Lonely, and Loneliness

Lonely, and Loneliness

Here is the distinction I make:
No - but first, some preamble:

There was this guy who did not have a lot of friends,
and no physical lover. Family is close, but far away.
He reads a lot, feeds a cat. Sometimes [and usually
it's a Sunday] - he wonders how far he is from talking
aloud, on the street. Not yet swallowing after-shave,
but thinking about the money he could save if he did.

There's another guy who travels a lot. Time away from
his wife and kid bothers him. Next year he will merit
an extra week of vacation, and will not need to apply
his own sun-tan lotion to his back. He misses her, but
his flight is at three. And he's bought a gift for his son.
Damn these extended conferences. Thank "G" 4 Skype!

Lonely.
And loneliness.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Surfacing

Surfacing

What was surfacing was as salt-laden as our horizon.
Briny vomit, announcing itself, just as she
[a greater find than Columbus ever managed]
was doing the same.

If I lean a bit, if I tilt with the ship's next wave-fall, 
I can do this. She turned toward me, as everything
but my actual pancreas hit the waves below --
-- frothy-mouthed.

There was something brazen about her acceptance
of such a spectacle. She merely looked into my eyes.
I felt the same about the scallops this evening. Not right at all.
My entrails, sea-washed against the hull -- agreed.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

The Centurion

The Centurion

I had never seen a sky darken so suddenly.
None of us had. Bits of lightning, but no thunder.
In the daytime, no less. Darkness.
It was the sound of the nails that drove us there.

We circled a sight I cannot describe without shuddering
even now, years later. Amid that tumult and horror
I heard things that were, in my lifetime, unrecorded.
Behind the crosses at the time, I cannot tell which of the three spoke.

But I heard the words clearly.
Someone said, Remember me, when you come into your kingdom.
I felt shame at such blasphemy.
Until a voice in between, re-assured him, that he would.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Cheating

Cheating

Some girls have that prescience, combined with mercy.
This one looked over at Geoffrey's horror as he flipped the sheet
-- slumped in despair. Half an hour passed. He ate half a pencil.

Maybe if I kick my desk leg three times he will look over.
Lifting her own paper enough for him to see her own words
-- his complicit smile made her feel she was in a hot-air balloon.

There was joy in watching him furiously write before the bell rang.
Her sheet in the basket, on top of his. No words spoken.
Three days later, as lockers clanged shut, she approached him --

-- How did you do on the final?
He reddened, looking down at his sneakers. I got a B+.
Walking her home, he added, Would've been an A, if you were ugly.

Tonight, as he watched her with their own daughter's homework
he saw the same glint of concern in her eyes. Without the cheating.
And he kicked the table leg three times, as her smile melted him.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

This Is The Answer

This Is The Answer

I dreamed minutes ago, the edge of a cliff.
A river below was a thread. Mountains in the distance.
Blue, and a few cows. Specks. Why would cows be there?
No pasture anywhere. Yet, cows -- as they graze.

I dreamed minutes ago, the edge of a cliff.
Shoreline, a girl was walking. Looked up to where i was.
Surf, and a few seagulls. Why did she look up just then?
No reason to do so. Yet, she turned her gaze.

I dreamed, minutes ago, the edge of a cliff.
Same night, all of this. Same promontory.
Pterodactyls cackled now. What were they in search of?
I could not answer that question. They floated away.

I dreamed, minutes ago, it seems. The edge of a cliff.
Rocks shimmied under my feet. I am falling at this point
and half way down I pass by God who is blurting as if mad
Fool! The true dream is the second one. Wake to it, today!

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Salt

Salt
 
I survive without sugar, but cannot live without --

My dolphin...
when you are less than sweet with me
I imagine an ocean of Coca-Cola.
Uninhabitable.

It is proven. Iron will rust in it.
Blue, or even dark green, is always better than brown.
Carbon dioxide pushing everything to the surface?
Strangers popping the tab?

I am able to hear everything you are saying.
Imagine what everyone else has to drink.
At your meanest. Your saddest. I envy no one.
Because I alone, kiss those eyelids, teeming with

-- salt.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

The Semantics of Art

The Semantics of Art

When it comes to opposites, I think concrete is neat-o.
The antonym is abstract.
At a certain level we understand it.
Concrete is solid. Both in the abstract sense and the literal.
Wood, paint, steel, or cement.
Conversely, [and rightly so] abstract is basically what not, is.
Yet, you could make an abstract structure, using concrete.
Could you make a concrete structure, using abstract?
Not really.
You will be too busy looking for a solid medium.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

No Inscription

No Inscription

Off the coast of Normandy I descended with other divers
to examine the HMS Swift, sixty-nine years sunken.
Mission was dog tags and a settling of a family's concern.
We found what was needed after three days of work.
-- A task the wealthy have the means to pay for.

On that day we finally breached the kitchen area.
Youthful men once gobbled grub and pondered death
in the adjoined mess. There I reached for a ring.
Once on the finger of a soldier, now in my satchel.
An inscription later revealed the grateful recipient.

Last night as I searched for a pair of fresh socks I
mistakenly opened your drawer. Under panties I found
a wedding ring I know I never gave you. No inscription.
I sank it back in, choosing in that submerged moment
to not question a mystery I would rather not know about.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Crooked Cross

Crooked Cross

Remember how we used to criticize the cross of St. Bridgit's?
Blame Christianity in general for its shoddiness? Its slant?
We sat in the park and laughed.

There was a squirrel scrambling up a tree.
Entranced, we watched it circle the trunk, and jump to a wire.
Tippetty tippetty, all across a power line.

Missing a beat, it fell to the ground with a bit of a splat.
I love that you did not laugh. Nor did I.
Neither of us breathed, until it regained itself… and bounded on.

I note that neither you or I have ever laughed at that crooked cross
since that time. Nor have we talked about it. You sip your tea
and I sip my coffee, in the park.  We seem to silently agree --

Not everything is perfect. Not anywhere.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Anarchy

Anarchy

Lawlessness. Nihilism. Revolution. Insurrection.
Disorder, Chaos / Mayhem. It's one thing to apply oneself
to political upheaval.
But what about life itself?

A tattoo on your tit that says, I will not bend.
What happens when what is, twists it for you?
There's a thing about being on the outside that doesn't translate.
It will only hurt until you let go --

-- and realize you are alone.
There is no one that really cares. Except you, about you.
Bailouts may apply to financial institutions.
But text everyone you "know" right now.

No one cares about your troubles.
No one will commit to your anarchy.
Shut it on down.
You are going to get through this on your own.

Or not at all.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Leaves

Leaves

The eyes of trees.
Interesting how they have veins.
Instead of blood, they carry water / light.
Spring and summer, they drink of each.

But conditions require change.
Conditions require change.
A season comes when cold moves in.
Roots shiver.

Trust evolution, if nothing else.
Don't let external circumstances tell you
when it is time to fall to the ground.
There is a reason we have invented shelter.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

Fighting With You

Fighting With You

Everyone loves a storm.
No forecast can predict what it will do.
We are enticed in that moment.
Oh, the damage. We run outside to take it in.

Something about fury we cannot control
intrigues us. Especially as it inflicts others.
We re-assess our own insurance coverage
but other than that -- God help them!
 
When I know I have displeased you
there is not even time to gather lawn chairs.
Those eyes squint. There is no turning the channel.
In light of the above, forgive my fascination --

Because even then, I only love you.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

We Are

We Are

It was the craziest pact ever. So romantic.
In grade school, an English teacher taught the true meaning of the word.
At least in the literary sense.
The way things ought to be, not the way they are.

Meet me here one year from today, I said.
There was laughter in tears. A nod from you.
Kisses on your eyelids, salt on my tongue.
Fog wrapping you up as you walked away.

But I have never truly wandered far from this tree.
And tonight, three hundred and sixty-five sunsets later
Here…

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --