Monthly Archives: April 2015

Parting

Questions

Questions pour from his brain
Into the cup below.
Questions about the coming change.
They pile up and overflow.

Soon the saucer can’t contain;
The queries reach the picot.
Not to worry, they won’t stain;
Though covering the table they go.

Questions pour from his brain
Into the cup below.
But from partaking he’ll refrain,
From the cup he’ll not swallow;

Should he the cup drain,
At the bottom is a plea: “don’t go.”

The Means and the End

Somewhere there are brothers
Who didn’t know how to say goodbye.
They chose to alienate
Rather than shed a tear.

On one occasion, one gave a fist
To his son as a parting gift.
It happened unexpectedly,
In the face, among family and friends.

Another time, the other gave a threat,
Fist held chest high,
Waiting for the right moment;
Begging for the right provocation.

The provocation didn’t come,
In time the fist dissolved into a hand.
So long ago, it seems another time,
Another land.

Withdrawl

Refusing to be provoked,
Another who has difficulty
Deals with imminent departure
Antisocially.

His problem is not the violence of fists,
But the violence of silence,
The hand-to-hand of withdrawing.
He chooses to “drink alone”.

©2015 H.K. Longmore

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An Ode to Wistfulness

Oh, wistfulness!
What treachery lurks
beneath thy maudlin smile:
Sentimental without guile,

Yet if I set a place for thee
At my table,
A welcome guest in my mind,
Thou wilt bring me to naught.

©2015 H.K. Longmore

Interesting

I love the word interesting.
One can use it to describe:
Things that make my heart sing,
A lovely curious thing,
Something appealing,
Topics fit for a king,
A morsel of information for further pursuing;
Things bland,
Stories boorish,
Strange or psychotic behavior.

I hate the word interesting:
Once used to mean my words were a morsel,
It now means something akin to blasé.

©2015 H.K. Longmore

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A Fool’s Lament

Oh, that I had done
What I thought would be most fun,
Instead of nothing.

Oh that I had talked
When your heart still with me walked,
But I gave silence.

Oh that you could know
How oft I came to say hi,
Only you were gone.

© 2015 H.K. Longmore

April Fool?

Author’s note: this was written 01 April 2015. I mention this only so the phrase “this day” is more easily understood.

A memory,
Somewhat faded now;
It happened on this day
Some years ago.

An aspirate tied to vibrating vocal chords;
Next, the tip of her tongue
On her superior alveolar ridge soared,
Air passing through her nose from her lungs.

This was not the end,
Only the middle.
I give you no riddle:
To utter a glide her tongue did bend.

No palatal approximant in her head,
She expressed instead
An anglicized Greek upsilon,
A fine sound to end on.

And thus his name
Passed o’er her lips;
Each utterance that o’er them slipped
Increased her power to tame.

©2015 H.K. Longmore