Three seconds expand,
Future hangs in the balance:
I emerge, hurried.
She walks casually,
In the center of the hall.
She sees me, smiles;
A delighted smile,
A smile like the ones before.
Heart anticipates:
Oh could it be now
The long silence is ended?
But no words emerge.
I move right, hurried.
She pockets her smile, scowls,
Averting her eyes.
Winds of countenance
Blew the future with full force;
Future remains past.
© 2014 H.K. Longmore
Posted in poetry
Tagged frustrations, haiku, misunderstanding, poem, relationships, timing
My Atrium is no ordinary shop:
No wares are peddled,
We don’t do consignment,
There’s no cash behind the counter.
Here behind the fence
Of my serous pericardium,
You’ll find, if you request,
Emotions—free of charge.
But if you want an emotion
From my Atrium,
You’ll have to step up;
Step up to the counter and ask.
But if you want jealousy,
We’re fresh out.
Well, that’s not right:
We no longer stock it.
Jealousy is messy,
It gets in the cracks,
Turns the grout green,
Stains white things black.
Jealousy does not produce
Manliness nor masculinity;
Those are both best
Grown internally.
So when we find
A trace of jealousy
On the floor
Or oozing down the stairs
We fetch the mop
From the cupboard
In the corner
Of my Atrium.
So, what will you have?
What will it be?
You’ll have to step up to the counter
And make it known.
If you’d rather get your fill
From some other,
That’s your choice.
There are other customers at my till.
But the portrait I painted
While you stood outside
Window shopping
Is etched into the wall.
And there it will remain—
Whether you give your wants a name,
Or never come to my counter again—
In the middle of my Atrium.
Now, where’s that mop?
©2014 H.K. Longmore
Posted in poetry
Tagged choice, communication, consequence, coping, desire, forgiveness, frustrations, jealousy, love, poem, relationships, resilience, sleepless
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Posted in poetry
Tagged bliss and glad life, communication, consequence, forgiveness, frustrations, introspection, poem, relationships, resilience, timing, weakness
I’m told in certain circumstances in tournament soccer play, it can be advantageous to lose a game so that you play a weaker opponent next, and a stronger opponent plays a stronger opponent, possibly losing, thus allowing you to play the weaker team and win. I suppose it is possible that under certain circumstances, a tie would be advantageous, and possibly a 0 – 0 tie. That supposition is a required backdrop for this poem.
The hour appears to draw near
When the game clock sings
And the crowd will cheer;
And I will leave the field a victor,
Despite the score being zeros.
Not by my being a hero, no.
By: my fear of the unknown,
the strength side of my weakness,
my ultimatum uncommunicated, unfulfilled.
All shots on the goal missed;
Some deflected, others poorly timed,
And some badly aimed.
And though time remains,
I’m like a quarterback
Kneeling after the snap;
I must keep the ball
Centered mid-field
And watch the clock expire,
For fear a warning dream
Becomes my future,
And I don’t wake with a scream.
I must watch the clock run out,
From self-respect on a two-way street,
Where what’s good for the goose—
You may think I’ll be tired,
Running around in circles
Trying to keep the ball away;
But the only circles I’ll be running
Will be the ones in my mind.
There’s but two on the field:
The goalie and me.
Guarding the goal, the goalie won’t yield;
Never engaging me to take the ball.
I cannot enter the goal box,
So I set the ball at mid-field,
And slowly back away;
Still, the goalie won’t engage.
© 2014 H.K. Longmore
Posted in poetry
Tagged bliss and glad life, communication, consequence, forgiveness, frustrations, introspection, poem, relationships, resilience, timing, weakness
I peer over the edge
At the rushing water below.
Not content
With second best,
It beckons.
Nor can one-fifth
The world’s freshwater
Plunging o’er its brink
Satisfy its thirst:
It calls out.
Two million liters
And more,
Per second,
Pass its lips.
It cries out.
The Maid of the Mist
Found escape from shame—
Refusing a mate arranged—
In the fifty meter drop;
So the legend goes.
The horseshoe calls,
Calls to me.
With my mass
Going o’er the brink,
It could be content.
With my body
In its depths,
Its thirst
At last
Satisfied.
For all the pain
I’ve caused her,
And her, and her,
I could do this
And feel justified.
All the pain
I will yet cause,
One small leap
O’er the rail
Could forestall.
But I see through the mist;
I see the pain
That leap would cause.
I linger, watching,
Then walk away.
She’ll not have me,
Not have me today.
Her rival Victoria
Retains first place.
The day remains beautiful.
© 2014 H.K. Longmore
Posted in poetry
Tagged burden, consequence, counting the cost, forgiveness, introspection, Niagara, pain, poem, self reflection, suicide, waterfall
She stood, waiting;
Fingers busy,
Eyes focused.
She inhaled,
Her lungs expanded,
Their physical volume deceptive
Of the depth of her emotion.
She exhaled.
Her sigh was perhaps one second long.
Considering the history of the earth,
Her sigh was infinitesimally short.
But by the depth of her emotion?
All the oxygen in the atmosphere
For an infinitely small slice of time
Was drawn into her lungs.
When she exhaled, the universe exhaled with her.
© 2014 H.K. Longmore
He almost got out of bed early today.
Almost, but not quite.
He nearly hit a car as he squeezed past on the right.
Nearly, but all fears he did allay.
She almost ate lunch with them.
Almost, but not quite.
She nearly left in fight or flight.
Nearly, but she did not ruffle her hem.
He almost told her of his ultimatum.
Almost, but not quite.
She nearly kept her words from finding her kyte.
Nearly, but she swallowed ’em.
She nearly fulfilled the ultimatum.
Almost, but not quite.
He nearly broke it, had she been in sight.
Nearly, but he swallowed his “Hi”, literatim.
© 2014 H.K. Longmore
Posted in poetry
Tagged communication, consequence, frustrations, poem, punctuality, relationships
When two people converse
But always on the second’s turf,
How does the first know
Whether the second cares?
They conduct an experiment—
Be their own turf king,
Stop conversing until where
Changes, not when.
But what if all conversations
Between the first and the rest
Are because he initiates?
How can he know the problem wasn’t just him?
And so was born
An innocent experiment:
He shall begin no conversations
No not one.
The antisocial element
Is quite perverse,
But perhaps this verse
Will wipe away the tears
Should it prove that the problem is him.
© 2014 H.K. Longmore
Posted in poetry
Tagged communication, consequence, coping, counting the cost, frustrations, karma, law of restoration, poem, self reflection
It is meeting time.
Distracted by passers by,
Listen and observe.
I observe this one
Coming and going again.
The meeting goes on;
This one goes again.
My body soon shivers hard;
No explanation:
I’m indoors, it’s warm;
Winter has yet to strike here.
But still I shiver.
She returns once more,
A sweater now adorns her.
Shivering explained?
Posted in poetry
Tagged bliss and glad life, empathy, haiku, impressions, introspection, karma, law of restoration, Muse, poem
I am the sea:
You can count on me
To transfer gravitational energy
From the moon to your coastal property.
I am the ocean:
Strong currents flow
Beneath my surface, moving
Marine life faster along their route.
My currents
Influence the weather;
Sometimes to your delight,
Other times my influence is to your dismay.
I am the sea:
Bound only by the shore,
Each crashing wave wears rock away;
My rip currents pull your sand to me, day by day.
© 2014 H.K. Longmore
Two children meet on a beach;
For their sand shovels reach.
A castle they build,
With dreams it’s filled.
But the filling of the moat
They leave to the sea.
And the sea is pleased:
On the castle he dotes.
He reaches the moat with each high tide,
With each high tide, the moat is complete.
With each low, the heat competes
For the castle’s mastery.
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Posted in poetry
Tagged bliss and glad life, commitment, communication, poem, relationships, resilience
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Musings of a Kunderian Monster 