30/30 – 28 | Beach

I am leaning against the balcony railing enjoying the warm sun, sipping mimosa.   I am on vacation with the family and there is absolutely no reason for me to be up so early.  Everyone else is sound asleep, but as I watch the rising sun slowly inch across sand and seas, I am so I had a chance to enjoy this.  Combined with the perfect cool breeze, it already tells me it is going to be a beautiful day.

In the distance, I spy two lovers walking along the shore heading in my direction.  As I am watching and smiling as they laugh, clearly enjoying each other’s company, stopping every now and then to embrace, lovers really is the only word to describe them. A part of me is just the tiniest bit envious as I see him take her in his arm and kiss her passionately.

They both feel this kiss deeply as hands travel bodies. They stop suddenly, remembering where they are and laugh.

After a moment, the woman suddenly takes off running.  As they get closer, I realize they remind me of a couple I know and I rack my brains trying to remember which of my peers behave like that lovingly toward each other.

The glass of mimosa nearly slips from my hand when the answer comes to me about five seconds before they see me on the balcony and wave.

My husband appears behind me, kissing me on my neck. I turn and give him a good, deep kiss in greeting.

“Well good morning to you!  Where’d that come from?” He grins, happily taking me in his arms to return the kiss.

I point to the couple on the beach, now within clear sight and wave back.

“My parents.”

30/30 – 19 | Yes

Jason stood there straightening his perfect Windsor knot yet again as he waited. He couldn’t help but think on the last they were face-to-face in person.

We could have been partners.  You chose adversaries remember that.

That was the very last thing Taylor said to him before she walked out of his life.

No, that was not fair; she did not walk out.  His pride had forced her, forced her out of a six-year romantic relationship.  They had started to butt heads too often in their office lives and the animosity spilled over into their personal lives. He pushed one time too many nearly destroying his career and losing her altogether in the process.

Was that really nine years ago?

Jason slowly rebuilt his career and was now on the fast track to being a global player. When the company he worked finally decided to break into the European markets, they chose Jason to spearhead the project.  His team was weeks into it when the Europe contact for the project changed hands to new group. He blinked when he read the name given and first chalked it up to coincidence. To be sure, he sent an email, just one sentence.

So, we’re going to be partners after all, huh?

Imagine his surprise and delight when that coincidence replied with one line.

It’s better than adversaries, huh?

He had heard she moved to Avignon not too long after their break up.  His pride had got in the way again back then, as he cut off any contact regarding her. He had no clue she had moved to London. Still,, what were the odds?

He sees her as she emerges from customs and his heart clutches.  Hard.

He finds himself slowing gasping for air at the sight of her.  He had not felt anything like that since…

…nine years ago.

Taylor is on her cell phone when she looks up, sees him and stops cold. Jason is sure she had not properly ended the call when the hand holding the cell phone lowers slowly. Her expression unfathomable as she stands there staring as if in a trance, disembarking passengers forced to mill around the both of them. He instinctively knows she feels this, whatever this is, too.

God knows there was so much past was between them; did they have a future?

He takes a couple of steps towards her and the next thing he knows she is in his arms and it feels so, so…

…so right.

He’ll take that as a yes.

The Serenade

Joann Bishop - The Guitarist

In the courtyard with his guitar
On a warm and starry spring night
Standing near the glow of lamplight
And sings of love so near, so far

He sings of longing as a scar
A deep wound of internal bleed
A wound of perpetual need
Soft chords wrapped tight in notes blue
A testament his heart is true
Love eternal in every deed

She knows it’s her he’s singing to
She hears each note that bear his pains
Within the blood of her own veins
His longing sears her through and through

For it’s a love long overdue
She’s never known the like before
As it’s his heart that makes hers soar
His tender words gently hold sway
Her heart she’ll give to him always
Lets him and love into her door

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub |  OpenLinkNight Week 67

I’ve Got The Look…

All mothers have a certain look in which their children instinctively comprehend to mean  stop and desist NOW.  I do not care how “no mannered”, “fresh”, “no home-trained” et cetera the children may be, all instinctively understand the most powerful wrath short of the Lord Almighty’s is about to reign down upon their little souls and behinds should they continue with the offending activity.

There are the mothers whose look will only work on their own progeny. There are the mothers in which the look not only works on their children,  but other family members’  children and sometimes the neighbors’ children.  And then there are the mothers. Those special mothers who can utilize the look with such force, that even the children of complete strangers will take heed.  It does not happen often, for I realize I have to be in a certain mood and the child involved must have seriously crossed my invisible line of intolerance for it to be at maximum force, but I am definitely among the last group.

That being said, while all mother are capable of that look, not all mothers have the ability or the desire to use to its full potential and that is a shame. Mothers who cannot put the fear of Mom unto their little darlings at a very early age are soon victimized by the tiny terrors they’ve brought forth unto this world.  I ran into one of those unfortunate types this morning.

I heard the mother already pleading with the child the moment the subway doors opened.

“Sweetie won’t you please sit down.”
“You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“Didn’t I say sit down, Sweetie?”
“You’re going to get a pow-pow.”

The mother did not say “Sweetie” I’m using it  instead of the child’s actual name to protect the little hellion more so than the parent.  I also cringe when parents of young children use cutesy names for things. If you are about to discipline your child, the child should fear it. It is not a “pow-pow” it is a “spanking”.  Children do not fear the cute, especially when spoken in that sing-song sugar coated speak most adults reserve just for young children. Sweetie was not that young and I’m guessing having heard such idle threats all his young life, this child was no exception.

I partially read my book, partially listened to my music and partially watched as I sat across from them.   The little boy climbed up and down from the seat, swung on the pole and yelled back at his mother in turns. Several people were giving the mother the stink eye as Sweetie ran among them nearly causing one passenger to spill her coffee and causing another to trip. Mother would apologize, yell at her child, the child would be still for all of two seconds and then the boy was off again.  Even as the train became crowded he still misbehaved, just contained his mini-mayhem to a smaller area.

At some point a woman who had had enough touched Sweetie on the arm and nicely suggested that perhaps the child should sit. Sweetie turned around, screamed at the woman from the top of his lungs on how she is not his mother and hit the woman with the plastic bat he had in his hands.  The mother grabbed the bat from him and apologized to the woman. This was twenty minutes after I first embarked and now even I had had enough. I took off my ear buds and put my iPod and the book I’m reading in my purse and stood just as Sweetie turned around and started to run.   Right on cue Sweetie accidentally ran into me. He spun around and raised his hand as though to hit me and I’m guessing that was the moment it happened.

The Look had made its appearance.

I raised an eyebrow at him and whatever he was thinking about doing, he rethought it as his hand slowly came down to his side.

“Say ‘I’m sorry. Excuse me.’”  I looked down on him.

“I-I’m sorry, excuse me.” He echoed contritely, taking a step back.  I heard someone exclaim “Daaaamn!” as I pointed at the boy and then at the seat next to his mother. Without another word exchanged, he picked up a toy that was on the floor and sat down close to his mother looking at me penitently.  The mother looked at me balefully as though she was about to say something and I looked at her waiting for it.  She thought better of it also, putting a protective arm around Sweetie as I returned to my seat.  There was a small bout of applause as I sat down, put on my iPod and returned to my book. The man sitting next to me looked from me to the kid and back “How’d you do that? And can you please teach my wife?” I just smiled, shrugged and returned to my reading.

A chapter or so later I realized it was still quiet. When I looked across the aisle from me Sweetie was fast asleep. The mother still looked like she wanted to do me bodily harm, but I was not worried about her. A few stops later, she and Sweetie disembarked.

Someday, someone is going to be there when I give some unfortunate soul “The Look” and have his or her cell phone camera ready to capture the moment. Obviously, I have no idea what I look like when I use this unique expression, but it apparently has some mystical power in it and I would really like to see it for myself.

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Slice of Life Story Challenge

Slice of Life Weekly Story Challenge

30/30 – 4 | The Papers

He did not mean to eavesdrop on her conversation as he stepped outside.  He simply could not help grinning as he enjoyed the sound of her voice in business mode as she conversed with someone from an office on the coast. He stood just behind her, leaning against the wide column of the restaurant’s portico and waited. She had finished the conversation and was about to turn around when another call came in and stopped her.

“Why are you calling me now? You know I am out with him.”

What the hell?

“I was going to tell him at dinner, but it was likely to be an ugly scene if he doesn’t take it well.  I could not risk that. I’ll give him the papers when we get home. Handle it in a private setting.”

Give him the papers? What papers? Divorce papers? Why? They’ve been married forever, well nearly twenty-seven years anyway. He was happy. Had you asked him five minutes ago he would have sworn on a stack of bibles that she was also. Granted she had seemed a little distracted these past few days. He knew they were in a crunch another cycle at her job and she was always a little more tense then. He simply contributed it to that. Taking her out to dinner tonight, to one of her favorite places, just a little something to help ease some of the stress. But this? No, he was not expecting this.

The lovely voice becomes more and more dreadful as he listens to her speak to what has to be her lover.

“I know, hon. It is insane for this to happen now at this point in our lives, but I have to tell him. The sooner the better. It’s past the point where I have a choice and I’ve put it off long enough already.”

His head spins as he tries to quickly process what he was hearing, but his mind can’t do it. He moves to the side and waits for her to turn around.

“Look, he’s going to be out any minute, I have to hang…Oh dammit!” She turns and saw him standing there.  He has no idea what his expression looks like, but it must be something fierce gauging her reaction to him as she slowly shuts the cell off putting it in her purse.

There is the most uncomfortable silence as they stare at each other for a brief eternity.  Slowly, he holds out his hand.

“What…?” She looks genuinely puzzled by his gesture.

“You have papers? Divorce papers?” He could barely get the words out.

If she was taken aback by his expression upon seeing him, it was now his turn to be so as her expression morphs from surprise, to confusion, to comprehension and then giggles.  The giggles quickly became peals of unbridled laughter as she sees the incredulous look upon his face.  Unable to speak she simply reaches in her over-sized purse and hands him an envelope.

The envelope had no outer markings, he has no choice but to open it. Inside are what looks like printouts of a couple of Polaroid photographs of orange aliens. No, it was one of those 3D ultrasound images of a fetus, but why would she…? Then he sees the patient’s name on the side.

Oh…

They had tried to conceive. It turned out they both had medical issues that would make it hard, but not impossible to have children. They went for it full tilt, spending serious amounts trying various technical and medical treatments, homeopathic remedies etc. Nothing seemed to take.  When he once suggested adoption she was adamant against it; she had wanted their child or none at all.  For nearly fifteen years they tried and failed.  As their chances grew slimmer with age, they officially gave up trying a couple of years ago when she went into early-menopause. He mind reels anew at the thought as he continues reading the information on the paper.

Estimated 17 weeks.

Oh holy…

No wonder she was worried at what he would think. They were past the point of having a choice, they were having this baby. She stops laughing, for once unable to read his feelings in this, and places a tentative hand on his. He looks from the papers to her, only then remembering how she did not want wine at all during dinner tonight and slowly breaks into self-depreciating laughter feeling incredibly stupid.  That is an expression she can read and falls into a gentle teasing laugh of her own.

“A divorce you dolt, really? After all this time, really?” She punches his arm playfully.

“A baby you doll, really? After all this time, really?” He retorts grinning.

A baby…?” She stops; arching an eyebrow.

He looks at the papers again. Twins.

Oh holy God!!

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30 Stories in 30 Days | Day 4

In The End

Nights in white satin, never reaching an end
Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send
Beauty I’d always missed with these eyes before
Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore
Nights in White Satin – The Moody Blues

We were destiny, as only the stars portend
Two opposite worlds of the equestrian track
You a portrait of its wealth, me a pole post of its lack
An interest in film creates a chance meeting
Our eyes locked in pass of eternity’s fleeting
Despite it all, these two hearts of our transcend
To have had those stolen moments with you
Were worth the obstacles we were put through
Days wrapped in gold sun, a love ascends

Nights in white satin, never reaching an end

Each loving moment together a true Godsend
More so as time lessens the hold on or plight
And we could share our love in the full day light
We were a force leaving all others in the dust
I your earth you know had my complete trust
Your heart a Gibraltar on which I could always depend
It’s beat as familiar to me as the bent of my own
But the familiar sometimes become things left alone
I wrote letters of love, as classic poets have penned

Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send.

In retrospect I would have sent each letter and more
Had I but an inkling of the plans of the fates
By the time we saw your sickness, it was too late
Your health declined with such rapid velocity
The rushes to try any means of medical restore
Introduced a side-effect unplanned
The pain became more than you could stand
A slow fade of the sparkle I had come to adore

Beauty I’d always missed with these eyes before

Somewhere in there came the chorus of rumors
That your fidelity wasn’t quite as strong as mine
One of the reasons for your health’s cruel decline
The last thing I needed was that kind of stress
I saw it as a true meter of others’ nastiness
Like your arrival, your death shook me to the core
I find myself at war with the god’s aggression
That rips from me, my soul’s one possession
In the end I oscillate between faith and rancor

Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore

====================

Hyde Park Thursday Poets Rally Week 74 (October 4 -October 10)

 

Triple A…

Some say I’m a nympho
And that’s quite all right.
And hell yes! I do love it so!
But only one fills me with delight

He calls me his Triple A Pet
Anytime, anything, anyplace I can get

Anytime

Soft as the murmuring breeze of a new day’s dawn
When the evening sun is about to set
An afternoon thunder shower should the mood spawn
Or perhaps during a midnight buffet

Anything

Going out commando on a dare
With nothing over my shape but a very short coat
Then sitting open in a park getting air
While he presses buttons on that special remote

Anyplace

Members of several airport’s Mile High
In the nose-bleeds, for a Knicks game at MSG
The feast at The Great Wall still bring me sighs
The weekend in the brink for the stunt at Wrigley

And I know it’s just not my predilection
Anytime – Anything – Anyplace
For he suffers from the same affliction

In limos, in cars, in buses, in trains
In a taxi during rush hour, against the door
I think we’ve hit every state except Maine
In a hotel picture window on the second floor

Anyplace

Swinging wildly with our motion
Re-enacting the latest porn
At Macy’s taste-testing lotion
And yes, that cob of corn

Anything

The times the reason how they vary
It’s not for food when we go for brunch
One crooks finger the other doesn’t tarry
At my office 3pm, because I needed to munch

Anytime

Anytime, anything, anyplace that he can
I call him my Triple A Man

Manual, anal, oral, it doesn’t end
With but a moment’s loaf until recur
To each me he’s the perfect godsend
That doesn’t mind if you call him a satyr

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Hyde Park Thursday Poets Rally Week 73 (September 20 – September 26, 2012)

I’ll Bide ‘Till Time

A time long since your love I held
A memory that wants to fade
Where an abundance was once held
Reduced to dreams, images frayed

So young our love, this war so stalls
A fortnight wed, in twice passed Falls
In King’s honor I know you serve
But nights lonely, my heart does swerve

My fingers replace not your touch
Though deepest soul can recall such
In shallow dreams that hold your kiss
The gentle roughness of that bliss

Ne’er thought to feel this desperate
I bide ‘till time, returns my mate

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | FormForAll – Basic Sonnet Forms

Ravished

Across a crowded room, his eyes catch mine
Eyes half-hooded by mood lighting, half-hooded by wine
He’s careful not to glance, but for a moment pass
And I equally engrossed, by the drink in my glass

Our paths cross but briefly, among the dancers on the floor
We smile, have a polite greeting, step away and nothing more
It’s a moment over faster than a thunder’s boom
Before we’re back to hooded glances across the crowded room

But this time he doesn’t waver, he lets his eyes penetrate
I grasp the wall for some support, under the glare of its weight
Mesmerized by his power, I realize I am no match
Before I feel him deep inside me just as my breaths catch

I pretend to nod to music heard above the party’s din
But it’s really to the throbbing of his pulse felt within
Eyes closed my body tingles at the unexpected bliss
I feel the warmth of his breath release with mine in a hiss

Guided by steady flickers of strong and tender fingers
That flitter across points enflamed with a teasing linger
My eyes fly open in a flash, just all time slows
Across the room I see him nod and wonder if he knows

Has there only been a passing of a few heartbeats
That took me from the curious to the nearly complete
He stands with his smile knowing, while I stifle down a moan
And leaves me there in throbbing passion, ravished by his eyes alone

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Hyde Park Poetry | Poets’ Rally Week 72 (September 5 -12, 2012)

 

The Perfect Poet Award Poetry Rally Week 72 – Ravished

Perfect voice in an imperfect world
Muse pulls prose from words swirled

I nominate the wonderful poet  Heaven.

Memories of You…

The air moves so softly, against a gossamer sky
The soundless grain of sand, time slowly passing by

You’ve been gone so long, and yet I still felt you near
A vivid burst of memory, which stayed so sharp and clear

I felt as though I could still feel the touch your hand
As we did those last days, along the river’s sand

With your arm draped around me, against the wind’s surge
You made me vow to go on, I heard your plea’s desperate urge

Walking barefoot, our toes gently grazed by the water’s edge
I knew by holding these memories I was breaking my pledge

It was past time to release,
My deepest heart knew
But I just couldn’t let go
Of these memories of you

Once the symptoms set in, we simply set sail
Living large in the mesh of time left to our avail

You my knight, said I was a star; a spirit like mine must glow
And once Valhalla called, your wishes I tried to bestow

I tried, honestly tried living within the masquerade
But without you, I grew dim, even stars sometimes fade

My prayers were a narrative, a psalm, a song, a prose
On the ridges of sanity, I’ve tried everything I suppose

With both compliments and curses in my phrases
I’ve damned and pleaded with the deities in phases

It was past time to release,
My deepest heart knew
But I just couldn’t let go
Of these memories of you

I would chafe at any attempt to ease my pain
As I laid your sword to rest, upon the grassy plain

I was jealous of the wind that could still touch you
With a heaven between us, it was more than I could do

The winds were your caresses, the gentle rain your kiss
And in the cold of winter, it was your arms that I would miss

That held me so close and warm against the night’s chill
I purposely slept uncovered, if you couldn’t warm me nothing will

I found comfort only in memories pretense
A pose of happiness at my soul’s expense

It was past time to release,
My deepest heart knew
But I just couldn’t let go
Of these memories of you

But then one memory crept out for sun
Shinning light on the truth of what I’ve done

The very last gift you had given to me
Before the Odin called and set your soul free

As long as I didn’t think about it, then alive you would stay
But the base of that lie could no longer hold sway

And I smiled, really smiled in a sudden release
Memory of a crown of daisies finally gave me peace

The air moves so softly, a gossamer sigh
A soundless click of time, saying goodbye

It was now time to release,
My deepest heart knew
Now I know I can go on
Even with these memories of you

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dVerse Poets Pub : OpenLinkNight ~ Week 60