I am a Storyteller, first and foremost. This is my blog for poetry, prose, stories, excerpts of my novels and videos. Life poetry, prophetic poetry, poetry for all genres. I think you'll find yourself here if you read long enough.
Thursday, March 4, 2021
Tuesday, March 2, 2021
Desperate Characters
start music now
Desperate Characters
Desperate characters
we dance in the dark
trying to capture
that magic, that spark
Wining and dining
and yearning to feel
the way that we did once
when true love was real
Desperate characters
we probe with our eyes
and try to detect there
the truth and the lies
Hoping for something
that can't be replaced
by strangers and others
that time has erased
Desperate characters
we give it a whirl
out there on the floor
the ballroom of the world
Of loving and losing
and losing some more
two ships without anchors
that have crashed on the shore
Still looking for magic
and longing for home
cause a house is just shelter
when you live alone
Desperate characters
trying so to be brave
holding onto a moment
that the heart cannot save
Then the music, it stops now
and the bright lights come on
in the dark, I was hopeful
but I'm leaving alone.
©by Voo
Sept 13, 2005
1:23 a.m.
Fabian Perez
painter of these marvelous paintings............
The Rest As they Say is History
*an experiment in poetry*
The Rest, As They Say, Is History
Throwing caution to the wind, I walked into the night,
Down the street, to your door,
Knocked, knocked again,
And gently turned the door knob and it opened.
And there you sat staring blankly at the wall
Then turned and stared blankly at me
You opened your mouth to ask "How did you.....?"
But I gave you no time to ask.
Slamming the door, I crossed the room,
Turned off the tv, turned down the lights,
Took a sip of your wine, took a bite of your apple,
And threw myself into your lap and kissed you like no man
Had ever been kissed before.
This lip, tongue congress continued on
For some fifteen minutes or so
And then I stood up, dusted off your dustless lap,
Took another sip of wine and turned the tv back on,
Flipped the light switch back up, hurried across the room
To the front door, opened it, took a deep breath,
Went outside, slammed the door, and did not look back.
But peeking through the window,
I watched as you came to your senses,
Swallowed the leftover wine,
Poured some more,
Ran your fingers through your hair,
Stood up awkwardly and said,
"What the hell was that?!"
Then you sat clumsily back down
At your dinette table, frowning,
And contemplated your life
And whether you were possibly awake
Or dreaming and whether you ought
To call the police and report a break-in
Or if you should go back to sleep
And finish a rather remarkable dream.
Caught in the dilemma of confusion
And mild euphoria,
You turned the dregs of the wine up
And drank every drop,
Stood and threw the bottle in the sink,
Turned off the tv, turned on the stereo,
Did some sort of bump and grind dance
In the middle of the kitchen floor
To a song,
By a band that sounded
Like a cross between Frank Zappa
And Frank Sinatra......
And stopped and shook your head
With the biggest smile possibly
Ever seen on your face
Since you were a toddler
Tasting ice cream for the first time.
When you crossed the room
Headed for the door,
I knew it was time for me
To make my presence vanish
And I turned and ran down 21st Street
Just as hard and fast as I could
Possibly run in high heels
On a cracked asphalt street
At midnight in the rain
On a Wednesday night in February.
But I wasn't fast enough
For you caught me
By the arm,
Twirled me around,
My hair flying, earrings flying,
Heart beating like my brother's
Little tin drum
And just about ready to burst
Either into song or screams of fear,
I wasn't sure which.
I had had it all worked out before hand
But I hadn't counted on you coming after me
I hadn't counted on that because you were
The shyest damned man I had ever met
And you never looked at me, smiled at me, noticed me,
Or gave any evidence that you knew I existed.
Which was why
I had formulated this god-awful plan
With no hope of reciprocation
On your part
And no intention whatsoever
Of explaining myself or
Redeeming improbable intentions
On my part or anybody else's part,
Either in part or to the fullest extent
Of the law, give or take a crime.....
For I hadn't thought much further
Than taking you unawares
There are your kitchen table
Drinking wine
For I already knew that
You never locked your front door
And you always had dinner
At Tom's Cafe on Wednesday nights
And you were always home by nine.
No, I was not a stalker!
I just knew things.
Like I knew I had loved you for at least six months
And that I dreamed about you every night
And that I had made up my lovesick little mind
To hunt you down like a dog
And kiss the living daylights outta ya and split
And I would say now
that that was a Fait Accompli.......
I was pretty proud of myself until I felt your hand
Go around my waist and the other one grab my hair
And you pulled me backwards and we went tumbling down
Into Mrs. Tompkins's flower bed right on top of her gnome
And a granite saint that I couldn't rightly remember the name of
At the moment
And first thing I knew, you were laughing like a crazy man
And kissing me back so hard and so sweetly that I could hardly
Even believe that I had ever thought you shy.
"Don't you think a proper introduction would be in order about now?" you asked,
Pulling me to my feet and off the top of the unfortunate saint who had rolled down
Under a fake toadstool and hidden his face in shame at the shocking
Machinations of a girl, half-crazed with love and a caught-off- guard man who didn't
Rightly know if he should be thrilled or terrified out of his mind
Or what his next move should be.
"I'm the girl that loves you." I blurted out like an idiot and reached to shake your hand
As you shook mine back, dazed and confused and wondering if you had heard Correctly "You....you're the girl that does what to whom?" You stuttered
And removed your hand from mine and put it in your pocket for safe-keeping
Like I was going to take it home with me or worse
And so we stood there in the rain with our hair plastered down upon our heads
And our clothes fitting us like skins of plastic.
"Well, I'm...." you began and I rushed to shush you
"I know who you are." I said excitedly
"You work in the cubicle behind mine
And you always have tuna for lunch
And you read the paper and listen to NPR
And whistle when you walk into work."
"That's....that's... correct." you said, puzzled
And cleared your throat and kicked at a rock
With your shoe
"But why should you.......?"you began
And fell silent, reaching to remove a tendril
From across my left eye.
"Why don't we go somewhere warm?"
You finally completed a sentence
And I nodded and wiped mud and dirt
Off of your chin and brushed leaves
From your jacket and pretended that it was
A perfectly normal thing to do
That the entire scenario was a perfectly normal
Thing to do
And that I was a perfectly normal girl
Standing in Mrs. Tompkins flower bed
In the rain which was an absolutely normal thing to do
With a man I hardly knew and who didn't
Know me at all to speak of
But boy, I sure did want to kiss you again
With your wine flavored breath and your
Soft brown eyes and your smile that was just
Barely able to contain itself
Now beaming at me and becoming prominent.
I took your arm and stepped over
The fake toadstool, the gnome,
The nameless, humiliated saint
And smiled a tiny smile of my own,
Wanting to believe in miracles,
Or at the very least.....good luck
And we made our way back to your house,
Back to your door, back to the kitchen table,
Back to a fresh bottle of wine
And back to what you had been doing
Before I had so rudely interrupted you
Which, as I found out later,
After three glasses of wine,
Fifteen shy sweet kisses
And four that were anything but....
Was the shocking revelation
That you had been sitting there
Trying to think of a way to get me
To notice that you were alive
And about getting up the nerve
To ask me out on a proper date
And possibly, one day, hopefully,
Having the good fortune to
Actually kiss me like a proper gentleman
But I had ruined all that, hadn't I?
So, yes, dear children,
That is how your father and I got together,
Fell in love, got engaged, got married,
Had all you lovely babies and this wonderful marriage
And this wonderful life and these wonderful stories
And lived happily ever after
The end.......
And it had all started with me
Planning and scheming and taking matters into my own hands
Because your father was too shy to do anything on his own
So I fearlessly marched myself up to his door, into his house,
Into his kitchen, into his lap, "Into my heart!" you interjected
"Into his heart" I repeated smiling broadly and proudly
And we kissed and said at precisely the same moment:
"And the rest, as they say.......history!!"
©by Voo
Feb 12, 2019
4:14 a.m.
And so we stood there in the rain with our hair plastered down upon our heads
And our clothes fitting us like skins of plastic.
"Well, I'm...." you began and I rushed to shush you
"I know who you are." I said excitedly
"You work in the cubicle behind mine
And you always have tuna for lunch
And you read the paper and listen to NPR
And whistle when you walk into work."
"That's....that's... correct." you said, puzzled
And cleared your throat and kicked at a rock
With your shoe
"But why should you.......?"you began
And fell silent, reaching to remove a tendril
From across my left eye.
"Why don't we go somewhere warm?"
You finally completed a sentence
And I nodded and wiped mud and dirt
Off of your chin and brushed leaves
From your jacket and pretended that it was
A perfectly normal thing to do
That the entire scenario was a perfectly normal
Thing to do
And that I was a perfectly normal girl
Standing in Mrs. Tompkins flower bed
In the rain which was an absolutely normal thing to do
With a man I hardly knew and who didn't
Know me at all to speak of
But boy, I sure did want to kiss you again
With your wine flavored breath and your
Soft brown eyes and your smile that was just
Barely able to contain itself
Now beaming at me and becoming prominent.
I took your arm and stepped over
The fake toadstool, the gnome,
The nameless, humiliated saint
And smiled a tiny smile of my own,
Wanting to believe in miracles,
Or at the very least.....good luck
And we made our way back to your house,
Back to your door, back to the kitchen table,
Back to a fresh bottle of wine
And back to what you had been doing
Before I had so rudely interrupted you
Which, as I found out later,
After three glasses of wine,
Fifteen shy sweet kisses
And four that were anything but....
Was the shocking revelation
That you had been sitting there
Trying to think of a way to get me
To notice that you were alive
And about getting up the nerve
To ask me out on a proper date
And possibly, one day, hopefully,
Having the good fortune to
Actually kiss me like a proper gentleman
But I had ruined all that, hadn't I?
So, yes, dear children,
That is how your father and I got together,
Fell in love, got engaged, got married,
Had all you lovely babies and this wonderful marriage
And this wonderful life and these wonderful stories
And lived happily ever after
The end.......
And it had all started with me
Planning and scheming and taking matters into my own hands
Because your father was too shy to do anything on his own
So I fearlessly marched myself up to his door, into his house,
Into his kitchen, into his lap, "Into my heart!" you interjected
"Into his heart" I repeated smiling broadly and proudly
And we kissed and said at precisely the same moment:
"And the rest, as they say.......history!!"
©by Voo
Feb 12, 2019
4:14 a.m.
(a mindless write
in which I just typed
without thinking about
what I was typing
and seeing what was on the page
when I got through......)
in which I just typed
without thinking about
what I was typing
and seeing what was on the page
when I got through......)
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