____________________________________________________________________
Due to Barbara’s, in my opinion, overwhelming family responsibilities along with the physical distance, to say nothing of our, in my opinion, overwhelming age difference, I know our love can never be more than here, more than now.
I’m an odd duck for a man.
I miss being married.
I miss the warmth of a sleeping woman alongside me.
I do not like coming home to an empty house.
God knows what I would do without, at least, my best friend, my dog to come home to.
I love the emotion of “Chick Flicks” even if, and maybe especially because, occasionally, they cause me to cry.
If I were to say, “Barbara come with me!”
Cyber Affair 14
Day Two - 4
Saturday June 18, 2009
Poetry
As we all must do what our conscience dictates, she would not, nor would I expect or want Barbara to leave her sister and mother nor her other moral responsibilities anymore than Helen, in clear conscience, could throw the drunk out.
Let me say that, due to Barbara’s reluctance to let me see a current picture of herself, I had the feeling that it was due to the fact that she was... Yes, I actually pictured Barbara as obese and when I saw her at the airport yesterday – was it only yesterday – Looking at my watch: 1:53. Not even a day. Further thinking, When I saw her at the airport I though she was attractive, pretty in fact, now... Looking to my right, looking at Barbara in profile...
Sensing my eyes on her, turning her head, “What?” she whispered.
Crooking my forefinger, she brought her ear to my mouth... When I saw her at the airport yesterday, I thought she was attractive, pretty in fact, now...
Whispering in Barbara’s ear, “I think you’re beautiful!”
****
Late afternoon, about thirty-five minutes from calling it for the day...
“Barbara Longford!”
“Oh, God!” she gasped.
Standing to let her pass, “Barbara, you’re beautiful,” I whispered, kissing her cheek. “Go on, baby. You’ll do great!”
Indeed looking beautiful dressed in a youthfully designed, knee length, light tan linen suite, brown blouse and brown and white, two inch heeled shoes, taking my seat again, I watched as she crossed the room to walk the three steps onto the stage.
Nervously attempting to smile, “Good afternoon,” nodding to the audience of her peers.
Now looking at the three judges, “I want to thank you for this opportunity.”
Closing her eyes, collecting herself a moment:
“Can You Hear Me, God?”
Opening her eyes, looking straight forward:
“Good morning, can you hear me, God?
I know you are very busy,
but I was so cold last night and I
want to know if you could send
an angel down to bring me an extra
blanket?”
The modulation of her voice low at first, but now gaining confidence...
“It’s not just for me, I have this
little friend who crawls under my
cover sometimes and he
is so cold too.
I call him Charlie, but
you already knew that
And God, if you know anyone that needs
a little boy, and I’m a good little boy,
please send them to me. I’ve been
waiting so long for a mommy and
a daddy.”
Looking about, I see that most of the audience are sitting a bit straighter in their seats watching, and listening to my Barbara
.
“I wish that I had a real home and a
real family that would love me. I
promise to always be a good boy
and I’ll eat whatever food they give
me and keep my room clean and
take baths when I have to.”
Watching closely, I notice that Barbara’s eyes remain steadily looking outward, towards the audience.
“And God, if you send me a mommy
and a daddy, can you make sure
that they will love Charlie, too? He
is very small, even for a mouse, and
he doesn't eat very much,
but you already knew that.
Thank you, God. I mean, Amen.”
Great! I thought as...
As though afraid clapping for another contestant might diminish audience appreciation for the recital of their own poetry, now came polite clapping, however...
Great! I thought as, clapping loudly, “Yea, Barb!”
Waiting a few seconds for everything to settle down:
“As both poems are on the longer side,” Barbara said, “I’ll only recite two today.”
Closing her eyes once again... now opening her eyes...
“Thirst”
Barbara looked at me, at only me...
“I crawled into an untidy bed,
curled my bare body to his
and lay still
until his breath was
at my back,”
She looked into me...
“a soft tongue cooling
the sunburned skin
on my neck,
my round bottom pushing
closer and closer into the curve
of his body.”
Barbara's eyes saw to my soul, and my tears came...
“Spread fingers walked
the length of me,
chilled skin rising in ovation.”
Our eyes unwavering, her tears coming, hesitating, suppressing a sob...
“His warm hand skimmed
over the curve of my hip
to a waiting well–his fingers
tickled the surface and dipped
long into the warm waters
and he spoke close to my ear
words he had never spoken,
Halting a moment to bring her voice and emotion under control.
“indescribable things
said only between lovers,
and turned my body to his.”
Those about now looking from her to me: sensing our love, feeling the sadness...
“ “Shhh, not a word”, he said,
and took a cool sip
then plunged
the depths of the well
until –
all thirst was quenched.”
Our eyes locked, unashamed, her tears, my tears, our tears ran.
Silence!
Silence...The room silent.
To be continued
©March 17, 2012 / Mark M. Lichterman
Poetry with permission of Elizabeth J. Russo
