up something that sounds like ceramic and blood,
Maybe some people shouldn't eat glass for breakfast.
Ceramic smiles and plastic cheeks
And I still can't get away from my own head long enough for the fireball and THC to numb the thoughts.
Maybe sometimes, it's call 'small talk,'
Because those with big mouths don't want you to see
That they will swallow you up and spit you back out.
Like lemonade words
And bloody back molars.
Just what is it you're looking for
in the month of May
when blue and green merge as lovers
it's as good a start as any
much like the day you said I do
if you don't know
keep wishing you had a mother
to teach you proper things
just what is it you're looking for
certainly can't be that difficult
to take a moment and cogitate
who do you think would miss the morning scene
afternoon's still breath and kiss you as if you're real
the tears, oh the tears flow
'cause you don't know, but look around
it's always been so
for those who live with wonder
maybe Darwin knows
why you turned out just so
who can be bothered with such small talk .
shoulder the burden until you know
who asked you to solve the problem
that plagued us all since the rib was taken
but apparently no wiser since blue married green
that special day in May
I was alone
Travelling Interstate 80
Following the route of the early Western pioneers
2900 miles across the midsection of America
Stretching from the East Coast to California
In Utah home to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
The land becomes flat and straight
Large signs on the edge of the road
Warn drivers about fatigue and drowsiness
Tired and hungry
I drove on
Watching shadows move in the sunlight
Day turning into night
On an empty highway
Finally I stopped at a place off the road.
An old woman showed me around
Small talk
On a warm evening
Life is a delusion she said
Young man
There are terrible people out there
You ought to be careful
Cause you’re young you know.
The room was small
Fan cutting through the humid air
Telephone ringing in an empty room
Lights flickered
In the shadows
She pointed to a spot
Where an old man died
We kept the shabby couch she said
Too expensive to throw out
Out Here
We’re as practical
And frugal as the Mormons
So we kept it.
No sense in thinking about it any more
She whispered
The more you think
The more mixed up you get
Besides it’s wide
A bed for two and very comfortable.
I tried paying for the room
She looked in my face
Searching for something
Then down at the crumpled bills in my hand
Wetting her fingers she counted the money
I don’t know if you kids have everything
Or you have nothing
Time and experience will tell
I guess
Then she handed some of the money back to me
I don’t need that much
Beside it’s only money Son
That’s all it is
Life is short
You hold on to it
You’ll need it later
I looked puzzled
She smiled
We all have our secrets.
I was up early next morning
When the old woman appeared
I figured you’d be leaving soon she said
Heading West?
Yes I replied
Going to look for family out there?
No just myself
Afraid?
A little
Lightly touching my arm she said
Don’t be afraid. You’re young. There’s always been magic in a young heart
The roads are clear this time of morning.
Ride straight and you’ll do fine.
The engine revved up
I was moving at 60, then 70, then 80
Windows wide open
Wind pouring in
Not another car on the road
I was alive
I was free
The morning belonged to me.
Two Aloha-shirted Hawaiians
of generous girth were strumming
their ukuleles
on a small stage in front of the hotel’s poolside bar
in the late afternoon,
rehearsing for the night’s performance.
It must have been the low season,
as both bar and pool were deserted.
and the singer, unburdened
by a leis-laden audience’s
Mai Tai-soaked expectations,
was going through a mele
as if trying it on for size,
his voice loose-limbed with an easy grace.
Wrapped in the ukuleles' lolling strains,
his falsetto notes tumbled out into an
uncongested airspace,
where no ceiling formed by small talk, disjointed laughter
or tinkling glasses impeded their progress,
so they unfurled their wings,
lifted themselves into the hibiscus-brushed breeze,
and climbed,
hopscotching and frolicking on their ascent,
skipping from Tiki torch to treetop to balcony.
Some straggled, loitered on windowsills.
Some, afraid of heights, fluttered back down
to rest on top of beach umbrellas
next to shadows of palm fronds.
Still others hang-glided out over the sand
and the lapis water,
lured by the marigold light.
So that, when they alighted on my
hotel room balcony ten floors above,
they were fragments,
excerpted by the intervening air
from the upflowing cascade into
a broken yet voluptuous murmur,
a soft, lilting South Seas benediction
floating around my head.
I’d just sat down in the balcony chair, alone,
my wife being inside the room busying herself
with the correct placement of luggage
after we’d checked in.
And so it was that I found myself looking out
at the beginnings of a sky-painting Maui sunset
accompanied by air that quietly sang.
Maybe it was my senses unwinding
after the bustle of the journey,
or maybe it was simply that I was caught unawares,
but the feeling of contentment,
the almost Zen-like awareness of the here and now,
that overcame me at that moment was something
no convergence of sights and sounds
has been able to reproduce in the 20 years since.
It was, to be sure, an experience I’d paid more than
a negligible amount of money for.
The irony is that it was the first time
I truly understood the simplicity of happiness.
Mahalo.
While on my way to Church one Sunday morning
Along the road I saw a car broke down
I stopped to see if I could help the driver
And he said I sure could use a ride to town
While riding into town just making small talk
He saw my Bible laying on the seat
He said that's one book there I don't believe in
Then he said these frightening words to me
I really don't believe in God or Heaven
And I don't think there really is a Hell
Then I said you need to listen to this story
This old country boys about to tell
Every time you reach into your pocket
And you pull out a bill to pay the man
You need to read what's printed on that dollar
Cause the words In God we Trust are in your hand
Then I reached downed on the seat and got my Bible
And I held it out and put it in his hand
I said my Mother gave this book to me some time ago
Then she said son, someday give to a friend
Then we rode off into town and not a single word was said
I dropped him off, I shook his hand, he just nodded his head
Then I went on to Church and as I heard those Church bells sound
I knew someday, somehow, someway this lost soul would be found
Then the days turned into weeks and the months turned into years
And his path and mine would never cross again
Then just the other evening, a knock came at my door
There a young man stood with a Bible in his hand
He said, sir you don't know me
But you once knew my Dad
And this Bible I am holding
Is the one that you once had
He said about twenty years age
His car broke down
And you picked him up along the road
And drove him into town
He said you held this Bible out
And put it in his hand
He said you said some words to him
He said you called him friend
This morning, I've lost track of time
I guess about six or seven
My father looked at me and smiled
Then the Lord took him to heaven
But the other day, he said son
The day that my life ends
Take this book home where it belongs
And give to my friend
When he handed me the Bible
Not a single word he'd say
I shook his hand, he smiled at me
Then he turned and walked away
When I opened up the Bible
It was then I'd understand
Cause he had written on the cover
In God we Trust is in our hands
Form: