Call Waiting

    Image by Sarlota Ban

There is no one on the line

no one to talk to

no one to listen

when I call your name

There are no more wires

no strings

attaching source to end point

sender to receiver

me to you

What can I do  

with these antiquated emotions?

Box them up,

in a plain brown wrapper

sealed with packing tape

to be placed safely in the back

of a rented, storage unit?

Or do I save them

to an external sorage device

forever safe

able to be accessed

at some future date?

Or do I write them out, longhand…

in cursive

on heavy, scented parchment

then roll it up

and slip into a bottle

to be stoppered

and thrown to the sea?

When I call your name

there is no one to talk to

no one to listen

After a VERY long dry spell I am glad to be back and linking this to Magpie Tales, the weekly, creative writing prompt.

Final Words

Over in the Imaginary Garden Izy presented us with the following writing prompt:

A few minutes from now, you will lose all means of communication with humanity.  You will not die, but will no longer be able to interact with the world.  What’s the last thing you say?  

Quite a bit, as it turns out!  I've been having trouble finishing up the 30 poems in 30 days, but it turns out with this prompt I came up with a couple of very different responses.  (And yes, I'm counting this as three poems for NaPoWriMo.)

The first thing that pops into my mind is the song from the Carol Burnette Show, “I’m so glad we had this time together, just to have a laugh or sing a song.  Seems we just get started then before you know it, comes the time we have to say so long.” 

Then I wrote the following:

If I couldn’t

communicate

with the world

anymore

how

would that

be any different?

   ~~~~~~~

If I couldn’t communicate

with the world

anymore

would I want to scatter

all my pearls of wisdom,

my humor

my clever, profound ruminations

that the world simply cannot live without?

Look out for the military-industrial complex

tell the people you love that you love them

but keep the people you hate guessing

be kind, be fair, be generous

use your parking brake on hills

remember the stories your parents tell you

time rules your life

be kind to animals

Earth is the only home we have

(so far)

show her some respect

Remember to water the plants

tell your gods to stop fighting

hang up your wet towels             

and the answer is

42

   ~~~~~~~

When I can no longer talk 

to you

perhaps it is time to listen

The Ride Home

    Image by Andy Magee

My throat tightens 

when I spot you waiting,

among the clump of students filled with

young, slouchy energy.

Then the mom-worry kicks in.

You look exhausted and rumpled,

smell faintly of stale beer and cigarette smoke.

I wonder how much sleep you've had this week,

this semester.

But finals are over and you’re mine again,

at least for the next three hours

while we drive home.

Your dark, 5-day growth

reminds me that you are a man now,

but still my baby - always my first baby.

You stretch and push the seat back to its furthest  position,

as we head west out of the city

listening to System of a Down.

It should be snowing, you say.

I agree as we look past the windshield wipers

into the grey December drizzle.

I turn up the defrost, as the atmosphere

inside the car is changed by the warm breath of two.

Then the special magic of a long car ride begins.

You shift in your seat, turn down the volume

and start talking…

And then

everything is all right.

This is prompted by The Mag creative writing group.  Check it out.

How I Became Invisible

At Donna’s house

she left the yellow living room

to make coffee;

the cloak of my husband shifted

and as the remaining men talked

I realized I had become

invisible

I tried to join the conversation,

they spoke of seemingly familiar topics:

houses, people, music but they

could not hear me-

could not see me-

I feared one of them would reach through me

while gesturing

or grabbing for the dish of nuts

In time they grew dim,

their voices tinny, far away.

By the time Donna came with coffee

they had disappeared entirely

and I was free

to move about the room

as I pleased


Image from sikhdharma.org