PADM #9 Requiem

Dare I dream of you when you are gone to the dust

as they lower your casket down out of view

I will not say farewell, for that would mean an end

to our days together, I will shed the tears for you, 

I will not allow my doubts lead us into regret

I will not weep and I will not forget.

Dare I dream of you when the winter's cold comes

when the snow lays upon the stones above your grave

instead I will hold onto the warmth that was your touch

the comfort and the hope that your presence gave.

I will choose to remember our last embrace

I will miss the easy smile light upon your face.

Dare I dream that you are dead and now gone

like the autumn leaves, orange, red and then gray

as if the seasons would cease to change at all,

Was there something else you could stop to say

or the way you would lean over for one more kiss

these are the moments about you I will miss.

PADM #8: Nerds

What is it about Nerds?
I mean that there is actually a lot about nerds that I like
BUT
there are also a lot that I don't like about how the Media 
and by Media I mean TV entertainment (BBT) defines nerds
and nerdism as.
Nerds are not just like other humans save that most of them are
mostly human with feelings and fears and doubts and sometimes
even hopes that they will be like other humans.
Nerds are really aware that they are different and that the awareness
is what makes them different from others because Nerds feel this
more strongly or rather acutely than others.
Ironically, I am not a nerd and maybe it is that others seek to define 
me as a nerd and thereby quantify Nerdism as a quantifiable category
in order to fit all those social outcasts and rejects and failures into a 
tidy box so that maybe by the definition of rejection they will become 
something like those other classifications that make the others feel
like the universe is actually explainable and thus safer from the very
anxiety that drives so many people like me to define ourselves by a 
formerly derogative name given to us by ignorant bullies when we 
were too young to realize that no one can define us other than 
ourselves although they will try,
So what is it about Nerds that makes me ask that question?
I am a nerd, at least by identification with the plights of 
social rejection and a distinct inability to conform to
this, the expected social norm.
Perhaps I am a nerd because I reject the idea that I must be a nerd?
unless I am a geek
which would be something else entirely.

PADM #7: Once

Once,
When will you be leaving? She asked as we stood on her stoop.
I sighed and scratched at an imagined itch as if to delay my
departure for one more moment before turning to look into her
eyes, replying: Sometime today.
Are you coming back? She asked me this several times.
I was packing my suitcase, sorting the socks and underwear,
avoiding the lie that threatened to escape my lips
Instead I choose to hug her thereby admitting
my guilt in emotional answer.
Do you love me? She asked as I walked with her to the train
What kind of question is that? I shot back then regretted
it instantly as we both knew it was yes, the strategy of pain
I am coming back I said to her there at the door, but I never
did, didn't even know why, her tears on my shirt, the
melancholic moments of her hurt, I am still not sure
what was worse, that I still loved her even when
I stood on the grass watching the hearse take away
all that I thought I had loved into the morning light
as I remembered her last words: Stay with me.
Once.

PADM #6: How Pleasant to know Mr. Van

How pleasant to know Mr. Van,
who has written such posts and blogs
a curmudgeon disguised like a man
he really truly has gone to the dogs.

His mind is precise and sardonic
his nose is sensitively aware.
His vision can be socially hedonic
his beard reminds one of a bear.

He has 2 ears, 2 eyes and 8 fingers
at knitting he is totally thumbs.
Once he was one of the web slingers
now he just searches for crumbs.

He likes to take tea in the coffee bars
some cream and sugar or honey
He avoids staring at the passing cars
but always tips with monopoly money.

He has more friends out there on the net.
Poor Yorick is the name of his cat;
His body is solidly and stoically set
his bathroom has a welcome home mat.

He likes to take long walks out into the night
the children call him Great Uncle Gum
He speaks in riddles with such peevish delight
he loves his wit as a pirate loves his rum.

He cries during particularly bad movie plots
he weeps at show of poor English use
He is completely hopeless when playing slots
he shouts at the inhumanity of the music abuse!

He claims to speak Klingon and computerese
He's cannot abide a two door blue sedan
His googling is exact, he's always ready to please
How pleasant, indeed, to know Mr. Van!

PADM #5: Glasses

World defined by two panes of glass
these are the limits of comprehension
the borders set lines on my ability focal
Everything within is to be considered
from this moment forward to be local.

With them I can paint in finite detail
without them all is Monet blurry splash
the brush strokes of blindness, the words
lost to murmurs and to mumblings,
the canvas a mess of raw feelings, attitudes
midst the distant hints of imagined rumblings

Within the frames that surround my eyes
the understanding that what I have seen
is often compromised by my own point
of view colored by my experience to date
the very definitions that create my life
I should clean them, remove the limitations
of hate.

PADM #4: Mom is the Word

Say haven't you heard
that Mom is the word
it's not all that absurd
it's not a plant or a bird
Mom is what you'd say
since it is afterall her Day.

PADM #3: This is a Wedding

First, there's this wonderful music that you only hear...at weddings.
Second, there's all this clothing, mostly worn once, then everyone is, well shedding.
Thirdly, some songs, a hymn or two, then a solo, a few readings almost always
the same.
This is the mishmash of western traditions we all do- but don't understand, a lot of
trouble so that we can share a name.
The couple say their vows, the priest calls, they respond, the words predetermined-
not much choice.
Then the blessings, the exchanging of rings, symbolic things, the nervous scared 
emotional voice.
A few prayers, one to thank, the other to bless, a moment in time, one more question 
to ask.
Will they make it, are they ready, can two people be able to undertake this formidable 
task?
Let them eat the holy food, let them drink from the sacred cup, seal the whole shebang
with one memorable kiss.
Let them remind the rest of us, that this, this is something none of us should want to miss.
Lastly a triumphant exit march, strolling hand in hand back down the aisle.
Wait, at least a dozen more pictures, everyone together, yes you too Granma, now stand still
and smile.
Then the dance is finished, the ritual performed, time to leave live in style or heart felt denial.