I hear voices. Sometimes I record them. Enjoy.
Good Morning GF,
There was too much talking going on for me to sleep.
It went something like this:
Heart: Did you read that poem? I need a hug.
Head: Yes, pretty amazing. You can't have one.
Heart: What? You did read that poem didn't you? She was screaming out she needs a hug also.
Head: I read it. I understand how you feel. It would be impractical, sorry.
Heart: What? Don't you get what that poem was saying? I need a hug.
Head: Look, I read it. I get it, but it's not happening. We can't drive and she is busy.
Heart: Busy? What is more important than a hug? Tell her to come over.
Head: No. You know it is an hour drive, each way. It's late, it's dark. Please, just wait.
Heart: Wait? No, I need a hug. Ask her to come over.
Head: No. That would be pressuring her. You know she's been feeling pressured lately. She has a vacation coming up. Leave her alone. She'll hug you when she gets back.
Heart: Back? I can't wait that long. Beg her to come over.
Head: No. Enough. Go to sleep.
Heart: Sleep? Who can sleep? Can't we just cut the cast off and drive over?
Head: Oh, come on. What a stupid suggestion. Cut the cast off. That foot needs to heal properly. What if something happened to it. We'd be limping the rest of our lives.
Heart: Don't care. Let's go.
Head: We are not going anywhere except to bed. Go to sleep.
Heart: You awake? I need a hug.
Head: Will you keep it down, I'm trying to sleep.
Heart: You awake? I need a hug.
Head: Sleep, go to sleep.
Heart: You awake? I need a hug. Hear the frogs out there?
Head: Enough already. I'm awake. You happy?
Heart: Yes and no.
Being that I don’t look into the future very hard, I didn’t see this coming. But it is here. I am seriously dating another matchhead (light me on fire). Of course I am writing to her, for example #7 was with her. However, this is real time now. I started this blog because I was being asked to share my creations. Fine. But I have no desire to have a reality show. So, I am going to drop the “on-line dating” from my by line and just share my artistry.
Just after I tell you the story of our first meeting.
I dropped her a note in early November, it contained my latest poem. I did this because her profile was outstanding and did include some poetry. I got no response. Then being the guy (persistent, annoying, …) that I am, I dropped another note to her in early February. She replied! Our correspondence started slowly, but grew more interesting. I rarely survive a first date, so given I was really enjoying the writing, it was awhile before we arranged to actually meet. It was set for Thursday. Then I went down to Salt Lake City and broke my foot. Thursday was off. I was a sad puppy (remember, surgery, cast, no driving), which must have gotten through because, against all safety protocols, she agreed to come over to where I was recovering.
So, the day arrived. The hour was near. I went out the front walkway on my crutches. Then my OCD kicked in. Although the snow was gone it had left behind some gravel on the walkway. Wanting to make the best impression I decided that gravel had to go. I tried to kick it away; with one foot; on crutches. It didn’t go so well. I lost my balance. However, being the highly trained, black-sash, kung-fu guy that I am I managed to crash land in the grass beside the walkway. The sun was shining, I was in shorts as that’s all I could get over the cast. I figured I could lay there and get a tan. I could also contemplate my left wrist, was it just tweaked or was it broken? Now was a good time to practice the meditation I was having so much time to improve. And then I hear “Are you all right?”, a new voice with some amount of concern in it. I hadn’t even heard her car pull up, not twenty feet away. Imagine what she was thinking on this first date. Oh look, there’s a guy with a cast on one leg sprawled out asleep (no, I was meditating) on the grass. One crutch underneath, the other over there and his phone on the other side. What could go wrong here?
There are times when I think it will be impossible for me to find someone on-line.
But then something happens to make it all worthwhile.
Recently I have been corresponding with a woman who also writes. She sent me this short prose which I enjoyed.
I have a window right above my head that I leave open year round.
I can hear the night and feel the cool breeze tickle my hair and face as I sleep.
I can feel and smell when the seasons change. I love the feeling of excitement and
sense of renewal. The dust of winter is brushed away and a spring is in my step as I
wake to birds chirping and the train whistle that signals a brand new day.
Normally my first reaction would be to say, “Man, it’s winter, close the window and lower the heating bill”. But that is not what I did. Instead I rearranged her words and wrote this:
Title: The Window
Birds chirp, train whistles blow.
My day starts with an internal glow.
Feeling excited with a sense of renewal.
I couldn't receive a more precious jewel.
Breezes tickle me as I sleep.
Letting me feel the seasons creep.
Because the window, right above my head.
Makes the best place to be, my bed.
This reminds me of times in the past I have sold photographs to painters. They get to paint a scene they never would have seen. The two are not the same and neither is better. But the whole experience is better.
Here is a good story:
When I switched over to match.com from the first site I was on, I quickly ran across a familiar face. So I wrote her:
So, I started this on-line dating thing
About a year ago. Different site. Now I'm here.
One of the first pictures to grab me,
You know the kind, it just fits.
Green head band, boating, indeterminate location.
Beautiful sky, messy hair, but stunning smile.
Not forced, not staged, content.
I said to myself, wow, this on-line dating thing rocks.
You never replied.
And guess what, did she reply this time?
The picture I was referring to was still being used, but not as her main profile picture. She said I reminded her that it was her favorite also and so she switched it to be her main picture.
Then she told me that, although Scorpios can make great lovers, they don’t make great mates. And went away.
With the Drive about to start, I need to clean up these back pages.
On Match you can send a “wink”. The recipient knows that you are interested but that you lack courage to just write a note like “hi”. Why would you do that?
Anyway, in response to one I received I wrote back:
That slight closing of one eye,
was not due to a solitary fly.
Was there too much grit in the air?
Or, perhaps some reflected glare?
No, it was from no other sensations
than everyone's wish for new relations.
Oh, this is a good story.
I actually worry about interacting with other writers while on-line dating.
Why? What if they don’t like my material. Or worse, what if I don’t like theirs? My social skills still need improvement. The following is an example of what not to do. A lady shared a poem with me. Truly, I didn’t like it, but I didn’t outright say that. Instead I said her poem inspired me to write:
You can have some,
But is too much really bad for you?
Sugar and sweet is not its best form.
It does go well with low lights, music and red wine.
You can use it to celebrate,
But it comes in handy on those down days.
Brought to you, it's a big favor.
Given to others, it's a great gift.
In (not much) time she would get angry with me.
And then I wrote another ditty, purely from the content of a profile. I love doing these and I love profiles that have enough content to inspire these. Can you imagine the inspiration of being around her a lot? Well, keep imagining, she didn’t respond.
Hot air balloons launching at dawn.
Little fuzzy cygnets following the swan.
Winter sleigh ride in New York City.
A ball of twine entangling a kitty.
Fireworks exploding to gasps and glee.
Aruba's pink sands framing the sea.
Wonders come in many forms and sights.
Wonders are everywhere causing delight.
Ed note: I forgot to mention, while in Astoria I did stay at an Airbnb place. I didn’t want you to think I was totally failing on my mission.
So, it is off to the races, again. Still using my new poet super powers, which I don’t do anymore, I took relevant info out of profiles and wrote them something original. The following are all to different ladies.
Now those are twinkling eyes.
Don't they belong in the sky?
Don't they belong in a vault?
They make my heart somersault.
Did you see the full moon last night?
It was up early.
Was it excited to get to work?
Or was it as excited as I am to see you?
She was dressed up in a wispy, vermilion number.
Quite lovely really. I just had to stop and stare.
Was it really just for me?
Even though the whole world was there.
Moods and phases.
Waxing and waning.
There is a lot
That needs explaining.
Ok, I'll acknowledge you are sending me flirts. That is not the way to get my attention.
I have a very active and imaginative brain. I also have a pretty active and in shape body.
I am not so shallow as to be an ordinary skirt chaser.
I am expensive. I need you to excite me.
In exchange, I can excite you. Well, I would try.
Failing that means we aren't compatible.
I'm an easy man to please, if you have the tools.
Ok, now before you get all upset at me sending this you need to understand the situation. I was in this weird communication loop. I would send her a message and her only reply was a “wink” or “flirt”. I kept asking her to actually type or call or meet. My patience wore out. She didn’t reply.
Tonight was built upon
Every moment preceding.
Remember hard times won,
Early pain receding.
Show the world your sun,
Absolute joy exceeding.
From History#5 do we all remember an Acrostic? I enjoy the challenge. I have a feeling that I have another one laying around, but I can’t seem to find it.
The ending of the Helenic period.
Yes, I tried. I was as forward as is possible for me.
I wrote her poetry.
But no, she was steadfast in her refusal to see, properly.
So, I gave up, writing her this:
I love you. Hold on, hang with me.
I don't really know the meaning of the word, but I do know the feeling of the word.
I know the feeling I get from talking with you, making you laugh, making you poems.
Actually, I even dream about you, though I don't really remember them.
This must be love.
But it is not an all-consuming love. I'm not a Romeo.
So, I've come to realize that even though there is not enough love in this world,
there is plenty.
And the more you make, the more there is.
It is not a zero sum game.
So, you have helped me make love, which I will take into my numbers game.
As a consolation prize, and my don’t we like those, we have stayed friends and communicate quite often. She has been strongly encouraging that I will find my next one. I have not been so gracious. Hmmm, maybe that is a problem.