This week: Moan/groan/whimper - complaining poems Edited by: Fyn  
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Several excuses are always less convincing than one.~~ Aldous Huxley
Negative thinking is subtle and deceptive. It wears many faces and hides behind the mask of excuses. It is important to strip away the mask and discover the real, root emotion. ~~Robert H. Schuller
A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy? ~~Albert Einstein
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So - I'm not writing. My two best friends are not writing. Why? Perhaps because suddenly our environments have shifted.Writing tends to be a solitary exercise in which we each have our own idiosyncratic parameters. Extra people or noise or responsibilities can certainly put a cramp in our style!
Why else am I not writing? Not sure, exactly. Maybe it is because I am a contrary sort. Usually I do NOT want to go out. I'm very happy at my desk doing what I do. Now because I can't go anywhere; it is all I want to do. I mean, I need to find toilet paper somewhere. Oh, wait. No, I don't. Did that last week. The car needs an oil change. Except that the oil change places are closed. And, I suppose it makes no difference if you are supposed to be staying put. Honestly, there is nothing I need. Plenty of food. No need to go out. Safer to stay home. BUT I WANNA! (I'm being good but I wish someone would snag my keys!)
I miss my kids. I miss my grandkids. I miss the great-grands. I miss meandering the little consignment place down the road. I miss going out for coffee and having long, convoluted yacks with total strangers on any number of random things. I miss the corner bakery. (I'd kill for a bakery-fresh glazed donut right about now!)
I've discovered I don't care for facetiming. Always when I am not presentable! And it is too hard to aim phones right. I know what my kids look like! Seriously doubt they've changed that much in three weeks. And, if you've figured out how to lose fifteen pounds in that time, I still don't want to see it because I know where they went! I got 'em!!! So, another reason NOT to facetime!
Worst part about people being home is that those not usually at home are AT HOME! It's really hard to work when my hubby wanders into the office and starts talking about random things like:
1. He's thinking about maybe buying a new battery charger because his apparently doesn't work and he can't charge the battery for either the motorcycle he shouldn't be out riding on orfor the riding lawnmower our yard is too small for and he has at least two push mowers should he decide to mow the yard in the first place.
2. He comes in to talk about thinking about cleaning the garage, wanting to verbally bounce ideas off me about what to put where. Or grouse because he can't throw away the stuff he would normally toss in the dumpster at work. Ot that the garbage men won't take ANYTHING not in a garbage can or a trash bag and he can't get 500 gallon garbage bags. Or that if he were to sort out the stuff in the garage attic that blah, blah, blah.
3. What should we have for dinner?. (At 7:30 in the morning.) I've had two cups of coffee, my stomach is in no way awake (or hungry for breakfast,) let alone dinner yet!
4. Or how come with 927 channels of cable plus a gazillion more between Amazon and Netflicks he can't find anything to watch? This is a question one cannot answer. There is no correct answer.
5. Then, when he's wandered around, cleaned the kitchen, reorganized the dvds (again), filled the woodbox, gotten the battery charger working again and actually put three things away in the garage, he'll come in and play solitaire on his computer. Completely dismissing the game is called 'solitaire' for a reason, he plays with a nonstop running commentary on needing the buried black ten, or another loss or a lousy win or a great win or ... or ....
Nope, not writing. Door's been closed this whole time. He just came in asking, "Don't you want the door open since the fireplace is burning and it is cold in here?" Umm, no. If I were cold, I'd put on a sweater. Door. Closed. Trying to write. Ah, but I kinda love the guy so murder is not an option. Oh, and isolation/social distancing so I'd be stuck with the body. Sigh.
He's used to being busy 99.9% of the time that he isn't sleeping. He's watched all the WWII/Tow-truck Rescue/World's Wildest Weather shows his brain can handle. We never fight. We've come close recently. We both kinda want the other one far, far away. Farther away than the house is big.
Oh, he's back. Hang on a sec ... ... ... ... ... Okay, I'm back. I've agreed we will work on a puzzle this afternoon.Told him the decision on which puzzle is all his. (It was so much easier when we had that house full of grands and greatgrands a week or so ago!) I just reminded him about how glorious that silence was when they'd gone. He frowned. Then told Alexa to 'Play Country playlist."
I want to listen
to the breeze arguing with
the wind chimes outside.
He needs to lower
the volume on solitaire.
I can't concentrate.
I am not a fan
of complainers: falling in
black hole of abyss..
Windchimes fell prey to
sixty mile per hour gust.
Some days, I can't win.
.Puzzle was a bust. Went through every single piece three times. One edge is missing. Wasn't the puzzle I wanted to do anyway. (No, I did not 'intentionally' feed that piece to the pooch!) Hubby tried the smoker today. Epic fail. I feel so badly for him. Ribs now in the oven. They smell amazing. Didn't even try to write today. We laughed. A lot! We had fun being silly. It was a great day overall - ribs aside! Oh. Wait a minute. Ribs were flat out amazing! Tender, juicy - oh so good! We stood, side by side, in the kitchen, tearing into them like two Neanderthal throwbacks and giggling like crazy.
So, what has any of this to do with poetry?
Just a Spare Rib or Two
Distilled emotions,
everyday 'tidbits'
re-perceived
re-configured
re-ality.
Savoring the juicy,
the spicey,
the well-seasoned
and the long overdue
moments.
The twinkle that smothers impatience,
the sticky washrag
of yesterday wiped clean.
Bare bones tossed to the dog
who buries them
like an old grudge.
None of us to remember where
because it doesn't matter.
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| |  | Invalid Item
This item number is not valid.
#1871479 by Not Available. |
| |  | Don't Ask (E)
A poem when my last nerve felt 'stepped on' and I had given up complaining for lent....
#1946298 by SusanFarmer  |
| | | Caricature (13+)
An expressive piece about those whiney people who think that their lives are catastrophic.
#1843655 by Bambi |
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Elycia Lee ☮  writes: It's a good reminder to slow down. I do hope people realise that and cherish what staying home can bring.
We should! Someday we'll be telling grandkids or greatgrands about the great pandemic of 2020!
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Poetry: April 15, 2020 Issue [#10127]
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