Summary

A collection of poems about dating and other superficial relationships This is the second in a series of poetry collections on different topics. These poems are about dating in different stages and other superficial relationships as oppose to the more serious relationship collection that is later in the series.

shield

“Scotch, on the rocks”

We’re not in a bar?

Everyday with you,

Six weeks now,

Seems like we’re in a bar.

Me shooting my best,

Very best pick up lines at you.

Bouncing off you-

Off invisible shield

360 around your body.

No smile for effort?

No come back reply?

No notice taken.

Only alone, lights off

Shield off to touch your body-

You’re wild in the sack.

Then, shield back up!

Cold, aloof, silent

Impenetrable shield.

A smile? A joke?

You can drive a man to drink.

There is Something

There is Something

She is not my type.

I do not want to like her.

I do not want to like anyone.

It would complicate my life.

If I was going to pursue-

If I was ready for that now-

It would not be her.

She is not my type.

She takes off her glasses-

The frames too big for her face-

She fixes a stare at me-into me.

It is disconcerting.

I want flirtatious coyness.

I want the common signs of interest,

But she has no expectations.

She is used to being the unseen.

She would be surprised to know-

But not surprised to know-

She is not my type.

I do not understand.

I lean forward, not wanting,

Since she is not my type.

Still, I lean forward,

“We should go out again sometime.”

I say, knowing

She is not my type.

Pub Downtown

Pub downtown

People play in a partying way,

Pub downtown where they have sound.

Dancin’

Darin’

Starin’

Plastic, proper partners meeting.

I work there so I view the scene-

Intellectually…

Mating calls of all kinds are an interest.

Might you share a similar interest,

Co-worker?

Break Up

A true understanding of me will never come to you.

The sadness within me grows

As I begin to know

That the dreams we thought we held so true

Aren’t even the same.

Your belief that you love me is evident,

But though together we strain

We are causing each other only pain.

Concentrative efforts futilely spent.

What good is placing blame?

I don’t share enough of my heart or soul?

The thing that you can’t comprehend

Is whether I am a lover, playmate, or friend

I find myself restricted by that role.

We are just names to each other.

Constructs of the mind.

What I want of you I choose.

The rest I gladly lose.

I love the outline of a man I designed.

We are tamed

By a society that seems to train

That we all deserve a romance;

To be pierc’d with Cupid’s lance

After desire leaves, true love is what remains

Only for us the latter never came.

Woman who with Grace

The female who with grace stands against the world alone

Reminds me of a moonless night –

Velvet Soft and dark with layered depth-

The sort of night one wants to peer into for hours

Like a love sick girl into a wishing well

Or a reflecting pool of beauty.

She stands against the world alone

Content to feel the wind against her skin

Proud, strong and independent.

She needs no one to make her complete.

I wonder if she ever wishes for a caress or a kiss,

The gentle ways of a stranger, perhaps.

I wonder if she has fears she wishes to share,

Dreams she needs some help to make come true.

A moon changes the night.

She is a woman who with grace stands against the world alone.

An Actor’s Lips

You lick them again distractedly

Trying to keep them wet- Fighting off the forces.

Wind, dry air, sun chap your lips;

Lips folks pay to see,

Lips bigger than most,

Softer, sweeter they say

Those who have kissed…

Kissed your lips

Like your tongue does now

Caressing gently

Slowly over bottom lip

Quickly against the top

In and out

Your tongue against your lips

In and out

Your tongue against your lips

Slowly on the bottom

Quickly on the top

Your tongue against your lips.

You look at me-

Your eyes quizzical

“Something wrong?”

You are studying your lines.

I am the gofer on set.

My job to do your bidding

Take care of creature comforts

I offer you Chapstick

To protect your lips.

Perfect Body and A Dramatic Air

Three micro brews and a shot of Jack after our fight,

I think of you.

I wish you had a perfect body and, I, a dramatic air.

If we did, than the dysfunction that is Us

Would somehow make a little more sense.

We would be the beautiful, interesting people.

Dysfunction would seem fitting of our elevated status.

Alas, you are not displaying any rock hard abs.

I tend to be matter of fact and practical.

For those reasons and only for those reasons,

“Us” doesn’t make sense, doesn’t fit, doesn’t work.

Our couples therapist can talk about “conflict resolution”

She can drone on on on about how to listen to each other.

Still, now, with a slight buzz and watching reality television,

I wish you had a perfect body and, I, a dramatic air.

That would solve everything.

Recycling

I threw away his number.

Those envelopes with his address are trash.

What a relief!

Discard men as I discard old sweaters.

New season, new chapter, new friend.

Cleaned out my Closets

To break free of the clutter

Make room for the new fashion.

People, too, sometimes crowd

Sometimes I just need space

Sometimes i just need something new.

Now I search through files and boxes

Hoping I left some contact behind.

Fashions sometimes come back in style.

The Handsome Stranger

The Handsome Stranger ( in a Emily Dickinson style )

I chanced to meet a stranger once

Who took me by surprise

With Gentleman politeness

and startling hazel eyes.

He chose, not I, to do no harm

To lead me not astray.

He merely added a bit of charm

To an otherwise dull day.

I watch the rose he gave me wilting

While my friend tell tales of ill

They say he’s done to other women.

I tell them to be still.

But yet the tales on my thoughts intrude

To discolor the memory of time given.

I wonder why the side so crude

From he he kept well hidden.

Other damsels met, were disgraced

Received by his actions much abuse.

Yet with me he only showed some grace

To a lonely, young recluse.

Why me? I would have been with ease

A conquest I think to be proud,

But he did no more than gently tease,

Although his desire did speak quite loud.

If I told you the handsome stranger’s name

You would tell me of his illustrious fame,

But with me a for moment he spent some time

Without attempting any crime

But inspiring some rhyme.

Teenage BFFs

My friend for whom I keep a spot

Close within my heart protected

From the critical darts I aim at my other friends

(Friends who are fat, selfish, rude

Or in other ways do not deserve

The attentions of my pleasant mood)

Has quite a bit of nerve.

She told me today she thought of me

As selfish, self-absorbed, and distant

Easily distracted during intimate conversations

And, though we’ve been BFFs for years,

Considered me barely an acquaintance

Not worth nearly as much consideration

As her other so fond friends.

I wonder why I thought her so special.

She, after all, is quite selfish and rude

And in this last year has gained a pound or two.

I think next time I’m in a pleasant party mood

I’ll call some of my other friends instead of her.