Haiku #Connecticut

Bumblebee buzzing,
Friendless stranger in the rain,
No nectar to eat.

Missing You Is Like

Missing you is like
Wanting chocolate chip cookies but making oatmeal instead,
It’s like going to bed promptly at 10 but not falling asleep until 4AM,
It’s poking at a tooth to make sure the ache’s still there,
It’s trying to mate your stallion but both of them’s a mare.

[Let’s get this straight – it’s not the regular sex that’s gone.
Okay, some of it’s the regular sex that’s gone.
Fine. The premium sex with a sexologist is sorely missed, yes.]

But more it’s the nearness,
The spent feeling lying next to someone after the energy exchange of two tempests that twirled into each other.

But each arching article,
Every unintentional act of avarice an obstacle,
Stands as a barrier between us,
A Great Wall of my mistrust of you,
Globetrotting temptress desired by many,
Had, because you felt like it, your own psyche daring you.

And you, you gave me more than you should of,
Perhaps more than you knew you had.

Still not enough for me,
I just wanted your word to mean something,
Not concrete, but not made of putty neither
You said you were trying but I just can’t believe you.

Gratitude: Part 25

Yesterday I was grateful for:

Lonely

This play was inspired by a friend’s recent foray into the realm on online dating and his eventual introduction and brief conversation with a chatbot. The question of what makes something human has been bandied about by philosophers great and small and is not one that I necessarily sought to answer with this piece. I just tried to entertain myself.

Aware that it might be difficult to come up with responses for an artificial intelligence, I sought the assistance of Cleverbot, which was greatly informative and from whom some responses were inserted into the mouth of my automaton: Sheila.

Lonely is the meeting of Melvin and said automaton, in a random scenario, wherein Melvin has to leave for a meeting. Only through conversation does he realize that the woman he is talking to is artificial in origin, but at that point is it too late? Somewhat creepy, borrowing elements from Blade Runner as well as Fatal Attraction, this comedic sci-fi tale should hopefully scintillate both the brain and the more naughty senses. Enjoy!

What’s Your Name – Oakland Workshop Writing Prompt

Am Yisrael Chai, Am Yisrael Chai,
Am Yisrael, Am Yisrael, Am Yisrael Chai:

Born of the north of the land of milk and honey to parents of other native tongues who
Tasted the tones of Semitic proverbs that rolled on the winds of two millenia of Diaspora and now it sweetens their saliva, khalav v’dvash, and pass it in a name to their son.

My father holds me, his third boy, my mother’s first, eight days after birth – the brit melah.
This name hovers over the synagogue, not yet announced, but it seeps through the ceiling and out the hearts of the congregation, an ancient promise:

Microbes by Weight

No silver but the sunlight lends reflection in the window just the same as a polished mirror,
Perhaps slightly less opaque, giving Gregory the ghostly form he thought he had:

A mess of orange hair, cut poorly, on his head,
His antique eyes (they had also belonged to his grandfather) hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses,
Freckles flecking his face and a crooked smile hiding behind all-too-thin lips,
Rounded hips that gave him a funny gait
And a sense of style that was virtually non-existent.