SAY HIS NAME

dVerse Poets Pub

He is heading out

for open road,

 big rig humming.

Thanksgiving morning.

The day is crisp and clear.

He will eat his holiday dinner

at some truck stop,

where his banter with the waitress--

a kindred spirit--

will be about keeping the world running

while the rest of 'em

spend the day gettin' fat and happy.

In a while,

he will put in a call to Janie and the kids.

They'll be over at mom's today.

In their pre-meal prayer,

they will say his name.

And yes, he is thankful.

Hell...lucky to have a job at all

the way things are going.

The road snakes on to somewhere

anywhere

nowhere.

And the holiday travelers

blow past him,

just another obstacle

in the way

on the way

to their overindulgence.

He remembers how,

in the beginning,

he thought this would be

a romantic kind of life.

But as he looks out now,

across the endless expanse,

he is struck by the thought

that it's kinda like

gazing at the moon

in daylight.

AFTERWORD

He's just a nondescript dude
 more polite than most
 no need for posturing
at this stage of the game

The one he's not playing

Saw him at the theater
saw him at the school
saw him at the cafe
in the booth
so calm and cool

Think you're a tough guy
and he looks like a pushover
maybe have a little fun
maybe heap some abuse
but you've just drawn to
the worst hand of your life
with the one you never should choose

Talkin bout the man with nothing to lose

Your woman
your job
your booze
will keep you playing the game
by somebody else's rules
and you'll always stop short
of the things he might choose

That man with nothing to lose

Who knows when
the proverbial straw
came into play
suffice it to say
that life has been exposed
as a game for fools
and he is no longer playing
by anyone's rules

When life's no longer
what it seems
you walk along in a dream
a slow motion movie
where there is no sound
and people's eyes appear
to be screaming
and you wonder
in a curious way
if it has anything to do
with you

Saw him at the theater
saw him at the school
saw him at the cafe
in the booth
so calm and cool

And afterward
the afterword
is how did we fail him
but that's easy because
day by day
and each and every day
we shuffle along in a dream
where we wanted to reach out
we had it in our minds
to reach out
we had it on our agenda
to reach out
we had it on our calendar
to reach out
but somehow
we just didn't
and so it's easy to discern
just where we went wrong
my friend
cuz day after day
and each and every day
we
have
all
failed
to
love

IN PRAISE OF LONELINESS

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Easy come
easy go
I've watched the parade
march in and out my door
the flute players
and the drummers
the only thing they share
in common
is their transience

while I play the silent monolith
stoic
with eyes that must
not water

I see the couples
when I'm out and about
so many of them look
mismatched to me
but at least they've got something
(a roll of fat maybe)
to hang onto through the night

been in that comfortable rut
before
and a comfortable rut
is still a rut
with
ironically
less and less rutting
taking place
as time goes by

does it matter
which life you choose
when there's no way to win?

but

the one thing I've learned
and maybe I'm "lucky"
in that respect
is that pain
is the only way
to feel truly alive

SOMEWHERE STILL RINGING

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

He believed
with unswerving conviction
that in a world teeming with souls
surely there'd  be one
just tailor made for him
and that when he found her
the one to share it with
his life would begin for real

And yes there were some
who lingered for a time
but they came and went
like blips on a radar screen
another case of mistaken identity

And all he could do
when each ship of love
crashed and burned
was look away from the carnage
(for he was good at looking away)
and turn to face the bright sun of tomorrow
that surely loomed just around the bend

He did this in the spring
He did this in the summer
He did this in the autumn
With the last leaf still clinging
and somewhere still ringing
was the sound of her voice
calling from the hill

And they would rush
to each other
and his life would begin for real
no more holding back
for lack of inspiration
and he would do all the things
he had no penchant for doing
alone

For only with a sense of purpose
does life begin in earnest
and with each passing day
he knows now for sure
that purpose is her
the one who will stay

Come down in time
he whispers
come down in time
for he knows that time
is slipping away...

And he read the other day
nearly seven billion souls
on this bright blue ball of confusion
whirling in space
and he figures some wires
must have got crossed
and some bridges didn't
and he can't help but wonder
why it's still such a lonely lonely world

MASTER OF MY FATE

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads/Wednesday Word Challenge

The lonesome moon roams the streets
searching for mad love
in all its myriad forms
it's image reflected in the gutter splash
that peppers my trousers
as a fancy horse-drawn carriage blows by.

A calypso drumbeat seeps
from some nearby edifice.
The crickets sing along.

I duck behind a shop
to drain the snake.

Memories of sinning in the alley
thrust
bang
bite
come flooding back.

I'm so uncouth
I laugh
slurring my words
it's only life
I'll just go back again
and take it on the chin.

Drifting along
weaving this way and that
muttering curses
into the dying night.

I am the master of my fate
but where are my subjects?

The moon climbs rapidly
in its umbral sky.

A poem swirls round
in my head
edgy and cryptic
teetering right on the brink
of beginning to stink.

It's about walking  up to
the precipice
 looking down
deciding to back away
and fight another day.

Yes
I believe in mad love
in all its myriad forms
one's only leverage
in a broken world.

A cock crows.

A street sign says
69th Avenue
and I know I'm getting close
though can't remember which
of these lawns might be yours.

This one looks fine
for a little nap
and a snooze
I know you will  find me
and make me your famous souffle.

Ahhhh...

Let the dogs come by
with their pee "drive by"
just as long as I 
can be here
on the street
where  YOOOOO LIIIIIVVVVVE

Burp.



Written for Kerry's Wednesday Word Challenge at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.I had the honor of providing a list of 20 words to be used in a poem. I managed to utilize all twenty of them! Please follow the link above to get in on the fun.

ANYONE?

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub

Will anyone be there
by your side
when your chickens come home
to roost
when the shit's run its course
through the goose
and he's too crapped out
to squawk the name
of some supplemental insurance company


You think you've got her locked in
you think you've got him locked in
and you think sure--they'll be there
but there's a lot more piss
gonna run under the bridge
before you've crossed it for the final time


So I will ask again
will anyone be there
by your side
when the front desk has just rung 
to say it's check-out time


Such a lugubrious thought
that you may just have
to go it alone
one more time
burned all your bridges
most in the heat of the moment
yes, you  could say them  kids
are "estranged"
but it's all about pride
and holding that grudge
and not giving in 
cuz that's who you are
and they followed your lead, 
now didn't they?


More important to be right..


GODDAMN RIGHT!


So what that you couldn't
trust anybody in the end
and just when you look
for a friend
everyone's indisposed


I suppose 
that's the way it goes
and you quit attending funerals
with the pissing and moaning
and gnashing of teeth
cuz instinctively you knew 
no one's gonna do that for you


And now here comes your parade
with its motley little band
but sure would be nice
to have someone to hold onto
who isn't a hired hand

WAITING GAME (a pantoum)

Poetry Potluck

One Shot Wednesday

I have led a life of great anticipation...

trading the hours of my days for the digits in a ledger--

biding my time; buying into the myth of security in numbers

and always believing that love was just around the corner.

Trading the hours of my days for that which gave me pleasure,

I languished in lobbies and watched the women of the world walk by,

assured the law of averages was in my corner--

a lonely sojourner playing the waiting game.

Watching the worldly women walk by,

I lobbied for a glance or a smile--

a lonely sojourner playing the waiting game,

still convinced that love was just around the corner.

And so, with a glance or a smile,

once in a while one would come my way--

curious, as she was, to see if love was just around the corner,

and for a while we'd fill the empty space with laughter.

Yes, now and then one would come my way,

but in the end those who wait are never waiting for each other--

mindful, as they are, of love that's just around the corner,

leaving just an empty space and the memory of laughter.

And near the end, those who wait will always hold a place for one another--

finding, as they do, a kind of purity in numbers,

trying to fill some empty space with memories and laughter...

leading lives of great anticipation.