Tag Archives: frustrations

7-11 at 11:13

Posted on 26 March 2014 | Leave a comment

I turn the corner
And spy in the dark,
In the shadows
Behind the seven eleven,

A man in pajamas
And a warm jacket
In the cool March night air.
He swings his foot forward;

Not a graceful motion,
But swift: he kicks
A rock on the ground
Or perhaps just the air.

It brings to my mind
The way I feigned
To kick the wall
After a lost point in racquetball.

Perhaps it was the maudlin song
Playing at the grocery store,
Or maybe echoes of my heart or yours,
But I feel the ache contained

In his silent outburst
In the shadow
In the dark
At eleven thirteen.

© 2014 H.K. Longmore

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Gone As The Year

Posted on 30 January 2014 | Leave a comment

Gone are the days when she parented me,
Saying, “You should come with us sometime;”
Should being a parenting word,
Not a word for use with an equal.

Gone are the days when she talked with me,
Free as the dawn, bright as a butterfly.
Plauged with constrained conversation,
No give-and-take reciprocation.

That year is gone; now I get the silent treatment
Or paying no attention to me,
Only to others around.
A test of jealousy?

I feel no jealousy, only self-respect.
Of him, nor him, nor him am I jealous.
Rather, I respect myself to enforce this condition:
Pay attention to me, talk with me, be an equal.

Today the condition is not held.
Today she has only deliberately ignored.
Today is filled with inequality.
So I fill my heart with disregard.

Tomorrow I’ll try to disregard today.

Copyright © 2014 H.K. Longmore

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Three Short Strands

Posted on 25 November 2013 | 1 comment

One

Every time I do, I’m glad I did.
Every time I don’t, with myself I’m livid.
Perhaps someday my gladness I’ll learn
To follow instead of letting my stomach churn.

Two

One winter night
On her memory a blight:
Seized as I stood;
The result would not be good.

Pulled from a fall,
I turned to see gall:
Certain it was my choice,
To sorrow her feet gave voice.

Three

Over the edge he leans,
The river’s eyes gleam.
He tries to let it run through,
To bid its warm touch welcome,
But fears what he’d become
If nothing grew.

Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore

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Hey buddy, can you spare some change?

Posted on 24 April 2013 | Leave a comment

There’s that famous saying about changing those things you can and accepting those things you can’t.  What it doesn’t detail is what to do to help yourself accept those things you can’t change.  Or perhaps, those things that you could change, and want desperately to, but are bound by duty or by honor to accept.  This latter case is especially difficult compared to those things you just can’t change.  So what does one do?  I leave it as an open question for my readers (all zero of you 😉 ).

Today I have found I am grateful that I never did put that old racquetball away; taking it out of my car and slamming it against the cinder block wall at the back of the building was the vent in my teapot.

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