Part One [WT the First]

Thursday, 8•28•08 [Harrison
Bergeron Reactions]
The cover invites me with
Its intriguing blackness
And I open to the first
Page to find myself at the
End of the eighth. I trans-
Port myself back to that
Time.

Such a time was
Filled to the brim and
In danger of overflowing
With ambiguity. I had
Used many staples to try
And cover up what my
Mind was really thinking.

My lines are faded gray
Pencil marks; this was
Before the introduction to
Pen and ink, I presume.
I try not to complete my
Still unfinished thoughts;
I must preserve them and
Everything in here as it is
And how it was.

Tuesday, 9•2•08 [The
Greek City-States]
The next is marked by
Purple ink wings that fly
Among the numerous
Question marks and
Countless “why?”s.
There are few “OK”s and
My lip begins to tremble.

I wish I could have treated
It more like a journal and
Opened my mind up to you
Earlier on, but my words
Still seemed unclear back then.

Monday, 9•8•08 [Loop Writing-
Glory & Honor]
So what? Just because
That’s what you wrote
Doesn’t mean that
Is how you still think! I
Really don’t want the
Glory, all I want you to
Write is “good!” with that
Adorable open “g” of yours.

[Wars and Empires; CN]
I’ve forgotten one too many
Finishing touches and search
For my “summary?” on each
Of the purple-inked pages.

Thursday, 9•11•08 [Who Was
The Hero? Odysseus!]
What makes him a hero?
Because he’s mine and
That’s quite enough of that!

This page now reveals
Something quite peculiar.
Is it a bean? No, a symbol
Of some sort… but, of
What? I’ve lost my current
State of mind in these words;
I’m not sure I’ll be able to
Live in the boring present
When the past is just so
Inviting!

Monday, 9•15•08 [War in
Beauty. Beauty in War?]
Negotiation would
Have been nice, if I wasn’t
Forced to share. A mental
Thumbs up from you is
Just one mark less than
Normal, and that’s just
As fine as a “B” in my book.
Friday, 9•26•08 [Rubric]
Yes, I know of my
Incomplete notes, but I’m
Not sure how to tend to
Your wanted consistency.

Tuesday, 10•21•08 [Beowulf]
Towards the last of the tenth,
I do recall the currency
Exchange. I’d somehow forgotten
The right payment date and
Therefore brought unwanted
Attention to myself. Unintentionally,
Well… maybe not.

Monday, 11•17•08 [The Black Death]
My mind is double stamped
By you and my angry handwriting
Cannot be soothed by the appearance
Of your initials on my paper.
But suddenly, this is the
First, the only time that
I can mark this and seal
It with a kiss; one for each.

Oh! I’ve accidentally smudged
One, could that have been
A sign? A symbol of the death
And rebirthing of a new era?

Monday, 11•24•08 [Poetry]
One year from that last Tues-
Day marked my resurrection.
Poetry was spoken by you and
For the first time, it opened
Me up. I was really and truly
Listening to what you were
Saying and chanting to me.
You spoke of the importance,
Or lack thereof in rhyme,
Scheme and metaphor. And
Just to prove that we were
Listening to the sounds of
The chair
Hair
There
She sat beneath the shade of
The tree
Thee
See
Tea
And covered it up with
The hat
Cat
Gnat
Sat
And I received the same look
As everyone else while my mind
Was working overtime, and
By processing this different
Sound, I began the construction
Of my first work of art.

You’ll probably never know that
You were, are and will be
Forever my muse, but maybe
You’ll begin to see the pattern.
It shouldn’t take a genius to
Crack the code. I can match
Words with two lines now,
And it’s all thanks to you.

[Metaphors and Similes]
A good book tastes like an
Apple, both of which I’ve
Come to adore. Now you
Show me what you love and
Made life, our connection
More personal. A song, I
Used to say, sounds like a
Foreign language, but I know
Now that it’s not. No, a song
Sounds like a shared history,
A shared suffering of two
Beings separated for so long a
Time and then united by
A mutual cause; like two
Unlike nouns morphed
Together to form a metaphor.
The more uncommon, the
Better, you said.
To me and you, some-
Thing is always something
Else and we can never
Get down to the nit and grit
Of the truth. I’ve never valued
Education and intelligence
More in my life; I can now
Live in moderation and with
A sense of balance. You’re
Quite well-rounded and even
Though I regret the double
Meaning here, you know that
It used to be true.

Tuesday, 11•25•08 [Rhyme]
Your sweater is the
Color of… but, what
Rhymes with pumpkin pie?
I know the color, the shade is
Unforgettable. But, no, it
Can’t be, but you said it:
“The Catcher in the Rye!” Too
Bad you haven’t assigned/
Ordered me to read it yet. I
Think I may have to fall in
Love with your holiday-
Themed, creative writing
Exercises; they make the
Idea of what’s to come so
Much sweeter. You know
That extended break is
Heaven and the constant
Tapping of your foot shows
Your restlessness. I’ll try
To send the message in some
Way soon, maybe a little
Song writing will ignite
Some flame. I promised that
I wouldn’t CAPITALIZE,
Bold, or italicize my
Words for emphasis, but I’ve
Given up on any other way
To get my feelings across
The page. Where there are
Ends, there’s always room for
A new, promising beginning.

Part Two [WT the Second]

Wednesday, 12•3•08 [Twelfth
Night: Why does Olivia fall in
Love with Cesario?]
It’s time to break out the
Purple, my friend. The colored
Stickers mark the beginning
Of my journey on the twelfth
Night without you. Where do I
See this? Well, it’s all around
Me! I don’t want to overanalyze
Every word of the text; I must
Quote it to develop my broken
Ideas.

I’ve been ordered to find,
No, search endlessly for any
Hints of relationships or any
Other lovely themes. I’ll only
Look for you.

Tuesday, 12•9•08 [Theatrical Satire]
The ninth of the twelfth was
The unspoken of celebration.
How could you not announce
Your thirty-ninth?!?! Are you still
Ashamed of your age and
Your loneliness? Never mind
The dramatic irony; I know
Something that they don’t
And all of my details are
Now due to you.

Thursday, 12•11•08 [The
Catholic Reform]
I now see a new exclamation,
“Great!” scrawled across my
Paper and I smile at the layering of
Your kind words. Improvement
Is all I can think of; you’ve
Been saying sweet things now
All of the time, so what is the
Hidden meaning behind it all?
Could it somehow be connected
To your spirituality? We had
No idea back then, though it
Could’ve been somewhat relevant.

Monday, 12•15•08 [Catholic
Church: Reformation Response]
The appearance of silverware
Brings me into the bottomless
Pit filled with nostalgia. I
Can never leave this place now.
Is this happening here? Really,
All I wanted to do was gain
Some more inspiration!

Tuesday, 12•16•08 [Greatness]
That one rose next to your
Initials is a signal… or is this me
Overanalyzing again? What
Else can I do to ease this pain?
Those two letters have been
Carved in forever. Where, you
Might ask? Everywhere, I
Might answer. But in reality,
I’ve only inked them on my
Hand, the soft part of my palm
Is permanently scarred by
Those lines and curves. I shall
Kiss the letters once again
To apologize for the pain
They have caused me.

Monday, 1•5•09 [A Man For
All Seasons]
I then stumble upon a perspective
Drawing in boredom. I’m sure
You weren’t impressed in the
Least by it. You’ve never
Stopped asking me: what is
Beauty? It hides everywhere
And without writing you a
Novel, I could never explain it.

But, how can this conflict
Emerge between those two
Letters? What is the significance
Of the three that keep them
Apart?

Tuesday, 1•27•09 [Exploration
& Expansion]
I then go on a mission.
This resignation from life
Has love involved, but it’s
Not relevant to what you
Want to hear.

Tuesday, 2•3•09 [Loop Writing-
Knowledge]
What an art! They excite
And depress me at the same
Time. To have knowledge
Is to seek it; I’ve not quite
Grasped its power yet, but
I do remember the raising
Of my hand and arm; the
Left set, of course. And I
Recall you naming me and
The way I spoke. I had to
Repeat myself so that
You could clarify your shock.
So, art, to you, is provocative?
That’s quite a new take on
Things! I’m just glad that
You could find something to
Smile about. Yes, that cracked,
Crooked smile of yours that we
All adore. That was the first
Of many I provoked from you
And it took until the second
To accomplish it.

[The Scientific Revolution]
I wanted to begin a revolution
With letters; have us write to
Each other in secret. But you’d
Never fall for that; too smart,
Too dedicated, and, dare I say,
Too old? After forty, you become
Less open to the world around
You; but how could that happen
To you? Of all people? No,
Don’t go there.

Tuesday, 2•10•09 [Enlightenment
Of Philosophers]
Two and ten mark when you
Grew proud of us, when you
Went back to your colleagues
And chuckled at our genius.

Wednesday, 2•11•09 [Most
Striking? Why?] to Thursday,
2•12•09 [Analyzing Quotes]
The second formation of
Stamped silverware appears and
I’ve learned not to trust reality
By analysis.

Monday, 2•23•09 [10 Pairings;
Epoch of Recalling Forth to Life]
My feeling had been growing
By the end of the second and
The bright colors highlighted the
Blooming of love.

Tuesday, 3•10•09 [The French
Revolution; CN]
“Good!” again, with blue, red
And violet along with a few
Checkmarks brings me back
To the rut.

Wednesday, 3•11•09? [The
French Republic; NC]
Gack!
The sound of interpretation such
As saying, “Did we go too
Far this time?” What a mess
Of non-dated items! I cannot,
For the life of me, figure out
When this was written.

Tuesday, 4•14•09 [Comparing
Russia to France]
Three days after my day of birth, I
Asked for an additional stamp
For my collection even though
The wretched words had
Already been printed. You
Replied, “of course!” and sent
Me on my merry way, completely
Oblivious to the reason why.

Wednesday, 4•15•09 [The
Russian Revolution; P&N]
I’ve decided to smother your
Initials, they’re just so beautiful
And they, somehow, complete
Me. I’m dependent on them
As they occur two more times
In a row.

Friday, 4•17•09 [Talking ‘Bout
A Revolution; Poetry]
I have plans to impress you with
My newfound talent that you’ve
Already heard twice. You were
The one who provoked every
Ounce of inspiration in me
And your notes flutter around mine;
Your words are mine now.

Tuesday, 4•21•09 [Hope Against Hope]
A new stamp marks an old
Celebration too late and by the
End of the fourth, I’ve slightly
Revealed to others what my
Secret really is. I’ve yet to pour
Out my devotion, but that
Can wait until the perfect
And most vulnerable moment.

Tuesday, 4•28•09 [What Strikes You?]
Such an angry stamp, now! Does
It reflect your mood? Do the
Jumbled numbers confuse and
Clarify your emotions at the
Same time that they do for me?
No, yes? I’ve gained no such
Suspicion from you and I
Suppose that’s all right.

Thursday, 4•30•09 [A New Kind
Of War with a Poem in the Pocket]
Then what’s the meaning of this
Upside down tiger? Ah, yes, I
Tried and succeeded to get
Both again! What a miraculous
Ending with the appearance
Of poetry within a pocket and
The mark of a new era of utter
Obsession and infatuation with
The wonders of articulate words.

Part Three [WT the Third]

Monday, 5•4•09 [War Then and Then]
My face is now covered in a
Bleak navy blue and my first
Six pages have been ripped out.
I remember your frustration
With them while I was a
Perfect angel and by the start
Of the fifth, it began to be
Nearly final, nearly the end, but
I was prepared, so… ha!

Tuesday, 5•12•09 [Troubled Infancy
And Post-War Chaos]
There sits a smile stamp for
Something new and promising,
And another “B,” but with
A different and better meaning
This time. Document three has
Pages and pages on end of the
Great and powerfulness of my
Two-month overachievement.
I’ve learned tactics for study,
Writing and what is and
Isn’t debatable. I’ve learned
So much that my head has
Been stuffed to capacity and
I know that I definitely
Cannot lose any of it.

Thursday, 5•21•09 [Blockade]
To Tuesday, 5•26•09 [Propaganda]
This is far less than total war. I
Can hear the sanitary language
You often speak and I’m brought
Back to when you were breathing
Heavily down my neck and back
While looking over my shoulder
In wonder. Yes, it’s a reflection
Of my universe of obligation; it’s
Already been done. And over-
Done. It’s all been burnt to
Propaganda now; everyone has
Spread the word drenched in
Negativity that your creation
Will soon die off. Its victims
Need empathy and freedom.
They would greatly benefit
From a choice, a choice of death.

Thursday, 5•28•09 [Bystanders
And Rescuers – Protest]
The Last Poem’s day of birth
And death was marked by an
Imperfect star, oh, the many and
Endless meanings of it! Though,
Again, previously contemplated
And certainly unnecessary to
Flesh out. I have no faith in
My humanity anymore since
I know that knowledge is closely
Followed by responsibility as
It tags along, jogging behind
To keep up.

Wednesday, 6•3•09 [Hitler’s Canary]
And to give the feeling of the
End; a punch in the nose, the
Last occurrence of the silverware
Fades away now into the pages
That soak up the lost meaning of
The ink.

[Epigraph]
I didn’t even get half-way
Through it; stopped short by
The flood of faked goodbyes.
I feel unfinished in thought
And now, again, I’m back to
Where I started.

I’m still lost in the past, in
Nostalgia, in grief of how lovely
Things used to be. But I suppose
I really should leave the rest of the
Pages blank. That’s how they
Should be. And they always
Will remain in the hole of
My heart; storage for my
Past life in overview.