Scene:
Night.
A well lit room in the middle of nothing
or nowhere.
The characters realize this with the panning of the camera
there are no outside lights
but the silhouettes of the trees make faces in the dark frame of the window.
There is music playing in the other room
and the characters sit opposite
setting stage for imagined or realized opposition
as Chopin's (Op.9) Nocturne No. 1 in Bb Minor
plays looming overhead.
Man 1 looks up
and around
the drink in front of him is near empty
crowded by fruit bowls and unopened letters.
Woman 1 breaks expectancies
she is drinkless
there is an equal look of regretful longing on their faces.
Man1 begins dialogue with overtones of seriousness, shame, and hisitance
he looks down on his drink with hollow eyes.
"You know I like you
and I know you like me
so I'm wondering what
well
if maybe I am mistaken"
Woman 1 has a look of confession, confusion, and regret on her face
as man 1 picks up his dark drink and stares at stirring cubes.
Woman 1:
"I did
I do
still
but
so many things go wrong
it would just be simpler if..."
Trailing silence
unnatural silence
builds anticipation and a sense of conflict in the scene.
Begin building music to rouse interest
as the camera pans strait up
over the table
a slow suspenseful back flip
to look at man 1's reaction
upside down at first and slowly twisting right up as he speaks.
Man 1: "definitely..... complicated.... never mind it then"
Man 1 seems unsurprised
the rigidity of his face spells disappointment.
The camera stares at an empty chair as he exits.
Cut scene
scramble flash back
music dies
forward cut
the static moves backward
for the keen eyed audience.
Woman 1 talks about man 2
man 1
to woman 1.
Man 1
(man 2 to woman 1)
grits his teeth
this is a moment of realization
that the previous scene
was always inevitable.
Forward static.
A figure rises shadowy
animation
exaggeration
aggravates
anticipation.
Woman 1 laments failure of man 2
( man 1 to woman 1)
in recognising
previously falsely evaluated
(by woman 1)
to be true
emotions of love.
Pan screen left across scenes to half way point.
50/50.
Stop.
Voice of lamenting Woman.1's narration
and downtrodden face.
Build juxtaposition in right hand frame
between words of woman 1
and color filter memories
fuzzy at the edges where reality meets perception of it.
Pause,
for flashback of man 1's reaction
to being #2
to his # 1.
Pan left full
scrolling past the ensueing mayhem of these twin scenes
to man 1
smoking
out of focus
representation of a loss of clarity.
Monologue ensues.
" I remember the moment when I realized what I was.
When I realized my significance in perspective of what my goals required it to be.
A planet knowing it isn't the sun.
Nothing relies on me
independence is desperate loneliness.
I remember being a substitute
placebo.
Being the settling point
a point of dissatisfaction
and realization
that there is something better.
I remember looking in the mirror and knowing I wasn't good enough
knowing I couldn't be
knowing that the step above me
ignored the role.
I remember being replaced
with nothing.
A step below utter disappointment.
Knowing that's me."
Tighten shot towards mouth
and increase focus.
The moment of clarity is indicated
with rising detail
a sharpness of lines as colors drain from the icy scene.
Dive into the mouth
the mind
of madness.
Darkness
and silence
engulf.
Cut.
farewell
but there is no comfort in that word
farewell is a word that promises
absolutely nothing
you and me
me and you
we are the arrangement of light and dark
the juxtaposition of good and evil
but we both know that those are just the names of two
different sides
did you think i did not have a heart?
all living things have a heart
and the heart of any living thing
can be broken
did you think i did not have a heart?
is it really such a terrible thing
to hope without reason?
or is hope something you might as well do
because it makes no difference to anyone
at all
even you
justification sleeps embracing
our juxtaposition
confusion's schism falls
we love
the distance makes the difference.
staring out the window of a beat-up shack,
moon hear me now
trees look away
cat in the yard please come
bearing gifts.
nothing
nothing
nothing but a hollow existence
and a trail of Bugler smoke rising
over Broadway.
the cat lies down like
all things do, pawing at the
emptiness
like all things do.
our futility
is forever shared,
from the mountains of Tibet
to the cool confines of
the swivel chair.
I'd like to use a pretentious artist word here to say
that I loved the juxtaposition of concrete and brick
buildings with trees grass and water as we walked
through the park on that first Thursday afternoon
Everyone throws a football on their first date right
Only the best people I guess
I love you.
Juxtaposed
Words
And
Feelings
To
Create
Beautiful
Poetry
Treacherously torrid torrential tempestuous
The warrior on the mountain confessed to us
Sordid sully suborn salacious
Only the worst will ever keep pace with us
In extremis extremity exigence exodus
Is the answer clear to all of us
Intuitional intrepid impetus intrigue
Spontaneity's tortoise trauma fatigue
Heuristic horizon hornswoggle huckster
Or just another cauldron muck stir
Mystical magical manumission mandate
That only the good would ever relate date
Fornicating fecund finite's fate
I can only hope it will be I rate
Tirade treatise's transpicuous treachery
Adjunct juxtaposition may get the best of me
Estranged ensemble's ethereal expletive
Won't be contained, like water in a sieve
Wanton wayward warrantee wrangled
And all of that surreal newfangled
Omnipresent omnificent omniscient omnipotence
How I wish I could float its boat sense
Contemplation
What shall I order?
Maybe a vanilla, no a mocha.
What rhymes with mocha?
Do I look as uncomfortable as the others?
People, peace comes from within.
Jitters come from within a coffee shop.
No more caffeine for you people!
Polka - mocha. No.
Chrissy, looks exhausted.
It's probably from pretending she likes everyone.
Tired in a coffee shop?
That must be a paradox or an oxymoron
Or juxtaposition or just real damn funny.
There's a poem in there somewhere.
How about a latte or a mocha cap?
Mocha cap that rhymes like a rap.
Meditation
The poet finds peace and harmony.
"I'll have a light latte."
"Decaf please."
Relaxation
That tastes delicious.
H e l l o p o e t r y
Write poem
Coffee Shop Paradox
Chrissy toiled exha.........
.......................................
She knew, right afterward.
Amazing.
She knew.
I took her word for it.
Oo-Oo-Oocyte!
The largest, roundest cell
Females have. It is
Visible to the eye
Clothed or nakey.
With the largest surface
Volume in relation to
Her cell-fluid-gorged surface.
One is produced ea/month.
One?
Yowza.
Me?
Millions of the little buggers.
Millions! Yeah! THAT’s
The ticket!
And tiny those little tickets are.
Hardly more than a nucleus with
That powerhouse of the cell,
The Mitochondrial outboard motor,
Propelling the tail.
The smallest and straightest
Human cell
(Cool tail, though)
The juxtaposition is kind
Of amazing.
Large vs. small.
Roundest vs. straightest.
Tail-propelled nucleus
Vs.
Moon-shaped cytoplasm.
The opposite, embryologically-
Speaking.
And she was positive,
POSITIVE
We’d conceived.
Roughly 9 months later,
I was there. Physically.
The rest of me was
Possibly sunning in Togo.
Kind of freaked me out,
The birthing process,
The first time.
My son. My baby boy.
Our child.
5/28/91.
I’m more proud and more
Astonished at the man
My little baby has grown into
With each passing day.
Golden child, beginning
Life with blonde hair,
Almost white, darkening
As he grew into the French-
Indian DNA of his
Mom’s side of the family.
He is so much like
His Mother, for which
I’m very happy,
Because his Mother
Is simply amazing
And worthy of an entire
Slew of poems just
To describe her.
And I’ve another
Golden child
Gold blessing vein running
True and deep, different
Than his older brother
Of seven years,
Yet similar, opposite in
Some ways, having grown strong
As the little plaything for
His older brother’s friends,
Making him very tough,
Strong as a team of oxen,
A work ethic he inherited
From Dad, Mom, Brother
Yet fitting together as
Loving siblings can
When they have God
At the center of their lives.
Thank You, God, for
My two sons.
I’m protective, but I know
They do not belong to me.
They are Your blessings
To my wife and me.
They are Your blessings
To this world, set in motion,
Wound up to take what they see
And make it better, and
To prevent it from getting worse.
They will do Your work.
We were the biological
Vessels that delivered
Them from Your world
Before
To this world,
Now.
Milk
Bananas
Apples
Can of baby peas
Pick up on your way home, please.
POET'S TRANSLATION
Milk ~ Drain the marrow of exalted life.
Bananas ~ The juxtaposition of sanity.
Apples ~ The fruit of love and deception.
Baby peas ~ The multitudes of faceless wanderers.
REALITY
Not really! Just my grocery list.
Poets experience serendipity
In the mundane.
