Questions

How does 
      a kiss stop being just a touch of lips
      polite in greeting, but emotionally fleeting?

Where do 
      the contents of two souls 
      start to slowly collect and then spontaneously connect?

Why now 
      in this new friendship 
      still learning ours feats and flaws, something gives pause?

What has 
      shifted in our core 
      and lay bare that which now has us both hopeful yet scared?

Who are 
      we to question 
      the stars and the moon that such an epiphany could happen so soon?

When does 
      a kiss stop 
      being just a kiss, turning some magic corner and becomes this? 

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Open Link Night : Week 154

I’ve Gotta Be Me

I informed a colleague last week, that there is very little that I cannot somehow smutty up without even trying hard, case in point a call with a bank…

Bank Operator (with one killer baritone): Good Morning, welcome to X Bank. My name is Joe and what can I do to give you outstanding service this morning?

No seriously, the man had a voice. Now I know the emphasis on “outstanding” is part of the telephone script spiel, but the way he delivers the line? Dang.

And just like that, I’m off.

Me (with my never far from dirty, but now pure gutter mind for that voice, is remembering to behave): Well regrettably there’s nothing you can do for me Joe, however you can make *Name on Debit Card in My Hand* very happy. I found the card on the subway platform and I’m sure *Name* would appreciate knowing it’s not just floating out there.

Joe: Oh! Well that’s very nice of you to report it in. Let me check the system; what is the number on the card?

Me (in best professional voice – I said I was trying to behave wasn’t I?):*card number*

Joe: Thank you, one moment please…

I grab my scissors out of the drawer while I wait because I know what’s coming next.

Joe: Yes, I have it. Again I would like to thank you for calling this in; that was very nice of you to do. As for the card…

Me (interrupting): I know, I know. I’m taking scissors to it as we speak and will drop it in the shredder for confetti making in a moment.

Joe: Okay. Thank you. Is that all Miss… (he realizes I never gave my name and quickly sallies forth) or is there anything I can do for you?

Oh and there goes that dang emphasis again.

Me (not entirely joking): Read the phone book or 50 Shades or… oh never mind.

Joe (definitely laughing): Wow it’s only Monday morning and not even nine o’clock.

Me (behaving myself thrown out of the window): Right, as though you’ve never talked dirty on the phone first thing on a Monday morning before. You’ve given outstanding oral service today, Joe. You have an excellent day.

Joe (barely keeping the amusement out of his voice): And you as well, thank you for using X Bank.

Me (stage whisper): Not the way I’d like to use you and your voice right now.

I hang up the phone to the sound of much chuckling on the other end.

I gotta be me, I gotta be meeeeee 

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Let’s see how the others are slicing it this Tuesday…

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

 

The Power of Speech

At six I didn’t sleep for over a week
Fear of being damned for a kiss on the cheek
Words my pastor were constant to preach
Ah yes, the power of speech

Working for my degree made my nerves fry
Kept hearing the words “It never fails to try”
Encouragement is a subject not required to teach
Ah yes, the power of speech

Her beauty takes my breath away
“Nice boobs” was all I thought to say
Her slap corrected that social breach
Ah yes, the power of speech

Two years later I have a different surprise
The diamond of intent bringing tears to her eyes
“Yes” brings in a star once out of my reach
Ah yes, the power of speech

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Open Link Night : Week 153

Remember

Within your hearts abode
                  a code
The slices of our past
              can last
Simple joys to not perish
              but cherish
Go on and  reminisce
               since
You hold the key
             see?
There will be your smile
                  awhile
Within the territory
             memory
             glory
              me

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Welcome to Echo Verse

An Echo Verse is a poem where the last word or syllable in a line is repeated or echoed underneath to form a rhyming line.

dVerse Poets | Meeting the Bar: Echo Verse

Cannicular Days

The day’s just begun
And it’s a hot one
Step out with caution
An hour in the street
I’m already beat
Destined for exhaustion

Warmth first felt a blast
To winter’s cold past
But now no relief’s in sight
The summer heat rays
Cannicular Days*
That stifles most of the nights

Seeping from within
Crawling on my skin
Sweat leaving salt trails on me
Humidity’s bane
I pray for rain
Just for my own sanity

Yes, summer winds down
Seeing leaves turn brown
But from fall or this hot spell?
I live for the day
It all goes away
From these hot Dog Days of hell

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* Cannicular Days – Another term for the dog days of summer, coming from Canis – dog. The night skies proclaim dog days Orion’s dog – Canis Majoris, high in the sky with its brightest star being Sirius.

I learned a new (for me) poetry form! Welcome to the Alouette

The Alouette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more stanzas of 6 lines each, with the following set rules:  Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7 Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b

At Tuesday’s Poetics Toni (Kanzensakura) challenged us to write about the infamous dog days of summer, which I missed posting by thismuch. But it’s now Open Link Night so I submit it here.

OpenLinkNight-mic

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics : Dog Days

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Open Link Night : Week 153

 

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries: Toot

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries aka the crap that comes out of my mouth sometimes that surprises even me.

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A little ego tripping twixt myself and a recent attendee of one of my classes with whom a fun rapport developed via email exchange.

Me:  Weren’t you supposed to email me and remind me to send you this information?

Erstwhile Student:  I had full faith in you that you would remember 😉 Thanks for a seriously awesome training day! You rock…but I’m sure you already knew that.

Me:  * clutches pearls and gasps *

Why, it would be far too immodest of me to self-accolade in such an unseemly manner! I cannot openly concede the methodical superiority in which trainings held under my exacting tutelage are conducted. It would merely serve to further exemplify the depth of all other instructors lacking and that is unkind and unfair.  Luckily, I’m not fair, kind or modest and the horn in which I personally toot is often of a decibel suitable to guide coastal ships in inclement weather.  😉

Besides, the class is only is good as the attendees, many thanks to you for being an equally awesome student.

Erstwhile Student:  LOL! Oh, if only an eighth of my technical classes were even half  as entertaining as yours. Thanks!

Note to my fellow trainers, instructors and teachers reading this. JUST KIDDING!!!!  As I said ego tripping, but it is always wonderful to receive such emails acknowledging your work.

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Let’s see how others are slicing through their Tuesday…

Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

I Cannot Tech This Anymore

I cannot tech today.

I who work in a technology based industry have been in relative fail mode for anything that has a power button today.

The overhead projector and instructor PC in the training room are in an apparent lover’s snit and do not want to talk each other. I check the wires, display format etc. nothing.  Of course I discover this minutes before a class is set to start.

Fine ain’t got time for dat as the saying goes. We’ll do this the ol’ fashioned way and use the still active portable projector like I used to do not too long ago. It’s not as pretty or as high-tech as the overhead, but it will get the job done right? Right. Wrong. Keystone. Horizontal and Vertical settings. Zoom, only showing one monitor. It’s not happening. Oh come the freak on already! All this futzing around is still happening at 10:15 for a class that was supposed to start at 9:30. I look at my students admit tech failure and start to talk talk them through the training.  I speak a lot as it takes longer to describe a concept where a simple click of the mouse to show them all at once would have worked miracles, but we get through it.

I come back to my desk and accidentally kick something, that hits something, that pulls the plug on one of my monitors.  Greeeeeeaaat! Follow the affected line down through the spaghetti of cords under my desk and get it all plugged up, only to realize I have now pulled out my mouse in the process and back into the spaghetti I go.

A run to Starbucks struck me as a right fine idea, by then.  Well, that my colleague leaving me a note, putting the bug in my ear (a really creepy crawly action if taken literally I must say). So I grab my phone with my Starbucks app, insure I have my cardkey to get back in the building, take my sunglasses and head out for some much needed refreshment.

So, do you want to guess who got in line at Starbucks, got all the way to the front of the line, was one measly person away from placing an order when she pulled out her phone and realized the damned thing was as dead as a door nail? No really, guess who! Hint: It’s the same person who did not have a dime on her otherwise. The same person who could not use her Starbucks card instead because it was in her wallet. The same person who left her wallet at her desk, because why would I need my wallet when I have my Starbucks app on my trustee phone? Uh huh.

Technology: 4 – Raivenne: zilch

Silver lining? Yes, there is one. I made it back into the office building Starbucks-less, but just before it started to to pour outside (good thing I had my shades with me, huh?).  Also, this computer has not done anything else untoward since I started typing. Yay, the tides are turning…

But I’m not touching any light switches with my bare hands for the rest of the day, just in case…

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Let’s see how others are slicing it up this Tuesday.Slice of Life : Two Writing Teachers
Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

No Photos Please!

A friend of mine was posting in a group on Facebook and apparently “Funeral Selfies” is a thing now.

Yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like, taking photos of oneself at a wake or funeral and then posting it to social media for the world can see. Really. And I hate to think this, but in this land of you know you want to know what’s happening with me right this minute! instant information, it so feels so much like something some in the “millennial” generation would do and I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how anyone could be so incredibly narcissistic, at a funeral nonetheless, and think it is okay.

At the wake for my late-husband, Del, a cousin I had not seen in nearly a decade at that point, showed up in bright pink rollers and a scarf that was a joke of an attempt at covering them, so she was already pissing me off. I mean, who shows up at a wake in rollers? As I’m speaking with Reese, my late-husband’s cousin and best friend, I hear the familiar click of a camera behind me. I spin around and call out “No.” waving my index finger. It is Del taking a picture of a couple of friends/family near of the back of the room.

“It’s okay, he’s not in the picture”. She explained at my reaction. “He” being my late husband, aka the deceased that was laying at the front of the same room, and the reason why we were all there at that moment. I continued shaking my head and waving my finger in the negative, but Del lifted the camera preparing to take another picture. I remember thinking “Oh, you’re going to argue with me, the widow at her own husband’s wake?” instead what came out of my mouth was “NO!” at a volume that stopped everyone in the room. I had not even realized that I had taken the physical steps to beat her with her camera until I felt Reese restrain me. Whatever was on my face, Del and those she wanted pictures of were quickly going outside. Luckily, selfies as we know and use them now did not exist then. Because I know if she were truly taking a picture of herself at the moment Reese could not have held me back.

I find even taking photos outside of a funeral parlor or at a church where it’s obviously a funeral is gauche. A wake/funeral is not about you. If you yourself are not in deep mourning, you are there for the deceased and/o for those who are in mourning. That’s why it’s called paying your last respects. How are taking photos of yourself showing that respect? At the very least have the manners to wait until the repast for such.

If you don’t have pictures of friends/family members at happier events whose fault is that? Show up at a party, a BBQ, a wedding or family reunion. Or better yet host one to have people over so you can happy photos.

I think taking pictures at a wake/funeral/interment of the living or dead is so disrespectful enough. Turning around and then posting such on social media is a level of gracelessness I simply cannot comprehend.

“You look lovely, that dress is so cute! Where was this?”

“Oh thanks! I got it at the boutique. That was at Nana’s funeral last month.”

My immediate family knows “NO PHOTOS”. God help anyone taking pictures at my funeral. Just for spite, I am showing up in every photo as the creepy shadowy figure that doesn’t go away no matter how they try to crop or Photoshop me out.

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Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

Slice of Life Writing Challenge | Two Writing Teachers

A Pearl Among Stores

How did I not know Pearl Paint closed?!?! Not just closed, but closed for a little over a year now. It felt as though I was just there recently, but time is indeed fluid to the heart as it was December 2013 I was there last according to my bank statement.

I had wanted to go by Pearl on a day off just because. The place always inspired me and as one can see from the dearth of posting as of late, I could use it. Still, something said go online and check the store’s opening hours before I drag my tail down there and that’s how I learned yet another NYC societal if not historical landmark that has fallen victim to the giant called capitalism.

After the shock of the discovery, I semi-joked I have not been this mournful since I read the Red Wedding scene in George R.R. Martin’s “A Storm of Swords“.  If you do not know what the Red Wedding is by now, don’t bother asking. Just understand that it’s something bad.  Sucker punch, gasp out loud, gut wrenching bad.

Because it’s a new wound for me, i want to pass by the site and poor libations on its threshold. That’s how the unexpected loss of Pearl Paint has struck me.

Pearl Paint was an eight decades old institution. Whether the amateur looking for stamped tin foil for an occasional scrapbook or the professional looking for gold foil leaf for a mural in a skyscraper, Pearl had it. I did not go there often, as Pearl was off my beaten path, but once I was there, I was there for a couple of hours minimum. Since the early 80’s, when I first discovered the place, it was six floors of dusty, seemingly nonsensical, glorious mayhem.  But if I needed it artistically, Pearl Paint had it. And it was not just an art supply store for many of the staff and fellow shoppers were artists in their own right. I come in with what I think is a simple question or request and leave some time later having absorbed knowledge, techniques, tools and sometimes gossip.

And now it’s all gone.

I mean doors locked, gates closed, assets sold off .

*Gone*.

Yes, there are other art supply stores, this is New York City, but none like Pearl Paint. I Alas no, like so many other places and spaced becoming a part of my past, it’s now just memory.

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Come see how others are slicing up their days.

Slice of Life - Two Writing Teachers

Tuesday Slice of Life Story Challenge – Two Writing Teachers

 

Pony Girl

We your mares tremble with unbridled desire
As you pace among the stalls trying to decide
Loves lost, loves gained, with sweet inquire
I alone have learned the lesson of quiet pride
I hear the call of your voice, but I still my head
For the taunt reins on my collar steady me too
And with blinders on there’s something to be said
For letting my eyes alone implore for a feel of you

As I exhale slowly enjoying the feel
Of the swell of my breasts constrain
Against the solid bones of steel
The supports of my corset’s main
My cups near overflow the leather
Giving you a most delectable view
You smile at my subtle pull on the tether
Knowing I drip just thinking of a feel of you

My wrists are love bound of course
And well trained, where you lead I follow
I am lead to sup from your source
A drink I so greedily swallow
And your liquid kisses dot my face
Oh what is a good submissive to do?
For I don’t want to squander a single trace
Of even the smallest feel of you

In the heat of moments found using weighted dice
I chomp at my bit feeling my tail unfurl
The tugs from the clips on my lips do entice
As you saddle-up me – your wanton pony girl
At last my love, my master it’s me you ride
It binds me through and through
Making every synapse of my insides collide
Now complete and full with the feel of you

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Going way off-track with this one

dVerse ~Poets Pub | Open Link Night