Entertainment#17

A house gift for friends that put up with me from time to time:

Title: Friendship House
Thank you friend for coming by.
We will never ask you why.
Please don’t even try to hide.
Our door is always open wide.

Think you get the better deal?
Nope, not even how we feel.
We feel quite the best
Providing you a place of rest.

So come, please, let’s celebrate.
As we set out another plate.
Always time we like to spend.
This house is open to you, our friend.

I understand that giving unsolicited advice is not chic. However, what do you do when you have advice for someone and you know it is for their good? I wrote:

How can I tell you a story you don't want to hear?
Or maybe you just aren't properly prepared.
What good would it have done to invent a parachute
Before the plane; before the ability to soar.

It is frustrating to believe in an answer to a
Problem you aren't perceiving.
Do I talk louder or longer?
Do I become your parents?

No, No, No.  No good.
Replacing one problem with another is not progress.
Besides, I could be wrong.  I'm not, but I could be.
And it would be a hollow victory to win the battle
And lose the war.

So, carry on.  I know your life is good.
I know it can be better.
I won't intrude.  I'll be a perfect gentleman.
I'll be tortured.

O, come on, ask.  Please, ask.

I’ll end with some reflection I had one morning while laying in bed.

I feel death is imminent
even though no doctor agrees.
Certainly, you know, no one avoids this fate.
Am I being warned to get my affairs in order?
Am I being warned that my life is headed in the wrong direction?
Am I already dead?
Certainly, I do not understand the world anymore.
And the world is not demanding anything of me.
Or I've gone deaf and blind.
Is this when you are supposed to just let go?
Is this when you are supposed to latch on and get fanatical?
It is cloudy outside.
But it is winter.
Spring will be here soon.
Will I?

 

philosophyon-line dating#7

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.

Entertainment#16

I found that other acrostic poem. Writing something personal fits me better now than buying birthday gifts:

Happy Birthday

Simmering delicacies made just so.
Iridescent beetle polish for your toes.
Mountains drenched in crisp clean air.
Open hearts, ready to share.
Nuts, chocolate, cookies too.
Each of these I wish for you.

And then there is Yoga. I hear it mentioned a lot. So I wrote for someone:

Title: A Salute to my Yoga Instructor
Breathe deep, exhale slow.
Get limber, touch your toes.
Twist into position, meditate.
Others looking in, think this is sedate.

You are old enough to be my daughter.
With your guidance I will not falter.
Some of your positions leave us to stare.
I really don’t think we’ll be going there.

Leaving your place, the day is shining.
As your instruction is a silver lining.

Someone was telling me of their vacation. Her and a few of her lady friends took their horses over to the Oregon coast. So I wrote:

The churning of waves
Salt in the water
The blowing of mist
Salt in the air
The grinding of sand
Salt on the beach
To be kissed
Salt everywhere
 
The churning of waves
Hoofs in the water
The blowing of mist
Hoofs in the air
The grinding of sand
Hoofs on the beach
To be blessed
Hoofs everywhere

The churning of waves
Friends in the water
The blowing of mist
Friends in the air
The grinding of sand
Friends on the beach
To be loved
Friends everywhere

Entertainment#11

I got this email yesterday:

From: Helen
Sent: Wednesday, February 14, 2018 2:42 PM
To: Don 
Subject: Another poet suitor - received this message today.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I saw you online
Then I messaged you

Where do we start?
Your smile ... your eyes
Or your heart?

I'm just your average guy
Who's looking for a chance
Will you accept this message
Like it's our first dance?

Ok, as I mentioned, Helen and I are still talking. This is like the old days when she fed me inspiration for my country songs. So, taking up the challenge I replied:

From: Don 
Sent: Wednesday, February 14, 2018 2:51 PM
To: Helen
Subject: Re: Another poet suitor - received this message today.

Oh, puke.

After all, now that I’m a poet, I have a great command of the English Language.

From: Helen
Sent: Wednesday, February 14, 2018 2:52 PM
To: Don
Subject: Re: Another poet suitor - received this message today.

LOL - totally expected that as your rx.

Ah, now I’m totally predictable. No wonder she won’t marry me.

From: Don
Sent: Wednesday, February 14, 2018 3:07 PM
To: Helen
Subject: Re: Another poet suitor - received this message today.

I saw you online.
I had to message you.
Your smile,
Your eyes,
Your heart.
Although I'm just an average guy,
Is there any chance
That you will accept this message
And step out to our first dance?

I mean, how hard is that? Or does he get the girl because he was cute and tried, but the real poet gets ignored. It will be another night of drinking.

From: Helen
Sent: Wednesday, February 14, 2018 3:10 PM
To: Don
Subject: Re: Another poet suitor - received this message today.

OK.......your re-write is much better.

And with that I have scored 0 points. But maybe I have discovered a new business opportunity: Poetry Makeovers

History#16

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.

Sandra,
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.

History#15

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.

philosophyon-line dating#5

So, why was I in Astoria, Oregon? I was sorta invited to an open mic poetry read by a lady I was trying to establish a long distance relationship with.

I made it to the open mic event, as did she. I drove further.
The event was great. Astoria is great. There are real writers there. And, mostly, they are my age or older. They were appreciative of my performance and asked me to come back.

She didn’t.

Yet, I still wrote this poem:

Title:  First Meeting
My pulse is doing it again.
You would not want me performing surgery
Or even licking stamps.
Monarchs have nothing over the butterflies in my stomach.
However, I’m here.
I’m smiling.
This is important because,
Because
They say at the end of the day
What is important?
The things?
The stories?
The love.
So here I am.
I had things.
I know stories.
Love, I had and lost.
Now I’m searching.
And to search is to take risks.
And to take risks is to grow and improve.
And to improve means my pulse, one day,
Will act normal.
Or will it?
I’m here to meet you.
Are you the love that I can now
Roll in, relish, relax in?
And all because of the
First meeting.

Call me an eternal optimist.