stomp

"doritos?"

He looked up. She had two packages of chips, hummus, two beers, a... bunch of grapes?... and a roll of paper towels precariously balanced in her arms. He knew the Ranch Doritos needed rescuing from her vice-like choke hold but . . .

"No, thank you."

she looked stunned, and rightfully so. the stairs, an easy climb for his long legs, always seemed to be challenge to her shortness. it didn't help that she had this natural stomping walk that wreaked havoc on an incline. still, if she didn't stomp, he wouldn't be able to hear her, and her presence still made him a little nervous, and... what? oh, yeah. back to the doritos.

"ok." 

she slowly turned around, balancing on the first step. he pictured his top-heavy beauty's roller coaster ways, and knew he had to....

"Stop!  Wait wait wait!"

she turned around, brightly smiling, hopeful.

"You can leave the Doritos."

"oh."

she trampled over, and dropped both doritos, one of the grapes, and the paper towels.  

"canistay?"

"No, really, I have to finish this. It's almost a high school essay of madness over here."

"i could be real quiet. i won't even touch you!"

he considered the option. she'd lie down on the other side of the bed. she'd *crinkle-crinkle* open the chips. she'd make each dorito last seventeen bites "to savor it." she'd look for the paper towels, then audibly make that squeaky "oh!" sound that she does when she realized they were on his side of the bed. there'd be a tiptoe-stomp tiptoe-stomp tiptoe-stomp as she treaded all the way around the bed. she'd lean down, and sneaaaaaaaak the paper towel roll from in between his legs, then hopping on one foot all the way back to the other side of the bed, gently snickering like that one dog on the hanna-barbera cartoons. (snickerdootle? snickley?) all while tossing that mad mess of hair from side to side, and bouncing..... herself.

then, while she's reading, she'll move from one side. turn to the other side. lie on her belly. take a pillow. take another pillow. snort a grape. throw a grape and catch it in her....nose.

"No. I really have to get this finished." 

she nodded shortly. she put a beer down on his nightstand, grabbed the paper towels and a doritos bag, and walked quietly out of the room.

each step laid his heart out flat.

he went back to his work, silently convincing himself he made the right choice. really, it had been a nice, quiet, productive afternoon until she had come in. it was sure to continue now that she was gone.

but, with each push of "enter"... with each tap on the space bar.... with each period at the end of the sentence, he felt a life put on pause until she came back.

correction, until she came stomping back.

because she stomped.

(stomp)

fasten the seat belts

the pureness 

that we had

with the typewrittened 

word

got cluttered 

with the sounds 

of our frustrations

the back-and-forth

that we had

in replies and memes

got dismissed 

in the intent

to be heard 

when love

turns to anger

you learn 

not to hope

when whispers

turn to yells

you learn

not to listen

when no

is negated

and yes

is hated

you demonstrate

fear and sadness

inside

when love's 

a bumpy ride

you want to get off

there is no thought

but leave

and the silence 

you gain

remind you of

the pain

but it resolves

the feeling to

hide

(inside)

the bad

"You always remember the bad."

the bad 

shakes me 

to the core

reminding me of 

what i went through 

before

i marvel at you 

remembering everything

the good 

the bad

the weather

the clouds

all the minutia 

that i 

as the poet

am supposed to 

marvel in

instead i sketch in

the gray

and paint on 

the black

attacking any good

day with my stormy

self

has the past 

tainted my vision

forever?

will the pollyanna

in me

be shortlived?

what goes on 

in my heart

anyway?

(grey)

there

if you hang out in

the deep of night

look to the light

i might be there

hidden

come out

come out and 

let me see you

no, i have to work

in the morning

come over

come over and

we'll talk

surely

you've seen enough

of me 

on this trip

but you don't understand

i only have 

so many times

to see you

(spoken behind eyes 

that have seen the

death of relatives of

close friends)

you know i'd say

yes

if i weren't so tired

(spoken behind a brain

that pulls me down

in the blackness of 

what i've created)

some call

to connect

some deflect

to protect

all love, but in different ways

if only 

each other 

could see the pain

behind the eyes

behind the brain

(no)

side trip

maybe if i write it down then

i'll figure it all out

it didn't work

maybe if i talk it out then things

will fall into place

they didn't

explanations turned into inconsistencies

filled with maybe i meant this and

perhaps it was a mystery

oh forget all that it wasn't me

it's your fault

this pathway should not be 

strange

my deranged self has made many

a side trip

no wonder it's hard for me to drive

in a straight direction

i'm afraid if what's there

who cares

it'll still be all my fault

(caught)

school of learning

she moved

from person to person

a smile hidden 

on her face

there were some 

that were touchstones

"how's it going? 

did you get coffee?"

there were some

that got quick questions 

as if they were a specific

google person

who she could ask 

in an instant

saving an email

and there were two 

that she had specific gifts

for

one, a royal colored wallet

to give to the richly talented

role model

and a picture of royalty

for the one she knew to be

in mourning still for the queen

of nearly everything

enriched by the observations

of others

made her realize just where 

she was

was the place she needed to be

making it ever more difficult

to think of leaving

and the troubles that laid ahead

(dread)

booked

fifteen tabs open

and all about 

ricardo montalban

or three tabs open

all about ponca nation

or two tabs open

hunting for memes

work is a necessary evil 

for some

and a lifeline for others

i don't think i could find

any purpose in another job

i don't think i could help

any person as well as i do here

i don't have to think about

how i'm dying inside

because the more broken

i get

the more i want to help

others

and i couldn't do that

at the home of the whopper

not as well as i do

at the home of endless books

i don't want to leave

(home)

pay less

doesn't it feel good 

to pay less

doesn't it pay more

to feel less

doesn't the cold 

of the morning

stir up the longing

while still reminding you

that you're dead?

ah, impenetrable dread

that turns the orb

that keeps you grounded

but barely above ground

(sound)

flashlights

they lock up

the flashlights

because they don't want

you to be bright

whatever comes to light

will be in a backhand email

a stalled highway

and what can't be said

will be felt in the silences

of the hall

nothing more

nothing less

(mess)

two doctors

one

everything's done

by the nurse, you see

whatever you look at

is scanned by her

and He comes in, and read

the summations

give no expectations

and ask to see you 

in half year

no fear in his voice

all ordinary

but the objects that

dance in your eyes

are a concern

will they return?

come back and find out!

(the worst t.v. series

to ever be a part of)

two

Stand up.

Not that way

Push back

Not that way.

Tell me what 

you do in life.

Nothing? 

I find that hard to believe.

 

Where do you work?

Oh, now I see.

What started this off?

Two pails of sand?

Why did you carry them?

I don't understand

You are old, and you think

that you are young.

I see.

(not asking, just telling

it's nothing to me

i've become used to

not being understood

humour is my game

deflection is all good)

Do these exercises.

Here is an app.

Let's meet every week

and see where you're at.

(when did this turn into

a fable by dr seuss?

this doctor is female

and not ever on the loose)

Wait, why are you still hurting?

There's a pail at the house

that you have to carry water in

from kitchen to bathroom?

(the tale of two pails)

I..i..is it a full pail of water?

H..h..how often do you have 

to do this?

(no questions on why, 

no questions on what,

which was merciful.)

Well, try to make more trips

with less water in pail.

Or get someone else to

carry them for you.

Now, here's how to

rest your head as you lay

in the night using rolled

up towel and soft pillow.

This will help you sleep.

This will help with the

persistent headaches.

This will he....oh, the insomnia

and the headaches were before

the pails? 

I see.

Well, do the exercises

and look at the app.

We'll work with what we have

and make your neck better.

I must ask, however,

I know you're masked, 

but is that your worried face

or are you deep in thought?

(or am i crying?

or is it residual "scanxiety"

from battles from long ago?)

Oh, just listening. I see.

See you soon.

 

what else is there to say?

what else is there to say?

what more is there

to be

just the thought of

useless syllables

of round and round

compromises

wearies me to the bone

can being alone be better

than whatever is to come?

what more can be done?

(blank)

technology

works for you

or against you

it clarifies the need

for lessons

it prompts you 

to grow 

in some way

it separates 

your soul 

from your spirit

it traps you

until you are just

a voice

that suitably gets

tucked away 

night after night

far away from sense

and reality

technology

can free you

but only as far

as you try

otherwise,

you can kiss 

your sanity goodbye

(lie)

a mission

No, ma'am

I can't come in

at eight a.m. 

in the morning.

You see

I have a mission 

every morning.

I wake up before dawn

put soft music on

crack egg after egg

side them with toasted bread

and I bring my wife

breakfast in bed 

every morning.

I remember, 

when she was able,

she lived to serve,

setting each table,

sending me off 

with warmth and cinnamon

rivaling the sun

So you see, ma'am.

I'm not available to come

from 7 a.m. til at least

noonday sun.

My mission makes it

impossible.

(dawn)

vowed

you'll see for me

and i'll listen to you

as we vowed 

as we vowed

you'll read the news

on slanted paper

i'll listen close

as you clarify

as we vowed

as we vowed

i can't listen

with my mask on

you can't see

beyond your reality

both of us believing

with the mind of a child

as we vowed

as we vowed

even though

they don't care now

(trace)

when

when they don't know

why they said what they said

when they don't tell

how they really feel

when they don't ask

if you made it there

when they don't care

to show their face

when they think that

all life is a blog

when the songs in their heart

stills forevermore

when nothing has a point

not even the poetic

when all is hectic

and connections are strained

when all was covered

just waiting to change

when all was discovered

and nothing was changed

blur

you can't make sense

of what you never

understood

you thought you could

finesse

acquiesce

kowtow

appease

make a square peg

fit into a round hole

instead you're hollow

to the core

what is real anymore?

not you, for sure

(blur)

a promise to myself

i will ask no more

forever

i will lean no more

forever

i will live no more 

forever

every edit will be

mine

every decision will be

mine

every thought will be 

mine

even the unspoken

i won't explain myself

anymore

because what was all

the explaining for

when nothing 

was heard or understood

(good) 

again to the darkness

at first

it was you and me

flowing freely 

down the fareway

you leading

at a graceful distance

and i

so happy to be 

by your side

then suddenly

the guiding way

turned to starkness

so close to the darkness

letting me go

in the middle

of my doom

on and on i'll sail

without connection

the inflection was

always felt

but was ignored

and now my storm

begins

on my own again

but not for long

one breath more

and i'm done

(gone)

warnings

they will warn you

with overreaching words

unspoken silences

and storms that happen 

allofasudden

you can choose to heed

these warnings

with the strength of poetry

your mellow voice

and the sun that's always 

right in your pocket

ready to shine 

for someone else

but never you

(true)

 

ago

and she showed him a picture

from way back when

of a couple in a canoe

floating on innocent promises

and he mulled over 

the image

for only a moment

then typed back

"We were younger then" 

and even though this man

of business and style

was surrounded by stress

and a million miles

his quick witted wonder

of a sentence of four words

broke through the turnpike

and up several hills

and blushed a cheek 

of a heart unawares

no stares could see 

what effect he gave

(thank goodness for covid

secret love is saved)

bliss

hearts

sometimes

when we're talking 

about nothing

it's like our hearts float

out of our bodies

and touch for a moment

floating in endless blue

over the middle of 

our parting

joining us again

in mid night

(one)

blank page

blank page from 

several yesterdays 

ago

wrinkled in worry

corner covered 

with the shadow

of dirt

tiny speck of a tear 

in the middle

i almost want 

to tear this testament

out of the notebook

out of sight 

out of mind

but it tells 

its own story

in its blankness

a protective cover

for the babblings

on the other pages

ages will happen

and i'll long forget

the bluest days

but this page stays 

in tribute

steadfast in 

silent emotion

(stay)

it is known

the incidental mumbles

that you think i don't hear

hurt more than endearments

that you whisper so clear

at sea

i talk pages and pages 

about me

non sequiturs as far as the eye can see

babbling and babbling like the waves

in the sea

and you just look at me

what a specimen i must be to you

what an odd bird i must sound like to you

broken songs that either float on transient planes

or mimicked tones that echo 1970's strains

how many times can you hear "the love boat"

over and over again

before you jump ship?

a thin wisp of intelligence

in a titanic piece 

of inconsistency

at sea against the rest of the world

(wave)

 

even when

and even when

you snore in my ear

wholeheartedly

myself throbs for

your being

internally

and even when 

you make fun

of my "book"

give me that

one look

eat all the chips

like a crook

i can't tear myself away

you're the day i've been waiting for

(dawn)