Peculiar Pabulums

  Ethereal memories, Simple contrivances of the mind, Glide through the rooms.   Search and seek. Listen to the whole house. Quiet as an epitaph waiting to be told.   Tread softly. Each creek and moan from the bones Reverberate as spectacular thunder;   Overwhelms, The faintest wisp of their trace, And flee.   Roll through the days, years, To find the one clue that will Prompt them to substantiate here, now. It’s Sunday. It’s only me. Alone.    

You don't have to believe  But you have to believe For it to be true  Conviction Faithful fervor  Lifted up by scrolls and scrolls  Those social folks  All both preacher and chior  Of their religion   Only give you Just enough information To not be lying  Conspircy is harder to prove when context is involved They know it Becuase they beleive in it. 

  Softly whispered no. In hopes of changing why you are here. Once more in anger. No.  Then once more is anguish. no.  It's all so sad, so slight. Yet, The whole room shudders As if being rocketed into space The air’s sucked out of the room With such instant, violent ferocity It takes all light and sound with it. Your knees falter But you stand tall Stern You were elected to do this; The party representative, Unfortunate delegate, To tell your father His wife had passed away. For mom. We miss and love you dearly.

“I love you.” You , referring to you. “…too.” ..., Referring to me. You never say the word “you”. “You” has not been remunerated In the sense that love has a value. Maybe I still need to earn it. For now, “You” as referring to me, Has been replaced with the schwa. It’s that upside down e you see in  the dictionary to know how to pronounce words. But, more precisely, in this case, It’s a mid-central rounded vowel. Like the sound you hear At the end of the word “pencil”. On the cloudier days, I’ve even been replaced With no sound at all. Instead, I am an initial unaspirated glottal stop. It’s the silent pause that we all make Before we start a sentence That begins with a vowel. One day I hope for the full “I love you.” But, that may have to wait. Because right now, Apparently, I am not worth the effort, To get all of “You”.

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." C.C. Colton Sitting here Reading "Ballistic" by Mr. Collins. Watching the group that has gathered and grown With the unfortunate redhead that really shouldn’t laugh. He just doesn’t have the face for it. There are no spectacular events. Nothing worthy of crafting a timeless ode for. No spark of love or death. There’s only the murmur of five conversations From ten pairs of people, Filtering through my headphones And Aesop Rock's "Coffee" “And the last shall be the first to immerse in the pass-out heat.” The only event worth noting Was when their casual ambassador Took the table next to me. “We don’t need no walkie-talkies, nope, no walkie-talkies.” Offering the, I- know-you-cant’-hear-me-so-I-will-just-smile, Gesture of gratitude. How selfish. “Just because I don’t wanna war with you, it don’t mean go warm up the barbeque.” They already have the largest group of friends here. Why monopolize socializing, By ...

It’s never out of a need to contrive divine inspiration. I am prompted By the details, when the details appear With such intimacy, you feel some slight obligation to Kiss them afterwards Simply as a social courtesy. It’s a word when it’s used And I wish I would use that word more often. It’s a nudge from a poem which flouts tradition But, with such skill that at a casual glance, you would Have never known. It’s never clouds, kittens, or buzzing flies. It’s the weight of a smaller being’s belly Resting on your chest. It’s rows of book spines When read with a certain cadence Sound like short lines of poetry. It’s the face of a stranger in a coffee shop Reading Monday’s paper on Wednesday Silently judging you Wondering if you are writing about them.  No.  Not today. It’s slush stuck under wheel wells The smell of an empty house It’s the click of the alarm clock the second before it sings It’s the person in the other room You can’t wait to ask, how their day has been.