jonberger

I sit
in secret
silent
(as you can see).

I am, as always,
afraid to make my needs manifest.
Better to sit in the dark.

I want to know her wit
and her wonder
but does that debase my interest
in her as a human?

I don’t think so!
It increases it.
But what if she thinks I only want one thing
that I am a creeper
an aggressor?

What if she feels intimidated
by my sheer masculine presence
and all the hair
and sweat
and testosteroni flaking off of me?

I’m not sure I could chance that,
however much the prize
would be worth.

Better to sit in the dark
cursing, fumbling
wondering where the light switch is
blinded by the blight.

The consequences of his actions were extreme
but he didn’t seem to mind.
"Look," he would say
hitting his head against the wall
smiling slightly,
"No feeling!"

Some earlier accident left him
quite literally
a numbskull
but you could emotions writ easily
across his face
when he played music he found awesome
or told a story he thought cool.

He had a lot of each of those.

His room
was a hive
around which many buzzed
and I
tried an occasional flyby.

He may have introduced me
to the Sex Pistols
or I may have found them on my own.

It was quite a while ago
and he’s probably found
even more things to care about
than songs and stories
and girls.
I would know
if we were still in touch.

Months later

the tale was told another way
but at first
the tale entailed
a drunk child
at his 17-year-old door
asking for something
he was unprepared to give.

Deterred by a cold shoulder
she went looking for warmer destinations
and found them.

Those destinations took root
and relations grew
into relationships
which sailed to seized opportunities.

Metaphors grew further mixed
and molehills grew
and all from a simple rebuff
due to inexperience
and distaste
and no way to know how
to negotiate a way
with a girl
who was just trying
to say hello.

She touched me
and I recognized something
I hadn’t recognized before.

She touched me
and I thought thoughts
I oughtn’t’ve thought.
I hadn’t sought ’em.
I fought ’em.
It was all for naught.

She touched me
and I found my rough edges
softened.

She touched me
and I cried.

She touched me
and I was a manga schoolgirl
giggling ‘tee hee’ at the most ridiculous times.

She touched me
and I was looking around corners.

She touched me

She touched me.

Before there ever was a you
there was a her
and she was something
I had never known before.

She was a friend of mine
who was seeing a friend of mine
and she was good and kind
and I could find all these reasons
to be around them.
To be around her.

This was a while ago
before I had any game.

We didn’t do anything
we shouldn’t do.
I was much too mannered
back then
to consider any untoward act.
No moral crimes for me!
My betrayals were only emotional
at that point.

In the years since
as you know all too well
I have become much more refined.

That old thing?
That short little abomination?
That is what broke the back of the block.
That is what made me free
of what had broken me.
It stopped me from being what I was
for far too long:
a stunted little thing.

I was stopped from holding on
to what I had
been for so long.

And you can see
it isn’t any good.
it isn’t wealthy in words
in weight
but it’s done
which is more than I can say
for anything else
in the last year
or nine.

This tiny monstrosity has been completed
and you can see it
unlike anything else lately.
It broke the back of my block.

Thank God.

There are worse shames than this
worse fates.
You will survive these events.
You will go on.
This will not break you
crushing as it may seem
at this moment.
You will go on.
You will.

Just make it through this moment
and the next
and everything else
will seem easier
somehow.

Today is not the worst
no matter how it may seem
at this instant.
Rest assured
There is always
worse to come.

And when we parted
well before dawn
I found that it had snowed
quite a bit
in the night
and we had not noticed it
so occupied were we
in our other activities.

I was unprepared for the weather.
Last night
it was autumnnal
– late autumn –
but the season had fallen
like snow
onto something softer
and now the streets were covered.

White was everywhere
untouched.
No one had been out
as far as I could see
in this still night.

I stood by your front door
and breathed in the crisp fresh air
taking in the experience of this new night
just as the evening had offered fresh experiences
all their own.

It didn’t take long
for me to be prepared
for the new day awaiting me.
Soon, the sun would be coming
and I should be gone
but I was so excited
to see what would come next.

Remember this, as you always should:
that stewardess is never going to go out with you.
She’s being polite
as all service industry folk are.
She’s be fired if she weren’t.
You do know they, don’t you?

Her smiles are saccharine.
Her flirting is purely professional, pal.

And anyway
if you call her a stewardess
not a flight attendant
you’re not gonna get anywhere anyhow.
Hell, I’d probably think
about learning her name
if you wanted to try and and impress her
In the first place.

Really,
I’m just saying.

When I wrote that poem
I was thinking about you
– but I’m not anymore.
It’s strange.
It was just a few days ago
but the heart,
she is a fickle funky funster,
is she not?

Whatever went on in my extremities
to inspire me so
all those days ago
seems to have wandered away,
I guess.

I’m experiencing something else today
and what I’m writing now
is no longer about you.

…with some notable exceptions.