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It’s been a long time since I posted, and I have many things that I’m working on, but nothing current suitable to publish. But going over REALLY OLD files, back in 2007 when I was doing Journal Pages faithfully every day, with not much regard for calligraphy but some for inked color, and I ran across this fable about a meet-cute with a short guitar-playing guy and a really tall girl…

2007 0922

I remember that I was using the finest-point pen I could find–might have been a Rollerball or a Razor–and a set of Faber-Castell ink markers for the color. I also had a thing about presenting the date a different way every day, sort of like Will Eisner did with his SPIRIT logos.

And I remember yearning.

Operations

Of music, sacred smiles, and nagging doubt:
Pitch-perfect was the Evening. And the Girl:
Enchanting, very tall, she was about
Revealing hidden Power. Glide, and Whirl,
Allay the fear a young heart has, of Breaking,
Tend to her own as well. She Bends. They Kiss.
In no time her in height he’s overtaking,
Obverted through the Atmosphere, he’ll miss
Near-Parity. He slides back down to Smaller,
Since their sould need no Height to make them Taller.

A dear and as yet unmet in person friend of mine, Socorro Olsen, created and conducts a poetry group in Facebook. Every Tuesday I contribute a thread called “Title Tuesday.” I offer five titles for fellow poets to hang their poems on. I also invite more titles. Today, this Tuesday, Socorro offered “Boys of Summer.” She thus catalyzed my poem below.

boys of summer

some boys of summer are gloved and batted and capped
on fields of dirt and grass
chasing a hidecovered stitchedup ball
and their gloves and the dirt and the wood of the bats
mix spoors with the sweet smell of cutgrass
and the smell is pure baseball

some boys of summer are after girls
and yet not being dorkily shy
and they sidle and longingly eye
the pretty gigglers
the breathtakingly mousy librarianesques
the stately tall ones the smiley plump ones
and the boys wish for fate to intervene
and get them the hand of a girl to hold
and yet no need on their part
to put their boy-egos on the line
to profess like much less love
the boys dream
though they walk awake

some boys of summer build en garage
some boys of summer hike and camp
some read and read and read
and some alas throw bricks through windows

but
when summer winks out with the equinox
it leaves a little firefly in some of the boys
and some of the girls
and some of the grownups

Image

This post will be a blast and a half from the past. Above is the first blast, intact; the remaining half-blast will come from below, which sounds hellish, though I trust it will only seem hellish to those for whom incompleteness is maddening.

The words to the above are these:

Signore Klein, acquitted in absentia
Significantly troubled w/Dementia
Called 4 his fiddlers 3 and scribing ruler
Consanguinizing Euclid Bach and Euler
Encephalitis roped his oblongati
Ensuring flood of each syn-aptic wadi
Now he’s Semi-Conducting Impresario
Near-virtual-almost-but-for Lothario

To my current shame, at the time I made this I thought Ruler and Euler rhymed. They do not. If I ever do a remake of this page (and there are several reasons to do so. One reason is the right half of the acrostic, Ario, doesn’t “lay down” worth a darn) I’ll have Signore Klein call for, not a scribing ruler, but a  double boiler, or somesuch.

The words of the half-page below follow, Why only a half-page, when I have the page complete? Because the page entire is too big for my scanner, and after I scanned top and bottom as separate files, I loved the “fade to black” aspect of the top half, and realized that leaving something out gave the page a needed visual and cerebral boost. If any reader just can’t stand not knowing how the sonnet (it is a sonnet, an acrostic sonnet, and the acrostic is An Intersection) turns out, I will supply the rest of the words in a subsequent comment. But I invite anyone with a poetic bent to complete the sonnet  her- or himself; perhaps it will be better than what I came up with, which begins

A many of us tend to be half nervous
Near crossing paths with those we hadn’t met.
It’s anxiousy, proximity; a pet
Needs toothsinks–or her lips are ultracurvous–
Then as we reach the overlap of X
Essential tension rises to a spike;
Reactiveness depends on if we like
Such eye contact as is. It’s quite complex…

Image.