Out to Lunch

Allow me to set the stage:
The stage was set,
From strings to winds,
Percussion at their back.

Trombone scans the audience
Looking for familiar face;
Between strings and lights,
Sees none.

No matter,
Though life-changing it could be:
Now is time to focus,
Now is time to play.

Trombone shifts to euphonium;
Focus, his shadow.
Back to trombone,
Shadow maintained.

Applause over,
Ovations ended,
Instruments
Clear the stage.

Brain out to lunch, shadow stays;
Trombone turns to talk to tuba,
Then bid farewell until next time
The orchestras combine.

Leaving the stage,
To retrieve his shell,
Trombone's brain
Returns from lunch.

"By the way,"
Trombone brain says,
Replaying the recording made
While out to lunch,

"Someone called out,
'Nice job on the trombone!'
While you were talking to the tuba."
It may have been that familiar face.

Already gone from the stage,
And minutes passed,
Trombone
Picks up the pace.

Back on stage,
Putting instruments in case,
Trombone searches remaining audience,
Finds no familiar face.

Trombone leaves
To put all gear
In his car,
Then enters again

In search of that voice,
That face.

Crowd thinned,
It was clear,
The Complimenter
Had left.

Trombone replayed the compliment,
To identify the voice;
Memory obscured by delay
Before the replay.

Time steals clarity,
Memory morphs,
'Til Trombone remembers it
As if compliment was heard when spoken,

Leaving Trombone with the guilt
Of ignoring the Complimenter,
And the effect,
But not the intention.

© 2023 H.K. Longmore

The Impact of Therapy on Creative Writing

I often write poetry as a form of therapy. But, I have found in recent months that, some events or feelings for which I would have written a poem, instead I have made a note of it, under a heading “to bring up with my therapist.”

It need not be this way. Longer ago, further back, I would write the poem, and then discuss the poem with my therapist.

One such event that I took to therapy without writing a poem happened at the end of October, after a concert I performed in, involving the delay my brain sometimes has in processing inputs. I talked about it with my therapist at my next therapy session. But as a result, there’s no poem. I’m going to rectify that soon, and will add the link when I do.

Closed-Captioning

Movie fantastic:
Watching real life unfolding,
Senses enlivened.
An unwanted change;
Video signal goes blank,
Audio remains.
Still captivating, 
Listening to audio:
Movie fantastic.
Video returns:
Brief interludes side by side;
Pulse quickens and skips.
Signal cut again,
Audio also is lost;
Movie fantastic.
Now closed-captioning
Only signal that remains.
Relationship strained?
With no video,
No audio, still I'm sure:
Movie fantastic.

© 2022 H.K. Longmore

Interconnected and self-governed?

Vulnerability

Another Criminal Minds quote, S6:E10:

When we were children, we used to think that when we grew up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability. To be alive is to be vulnerable.

Madeleine L’Engle

Love Feels No Burden

Another quote from Criminal Minds. Season 6,Episode 6, final quote:

Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of its trouble, attempts what is above its strength, pleads no excuse for impossibility, for it thinks all things are lawful for itself, and all things are possible.

Thomas Kemp
Quote

Sacredness in Tears

Each episode of Criminal Minds has a quote near the beginning and the end of the episode. Here’s Season 5 Episode 11’s ending quote:

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love.

Washington Irving

Beans – an Elegy

Oh to have your plaintive voice
Interrupting our virtual meetings again.
Those expressive meows, your speech with humans,
To distract and entertain once more.

But your cuddly, soft paws
will pounce on the keyboard no more.
Your sentinel spot, standing watch o’er your human,
lies vacant.

Thou eater of cat grass,
which took a week to grow
Thou master of the bowls,
so earning the pride of human souls,

Into the night you’ve gone,
Walked on through that door—
Fare thee well, until we meet once more.

© 2021 H.K. Longmore

Unnecessary Risk: The Original

Author’s Note: when first I wrote Unnecessary Risk, I could have sworn I had already written a poem by that name. I didn’t find it, so went ahead with it. But I stumbled upon the first one recently, so here it is, unedited, almost exactly seven years later after I first wrote it.

The thrill of unnecessary risk
Flows through my mind quite brisk
I can hear you now saying tsk-tsk.
Into my life I fold it with a wisk.

From the height of the stairs I leap.
But the landing angle’s too deep,
So I catch the concrete, sow then reap.
My knees are grated, but my speech needs no bleep.

The scar from the incident, seven years later.

I roll, my “ouch” uttered, pick up my hat.
A quick check of my knees; blood does not yet mat.
I look around and find no one around —drat!
I’ll be the last on the bus, so I fly like a bat.

© 2021 H.K. Longmore

Google Maps Place Reviews

Dear Google,

No, I do not wish to review the place I went hiking this evening. That’s why I ignored it the first time you asked. I don’t care if I’m in the top 20% of Park reviewers. I don’t care if I took pictures that no one else has in your prying algorithm’s eyes.

It’s my relative secret. I went to two other hiking trails, and they’ve become so popular there was no place to park. I don’t want this trail to suffer the same fate. True, the relative difficulty of the boulder scramble discourages many.

(Note that this portion is not required to get to the waterfall)

And people who aren’t familiar may lose the trail, never making it to the waterfall.

Sure, other people know about this place; it’s not a true secret. But I prefer to reserve my knowledge of it for close family and close friends, and only to impart it by hiking it with them.

A little pūkana to show I’m serious about wanting to keep this my “secret” 🙂

So yes, I’ll review it on my WordPress blog, where it will dwindle in relative anonymity, and have little chance of blowing up. I know, this won’t help me increase my ranking above the top 20% Park reviewers. Please see above.

Happy surveilling,

Henry

Apples

Apples crisp crunchy
Apples
Apples are my friend

Doctor’s bane
Totally sane
Crisp crunchy apples

Crispy crunch ’til the skin is no more
Crunchy crisp straight through to the core
I think I’ll have one more

One more
One more
One one one one more more more more

Apples
Watch out for those cyanide seeds

©2021 H.K. Longmore

Fetal

Curled up in a ball
Wrapped up in a hammock
Swaying in the salty breeze
Saline stained cheeks turn salty red
Red ball dips below the water line

Or, buried in the sand
Naught but head
Protrudes from mock grave
Sand a bearable weight of being
Brings calm to anxious limbs
Deepens once shallow breaths

Huddled ’round a 55 gallon drum
Fire burning low
Fingerless gloves the compulsory style
Company sells tragedy cheap
But Rails sing a compelling song
To be part of the wave

Buried in thoughts of death
Unbidden
He seeks new life

©2021 H.K. Longmore