To the Tralfamadorians

"Consider
The increasingly large man
Of increasingly large appetites.

In his narrow youth,
to tell the truth,
Was chaste and plain and mild.
Middling tastes for middling child.
Then came of age
To little change,
Some milk-sopping milquetoast
Facsimile of A.D.'s ghost.

But timid youth, you see,
Shall only set the stage
For tastes that bolden quite unchecked
As yeast beset by rage.
A new man, undercover(s),
Goes abroad, courts danger(s),
Leaves his wife to be with other(s),
Late nights drinking, spent with stranger(s).

Years, stories, sins and waistline
Expand in unison, and how.
What life once took from him in youth,
It puts back in him now.
In some times, such a man as this,
This loser, would be in.
Ask a Tralfamadorian.
It's all the same to him.

Don't dawdle, rush, or choke.
Some people can't tell a joke."
Timing is everything:
Thus the old man spoke.

For You

I wish I'd never met you.
That's terrible to say.
But though we're friends,
'Twould suit my ends
If you'd just go away.

Your smile fairly twinkles.
Your features, they allure.
You never hide
Your warped insides,
But think you are a bore.

You need to be reminded:
Those geeky things you do
Give some a start;
They've won some hearts;
We'd kill to be with you.

You date below your numbers,
Give guys like me ideas.
To be my muse,
You don't refuse.
It's really quite obscene.

In words you can
understand:

Fry found his Leela;
Candide had his Cunegonde,
And Shippers their Millenium.
If they'd all hit snooze,
Or taken a cruise,
No doubt they'd be better off.

In words more my style:
Get out of my head,
Or I'll have a fantasy
And we'll all end up dead.

One Word

One word:

She said to me,
Confusingly.
Inspired me.
The intensity
Of writing free...
Something "me"
Could come to be.

One word:

Danced out of reach.

My writer's plea:
That words should be
Here for me.
(Oh, irony!)

Communication

Introduction...


(Intervention of Time)

Recognition
Presentation,
Hesitation.

Conversation,
Inquisition,
Familiarization,
Implication?
Flirtation?

Confusion?

Communication,
WEDDING INVITATION?!?

Contemplation: (Confustion? Devastation?)
Resignation.
Affirmation.


(Intervention of Time)

Continuation...

'Tis Just the Season

Awake with a start
In my heart.
I know this was part
of Growing-Up Christmas,
But I'm grown, knees groan now.
What is this?
I don't need to know,
But I want to!
Old part generosity,
Young part curiosity.
'Tis just the season
For sly investigation!

Mind races, time flies,
Toward Grandmother's visits,
Her pretextual pies,
Whipped-cream White Christmases
Of myriad types.
Cars slide, and roadblocks
Make candy-cane stripes.
Don't care when I realize
This blissful ignorance, incongruous
In somebody my size.
Family giving, family living, brings cheer:
Season's feelings, after all these years.

The One

Petite, peculiar, passionate person
Whose pain I can't take pleasure in:
Where did you go?  What do you do?
Do you know where to find another like you?

You were never the one.
You were always the one,
I could count on to help when I thought I was done;
Could count on when doomsaying gave way to fun.

This friendship, it died and expedient death.
I moved on, you moved on, it drew its last breath,
and Having moved on, we can never go back,
But looking over our shoulders, let's smile and laugh.

After

You seem to like me.  You admit that it's true,
Smile like the sun.
But you've never heard about the evil shit I do,
and I'm not done.
Life with me is sticky, so severe, stifles laughter,
Turns smile to frown.
I like you too much to live with myself after
I bring you down.

He Who Hesitates

She, I, we had our moment.
I didn't know to think it meant.
A change in her eyes
Brought truth to her lies.
These things, written in subtext,
I read too slow to know what's next.
And then our moment,
It came and went.

I hestated.
I do that a lot.

Who is This For?

Who is all of this for?
What is the reason?
The poems have
No reason.  They
Are Poetry.
Poetry is unreason.

And the emotions?
They are less real
Than the poetry.
They cannot last;
They've already passed.
I wouldn't give anyone that.

Muse News

I can't believe
She sat next to me,
But can't figure out
Why I should doubt
Those tiny, big questions,
Sly little mentions.
They mean nothing,
Or everything.
Opening flirtation
Or tame situation?

Smiling little sprite!
T'was a good night.

I bid adieu
To the old muse.
I'm into
Someone new.

What Happens to a Dream Deserved?

What have I done
to deserve this dream?
This amazingly beautiful,
Unapproachable geek:
She's not just too pretty.
She's too smart for me.
I'm always amazed
How seeing her smile
Could make me shut up
and just listen a while.
Those classes, just a peek:
The highlight of my week.

What have I done
to deserve this dream?
With friends like you,
Who needs enemies?
I don't know how long
Telling me things
I didn't know about her,
Enchanting little details
I don't need to hear.
I may have to start a religion,
and then start believing.

What have I done
to deserve this dream?
She's always right
In front of me, and
Never within reach.
I have a muse
Who doesn't know I exist.
Nothing can come of this.
I'm no Dante, and she
Exceeds Beatrice.
At least the poetry
Won't be missed.