On Buying, Sharing, Wondering Love

Oh it is the season now,

and our lives,

torn up, shredded, a certain fodder in the air,

for Man might feel abused,

when in reality,

he ought felt this way,

decades ago,

a century perhaps,

so those followers

could stand a chance.

 

There’s no condemnation

could be strong enough to withstand

the scrutiny of the individual mind.

Oh to recognize the theoretical expanse

of the human condition

taken for chance.

 

If when a cry could send the body reeling,

a ledge perhaps, a modern day semi,

a conductor noticing in a sudden glance,

that life as easily as born,

would become just

an imaginative notion we enhance.

Oh then might the world better understand,

the turmoil in losing our concept on love,

is far greater than the answers we seek,

without the cherished ideal of support of understanding

of forgiveness when fear is our only safeguard.

 

For it is the toys of our world,

we focus upon today,

the frivolous in nature,

the common good toward overcoming the would

of this season

when buying her love is far greater

than actually knowing her sweet elegance.

 

There is lost in the masses of the local bistro,

the purpose in mind,

cell phones inclined,

to keep searching, keep your eyes open,

keep your conscience …

wanting,

we are all in lock-step,

trying to own the sensitive lift,

a spiritual sojourn,

the perfect gift.

Our Lives Mirrored

funeral

***

We all have lives,

this cannot be argued

no matter the girth or the slight

however, the notoriety or discretion,

each idiosyncratic measure of

who we are

can only be truly defined

internally.

~

But, you knew that already,

that’s why last night downtown with the boys,

you made an ass of yourself,

went up to her and told her you thought,

she was a slut,

because just minutes later

you wagered with your inebriations

that you could score with the rudest commentary.

Why she smiled,

it turned you on,

you glanced back at your problems

hinting a forward motion.

When you looked back in her eyes,

her delight just made you swoon,

forgetting about that initial commentary

now recognizing she really is pure elegance…

~

Damned if she didn’t give you her number,

even I sitting nearby was disturbed by that.

You walked away smug,

she joined her girlfriend and you physically disappeared in her mind,

even though you could still see she was

maintaining her sort of human condition in the crowd.

The boys, the posse, the conquest moved

to the other tavern

where the sure thing had been told.

you crammed the napkin with her number in your tight jeans,

and forgot about her for the rest of the night,

because along came Jenni, Sarah, Michelle, and anon …

~

Laundry day,

sorting out pockets

where when unfolding the napkin,

Jill’s name appeared in a scrawl.

It took you a minute or two to recall

who she was.

Who she was.

Who she really was!

Then you dialed the number

to reach a disconnection,

blew her off and called her a ‘bitch’

for giving you the wrong number.

~

A few days later,

while stepping off the train

to go to work,

your normal morning routine,

there was a delay,

a procession of sorts,

they were all sort of familiar,

each wearing the same veils,

another typical gathering that occurred

nearby your building, in that park,

where families grieved,

never any reason to bear notice.

Though today

you wanted to glance further,

there was a familiar elegance,

that couldn’t really be defined,

some energy, that asked you,

refine your arrogance

just this one time.

~

Turns out she did give you the wrong number

a purposeful gesture for a woman protecting herself

from the constant barrage of harassment,

yet tonight when she went home,

she couldn’t get the word out of her head,

too mindful of four years earlier in college,

when the hot breath of that stranger

impelled her world forever,

leaving her cold and barren,

she knew tonight with your clarity,

she could never really let go.

~

Today there appeared so much love in that gathering.