I hear the pitter patter,
the incessant tapping,
the rising and falling
of fingertips
emanating
from cubicled walls.

And my mind drifts
to more pleasant times,
to the rhythm of your heart,
so steady,
so alive.
It seems like eons ago
that you rocked my world
with your sweet kisses.

And it's times like these,
times lost to sheer boredom
that I drift,
dream about the moment,
the moment when
our eyes did meet,
locked in each others arms,
counting heartbeats.

Dowson wrote,
"They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream,
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream"

And at this stage of the game,
I think,
I think I believe him,
screaming for more,
more tender-love
& more,
more
euphoric-drink.

She threw up blood and cried out lava.
He poured some salt into her mouth
to heal and seal the open wound.
I sat and watched from far away.

He spilled salt into her mouth,
She crunched and choked but lived
I sat and watched from far away,
not sure if this was love or hate.

She sputtered, gasped and choked but lived,
a puzzled look engulfed his face.
Unsure if this was love or hate,
I bit my lip and sat in silence.

The puzzled look had left his face,
replaced by rising, burning rage.
I bit my lip and sat in silence.
I was the only one who could save her.

Blind with burning rage for him,
I couldn’t heal or seal the wound.
With no one left to save her life,
She threw up blood and cried out lava.

Cowboys and sidekicks,
were not the only heroes
We idolized, and ran to see
at those "Saturday picture shows."

There was "Superman, and "Batman",
and that magic word, "SHAZAM."
The "cliff-hanger" serials
we hoped would never end.

There were all types of villains-
even "space invaders"-
It was then, that I changed my mind-
to become, a "Caped Crusader."

As those Saturdays passed by-
how I wished that I could fly-
And all I needed was a cape
to soar throughout the sky.

I grabbed a towel, to make a cape,
the largest towel that I could find-
And I didn't tell anyone
what was really on my mind.

I went thru the kitchen
out the door, into the yard-
Mom thought I went out to play,
so I caught her off her guard.

A couple of the neighbor kids,
I now call my "entourage"
gathered with excitement
as I climbed, to the top of the garage.

I stood there with my legs apart-
I could feel the pulsing of my heart-
hands, braced against my hips-
then, the tightening of my lips-

I knew that somewhere in the city-
Crime was out there brewing-
and then I heard my mother's voice-
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!!!

Well, I tell you folks, there's not a tone
   that can evoke such heightened fear-
And the superpowers I thought I had,
   suddenly disappeared(as did the other kids)

There was screaming, and yelling-
and amidst the clamor and the din-
Neighbors, looking out their windows-
saying, "it's just that kid again."

I didn't know what she was saying-
but I'll never forget that frown,
And her words  got a little worse
when she had to help me down

Banished to the bedroom-
on my bed, with the cape that I had wore-
Contemplating what dreadful fate
my future had in store.

I heard the doorknob turning-
then dad stepped thru the door
He knew I had been crying
as my head hung toward the floor.

What I thought would happen, didn't-
as he sat down on the bed-
then with his hand he gently brushed,
the top of my head.

He explained to me the difference
of what was real, and fantasy-
That those movies are adventures,
not real, just fun to go and see.

Here I am, seventy-two and still alive-
and sometimes I wonder
how I've managed to survive

On my mantle are two pictures
that make me happy, and make me sad-
for those real superheroes-
They're my mother, and my dad.

copyright: richard riddle, August 05, 2014