the green bike girl
[from a second wave – poetry]
the green bicycle flashed by
and i caught a glimpse of tan smooth legs
and white sneakers pumping away
as she swerved into traffic
away from me
it was enough to make me want to follow
to turn into the incoming traffic
i have a thing for cute legs
i guess
or cute women
or… something more insidious
just “cute”
the rest of the story is made up in my head
she
the she i see
has little to do with the woman riding the bike
her choice of shampoo
or what color the sheets are on her bed
are all part of my imagination
long after the flash of desire
the brilliant green outline of her bike
the contrast of her strong legs and bright shoes
and the flash inside my brain
a synapse that fires with regular abandon
nothing to be done about it
but say “ah yes” a pretty woman
a pretty young girl on a bike
and this amazingly hungry heart of mine
and head full of poetic imaginings
some might call it obsessive or compulsive
but i prefer artistic
romantic
prolific
these words that frame my desire
in something other than reality
because how much of what we fall in love with
is reality?
are we in love with the chores and mundane beats of life
do we thrive at our desks
far away from the objects of our affection
without the poetic mind
my life would be quite boring
i would be afraid more often than i am
i would love less deeply
i would stay on the surface when my heart says dive
i would never see more than the flash of leg
and the turning away of a young soul
but i see more
i love more
i derive pleasure from things that are not real
ideas that are never expressed
loves that are never culminated
and it’s okay
it’s how i want to be
i want her too
but she’s not here anymore
and until then
sometimes a green bike
holds a key to unlock
hopefulness
in beauty
and time
and
most importantly
love
again
6-12-14
image: schwinn racer, richard masoner, creative commons usage
no longer feel her
[from a second wave – poetry]
in the moment i could no longer feel or smell her
but her glow was still around me
though her breasts and mind were elsewhere
she was all i could think about
it’s not healthy, i know
it’s not obsession either
it’s…
well, love is a pretty strong word
lust?
i don’t think i know what any of that means anymore
oh, i know the energy she gives
i know the pleasure
and the secrets
i can’t wait any longer
and yet
waiting is the name of the game
it can’t be all the time
balls to the wall
all in
all all all
it’s just now
it
is
her
5/3/14
image: touch, bhumica bhatia, creative commons usage
rushing into
[from a second wave – poetry]
don’t you want to go with me
fall off the cliff
slip your disco
feel that rush of new love
don’t you want to go with me
is there something else
that you’ve just got to do
instead of falling in love
is there something more critical
to your life at this juncture
don’t you want to go with me
what can i do to give you this thrill
there’s nothing like it
we’ve been given more chances
to feel and feel and feel again
to free fall back into the arms
to risk everything
and nothing
don’t you want to go with me
slip into something more comfortable
find happy
and the simple touch of kisses
not demanding, not asking
just planted on your neck
i guess i’ve kind of got my bags packed
i’m thinking i’m ready
i’ve really got no clue
this second rushes by
and i’ll try and say the comforting thing
as i reach for your hand
to jump
don’t you want to come
5-26-14
image: JUMP!, creative commons usage
slight
[from a second wave – poetry]
slight women breed slight kids
slight minds are not boyed by ample bossoms or taught waists
we know the physical is what ages and dies
the spiritual is what aspires and prays
the mental overthinks and dreams
while the creative gives
and releases
all available light
how did we learn to crave the gaunt as beautiful
what advertiser spun us towards the promise of some ideal
to make us younger and more desireable
some imagined empowerment masking the sleep
the lie
the dream of something other than what we are
some car that brings you speed but cannot make light-speed
a goal that empties your soul to fill your coffers is no future
there is no vacation from this life
it is all vacation, it is always now
how is your future driving your present
are you navigating or giving in to the pull
the downward spiral of entropy and ambition
eventually we all get the same closure
it will not happen in hawaii with your new wife
it may happen in your sleep tonight
and what you have left is what you leave behind
the bills, the chores, the toil adds up to zero
the toys, the hours, the anger and escape plans
all equal in this final empowerment
now
time to go
time to wake up
5-18-14
< back to poetry section
image: slim fit, md saad andalib, creative commons usage
symphony and storm
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
in symphony and storm
i lean into the idea you leave inside me
in crash and fire
song and string
i can only imagine your caress here and now
in the flashing dark
i would swallow you whole
if there were a way to take you
with me
to satisfy the hunger for your skin
and smile
and laughter
it is easier in this moment
to point out what won’t work
than to hope towards the fit we crave
the exposed heart
opened again
vulnerable
but the trembling drums
and flashes of brilliance
illuminate just an outline
of what is possible
of how you felt
of what i can remember
we could try and pretend
that our souls weren’t seeking connection
we can say we’re complete, alone
but we can’t deny the fireworks
and the warmth that caught our minds
when we met
when across the room
our two broken spirits
recognized a kindred ache
it might be easier to listen
to the no
the reasons for avoiding the flame
and the fearful counsel of the firefighters
and weathermen
predicting more storms ahead
but under the rumble i hear the timpani
in the shuddering booms i know the melody
and in your arms
i’ve held one more cello
tight and warm
to my chest
and listened
to your breathing
seeking echoes
or rests
in this night of symphony and storm
i hold a projection of you
who i imagine you to be
who i hoped for in previous attempts
at writing the masterpiece
today i have a few notes
some scribbled maps, burned at the edges
and a hope
5-13-14
image: cello bridge, andrew sutherland ,creative commons usage
the song i sing
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
i can see the song i sing because you are in my life
i follow the horizon and know we will get there
here in this moment, i can be safe, home, loved
here in this moment, my expectations can take a rest
even in your absence i feel nourished
held in a warm pocket
and in awe of this feeling you have reminded me of
an energy so pure and addictive
that we have to measure it out
pace ourselves
relax
no hurry, my dear
the world awaits
and it never rests
but in your arms
i can put it off
for the afternoon
5-8-14
image: notes of a rock song, Bùi LInh Ngân, creative commons usage
i knew
[from The Black Pages – poetry]
one night, I was confused
i had a moment when
i thought that you were leaving
imagined you were gone
and when I felt afraid
i told you how i loved you
you looked at me so strange
that’s when I knew,
i knew
that is was true
that you were already gone
that it was you
and you were already gone
so now I count my blessings
i wonder what it’s for
so many broken angels
and other closing doors
but i knew
that is was true
that you were already gone
that it was you
and you were already gone
any time you looked distant
were you thinking of the other side
and the moment you decided
to change both our lives…
there’s no repair between us
there’s nothing left to fight
i’ve fallen in the darkness
and you’ve left in the night
and i knew
4-28-14
image: goodbye for awhile, Merra Marie, creative commons usage
awaiting (a poem)
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
i have waited for her for so long
i am beginning to make up stories
tell myself lies
that when she arrives
i will be sure to wipe clean the slate
there are no known roads ahead
we have never been here before
and have no maps for what’s next
best to stay in the touch and now
in the shine and slick of skin
and not let our hearts get ahead
of what we cannot comprehend
nor predict
4-17-14
image: atlanic ave, peter burge, creative commons usage
all the way
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
i can see her before me now
like an ocean of yes
all, all the way
i can see all the ways
that she fits me now
all the ways that she gets me now
all the ways
all, all the way
finding hope – finding home
finding hope – finding home
in you
everyday she surrounds me now
she awakens me, she’s awake
she gives to me, sometimes everyday
every single way, yeah she gives
and if ever i forget
she’s got a way to bring me back
when i’m alone
when i’m wandering in the dark
she doesn’t let me go alone
she brings me home
all the way – she feels deeply now
and she knows, she just knows
we can play, we can withstand this joy
every single day, every day, along the way
12-9-13
it’s just desire
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
this cloud this haze this drugged moment
as if the dark air of loneliness
was escaping with a hiss
around the edges of my heart
breaking the fourth wall of reason
for something more dangerous
intoxicating
deep
pulling
an ache
that before was theory
that before involved maps and strategies
there is no strategy for this feeling
no point in burning maps
they are all you know of the shore
the stars above twinkle
as the path winds into darker nights
knowing now what was missing
how
when
and if
aiming away from solitude
towards some idea
of risk and feeling
where the wild things are
what hungers
and leaps
in the spaces between touch
and touching
and anticipation of touch
wrestling to pull back the sail
before capsizing the journey
diving into a course
before the destination is shared
it is delirious and delicious
this ambrosia of moments
dreaming you into being
even as your strong signals
say yes
say slow
say hello
a part of our souls
have set sail
even in this imaginary boat together
we’re calling out subtle directions
affirming the small lines we have begun to trace
in the flickering light
of the map room
11-19-13
ember
[from a coffee love letter – poetry]
i want to see what you see
when the joy lights up your eyes
i want to know that it was me
who caused this wonderous moment
i want to feel how your skin
goes from chilled to flaming
i want to break off a piece
of this fire i know of
and place it inside you
so you too are warm
as we part for days
i want the glow to remain
so you know
i am still
beside
you
11-14-13
no longer vivid
[from a coffee love letter – poetry]
if i had her breast for a pillow
i would never get out of bed
if her hair were in my eyes
i’d cry and arc with joy
if some sound was still in my ears
from her joyous moans
i would remember to not be lonely
but the images are no longer vivid
the ache now from emptiness
rather than friction and fire
11-10-13
piano lessons and a show
[from a coffee love letter – poetry]
as she looked back over her shoulder at me
beneath the black as night locks unruly
emotions ran high within me
she was ordering coffee
i was a chair
she was perfect as she looked up at the board
contemplating mixture and alchemy
i couldn’t hear what she asked for
i couldn’t think straight
it’s this way a lot
but did hear her laugh as she dropped change
into the barista’s glass jar
the wispy blonde with strong arms
and ink stripes
ready to rev up whatever you ask for
from the board
and she smiled at me and was gone
this is how it goes in my private peep show
behind this screen
in deep and lustful thoughts
or really more about the idea of dark thoughts
these are just words
she is just a girl
who ordered coffee
while i was waiting for my daughter
to finish piano lessons
11-7-13
the absence
[from The Black Pages – poetry]
any known answer or explanation would be wrong
there may be nothing to understand
only feel
as i feel the absence
ache and weight of the missing
part of me
of my heart gone south
away from the path and plan
away from this was that is no more
the clear cold sky is cheerless
and haunting old seasons
of wrapt and attentive snuggles
that became a dull chill ache
rather than a call to blankets
and wrestling
and your smile
i can not ever release it
for me
everything came from there
like a light
your heart
now taken from view
closed up and buried
and this missing feeling
of winter
approaching yet again
with shelter
but no
comfort
11-7-13
image: courtesy of david jewell – model: katherine casey
outside edges
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
i walk the outside edges tonight
seeking a warmth
stars are hidden by smoke or clouds
with the hazy coming of winter here
and you have still not arrived
though my prayers are swift
true and pure
it is me that still needs tending
in the burning desire
that turns in on itself
11-6-13
image: creative commons usage – lite-bright art
The Taste of Tail Feathers Again – The Online Dating Breakdown
Oh online dating, I hate you.
I’m not sure if I have an accurate picture of myself or my desired match. I mean, most times I think I have a pretty good handle on it. And then someone comes along and resets the markers and my own understanding has to be reevaluated. But I am learning, I think. Let’s recount a recent “Oh yeah” for me that seemingly has become a near miss.
First me. Let’s see. I think I’ve set out my parameters pretty well. And the fact that she connected with me through my other 100% positive parenting blog, and through my post on what a single dad wants in his next relationship, well, let’s just say my best foot was forward on the mechanics of dating. (But I still have really had only one post-divorce experience, so far, so I realize I don’t have all that much actual information.)
And after she requested a “friend” on Facebook, citing mutual friends (25) and at least something that she must’ve seen in my public profile, we jumped into a fun banter. So she wrote a nice, “Hey we should be friends since we’re…” And it was a wonderful jolt to wake up on Dia de Los Muertos with a very attractive princess (Halloween costume) saying she’d read my single-dad post and wanted to be friends.
Of course, I accepted the friend request. And then the romantic madness ensued. (Mostly driven by me, but that’s okay, writing is what I do.)
Letting the banter run wild we chatted on FB over the course of the entire day. And things, on my end, could not have gone better. The more we chatted the more we seemed to have things in common. A quick wit and quick qwerty-fingers. It was a thrill. Like a first date. Almost. From her side, she said very encouraging things. And at one point asked, “Even if we hate each other once we meet, can we still be friends on Facebook, I would hate to lose this banter.”
She got it. But… She was also getting it. Somewhere along this path, I was letting my heart get involved. Even knowing the romance was pure fantasy, what a thrill to find a mutual attraction of the minds that seemed to expand and continue over the course of an entire day. And even after negotiating a Saturday afternoon meetup, I was hungry for her. Uh oh.
But I have learned a bit about this before. So I did my thing. I read. Wrote. And social media-ed. And since I had my kids that night, I didn’t have too much time to dig into her profile before taking my kids to breakfast in the morning and delivering them to their mom’s house and it was off to the “coffee date,” meet up, first face-to-face encounter. I kept my calm about me. Sat by the front of the cool coffee shop and waited.
Now, here’s where I’m going to reveal some of my vulnerabilities. She came in and said “Hi.” We did a simple hug. And she was going to order something to drink. In that first few moments, watching her at the counter ordering coffee, I observed myself taking her all in. Jeans and comfy shoes, very nice lines, well within my happy zone. I was struck by how easily I qualified her by her appearance. I liked the look of her right away.
And when she came to the table, and we chatted for two hours, I was no less intrigued and fascinated. Again I was trying to observe my reactions in a more objective way. She had amazing eyes of blue, something I noticed immediately in her photographs. And a wicked smile, that I kept sort of staring at, imagining, going there. (Oops.) And her shirt and the shape of her neck as it entered the simple thermal shirt. Yep, my brain said, she’s in.
And while I was trying to show my most charming side, I’m not sure I was getting the pickup or resonance I was hoping for. I am still not sure, but I could almost feel her first scan when I stood up to greet her. Again, I’m making this up, but I felt like she took me in from running shoes to shorts, to black t-shirt and then to my smile, all in the course of 30 seconds. And maybe that was all it took, maybe she was/is playing demure. But here’s what happened next…
We headed out to the cars, saying goodbye and such. And rather than the “what’s next” vibe, I got, “Well, I’d like to hear your song, sometime.”
It wasn’t the BINGO I was hoping for. And I am certain I was aglow. In reviewing my own behavior and expectations, I was at the top of my form. Maybe my form didn’t meet her expectations or projections from our Facebook romance. Maybe it’s as simple as that.
All systems go, all hearts and minds engaged, and you meet and nothing. (groan)
But, playing it cool, I wanted to make sure I was not over-thinking. I didn’t really have a roadmap for what it would look like if she were 100% aflame as well. But that’s what I was hoping for. I don’t think that’s what happened.
A couple of hours later I pinged her on Facebook just checking in.
“Just let me know, and do you want to get together tomorrow sometime?”
Her response took 3 hours and it was kind of obtuse. As if she didn’t understand what I was saying. A very different voice from the engaging romantic she had cooked up in my mind during our first 24-hours as FB friends. Okay, no worries, perhaps she’s being conservative. Perhaps she doesn’t know what to expect either.
I switched gears in my response the next day. “So do you get your son today or tomorrow?”
And this response was even more off. “Tomorrow, but I’m going to rest today.”
And this time, for the sake of clarity and brevity I went direct. “So… That’s kinda “meh”. Am I getting that right?”
She seemed to misunderstand. “Meh?”
“I was trying to get a read on if you were interested in getting together again. Perhaps I’m being dense. I enjoyed your company yesterday and would like to see you again if desire and time allows. No hurry.”
And here’s where the mystery begins and ends. “I would definitely really love to be friends and then see what goes from there.”
And I dropped the thread with an affirmation of this sentiment. But that’s not what I was looking for. The responses had become hours in return. When we were flirting the responses were fast and flighty. So…
I think the message was clear. At some very early moment in our meeting, I did not meet some parameter of hers. All that built up energy and romantic charge didn’t offset or live up to whatever she had hoped I would look like.
I went to the well on this one and asked GF #1 about it.
“So, in this current situation… I simply wait it out, right? Any signal from me would be over-reaching? Seems to weird not to say “hello” today, but I think she needs to feel like she’s in control. She initially reached out to me. If she was “meh” then she won’t. If she was “maybe” then she will. But I think I have responded to her favorable statement, and now I drop the line and let her run until she realizes she’s missing me in the same way she was missing someone before I ever showed up. Is that right? Would you feel pressured if your spark followed up too quickly?”
GF #1 said that her gut-read was cautious rather than “friend zone” but she liked the idea of letting her line run.
So that’s where I am. I’ll invite her to coffee today.
What I learned.
- I am a powerful romantic and do enjoy the flight of romance that can happen via online connections.
- I have pretty distinct evaluation criteria that can only be decided in-person.
- Too much pre-roll romance wastes a lot of energy if there’s not a match.
- My disappointment at feeling the match and not having it reciprocated, is still hard.
- Less fantasy, less striving, more walking and playing music.
- Move along.
Update: After finishing a nice long walk I had a few additional observations on my most recent fishing expedition. I got some jazz from the connection, generated two poems from it, and got to feel my heart get all big again. Nice. I also got a bit of a hangover when the resonance did not match what I was hoping for. And now… I’m waiting for her FB response? Um, no. That’s the miss. While I did offer coffee today, my guess is her response will be lukewarm. And unless I press the date, it probably won’t happen. Sad, but true. A waste of energy? Not really. A new learning? In theory, but we’ll see the next time a princess shows up at my door. Moving forward, onward, and upward. You’ve got to turn over a lot of rocks to find the diamond, I guess. And of the three YES-vibes, I got upon meeting a first date, this was the furthest I’d gone down the projection path, with all the mutual banter between us. Perhaps I should’ve focused more on my work that day, or the song that was trying to be born. Either way, I’m not unhappy with the results, just disappointed at yet one more grab and miss. But at least the promise of a YES is still out there.
A poem upon getting her hello on FB: arriving at any time (I shared this one with her,” a poem is a poem, you know.”)
A poem upon sensing the miss or possible caution: let’s pretend nothing sparked (I did not share this one, directly)
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
< back to On Dating Again index
related posts:
- A Little Sex Talk About Dating Divorced Moms
- The Six Rules of Online Dating: Seeking Chemistry and Everything Else
- The Relationship Strategy: Moving Beyond Divorce
- Dating Part-time After Divorce: I Get It, It Is Hard To Make Time
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
image: a random capture off the web
shimmer
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
it’s not just everything about her
i know so little
it’s not the wisp of hair
the light
the breast and belly
it’s not all those things
it might be what she is looking at
that i cannot see
it might be the hope
she is looking for someone
i know it is a photograph
i know she is not real
in this moment of light
and promise
and poem
i know
and i wander
into the folds
and shimmer
11-4-12
let’s pretend nothing sparked
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
let’s pretend nothing sparked
and go on about our lives
certain that we know or don’t know
where to go from here
i’ll forget how your smile
made me feel
how I wanted to know your neck
and how, just moments before
you were simply a photograph
i’ll keep my place in line
and try not to imagine you
in the red convertible ahead
in the rain it is easier
but not easy
because i want
i want i want i want
so much
too much
that i am working on ways
to let out the line
and give you running room
and forget myself, even
for a day or so
hoping the signal
the ping, the pull
might arrive down the line
without my jerk
or tug or love poem
i am counting cycles
observing myself as a fisherman
new to the sport
and teachable
so run
live
thrive
and tomorrow
remember how i made you feel
and give a little pull
i promise not to gaff
or pull too hard
i am weaving a net in my spare time
while i am not thinking
of you
11-4-13
brightness of desire
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
the brightness of this day
could only be increased
by your smile
as my heart leaps
towards
my idea
of you
i can escape this
desire
perhaps
by not venturing
flirting and vaulting
dialing back
the intensity
but i want heat
the potential for fire
that burns away
this ache
crisps the rough edges of the past
and sands them away
with frequency
and fever
and friction
and you
the brightness of this day
alone
is still beautiful and full
and I am wondering
about you
and your fire
your heart
s
desire
11-3-13
arriving at any time
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
the heart is a bright and shining mystery
of potential to love and soar
in my clean and steady state
i listen and sound
for the edges and tempers and colors
and the join
that is sure to come
with my patience and persistence
she could be arriving at any time
even as storms and floods rage
obscuring signals
deflecting our trajectories
in the night
but seeking is also freedom
limitless and utter romance
has flavors yet unimagined
until her smile flashes
walks in the room
and says
what’s next
11-1-13
imagine this rain
[from Misconfigurations of Love – poetry]
find the relaxing place again
watching the daylight fade
together
nothing else
silence
holding hands, maybe
your smell
and smile
still visible as darkness
overwhelms
it is how i imagine
this rain
if you
were
here
10-30-13
and you are alight
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
i am holding an open door
without demands or expectations
there is joy inside and music
an easy repose and repartee
to adjust your daily muse
and moods of blue and red and black
all find voice
and comfort
it is a symphony i seek
where the orchestrations are by choice
and desire
and hope
you are invited
to begin a journey
to join in with harmonies and melody
to sing with your own voice
i listen
i have grown tired of my own solos
even as I work to keep the wind vigorous
i am ready to throw open the windows too
and let the weather change everything
push the papers, sheets, and past around
and reconfigure magic
into madness of spirit
higher and brighter
and towards a still point
of such balance
where striving stops again
you have known this peace
where ambition is paired with contentment
as best of friends
and the flex and stretch
comes from energy and joy
and you are alight
accompanied
and
easy
10-29-13
image: used via creative commons, Doorway in Muslim district in Ajmer
exquisite coffee
[from a coffee love letter – poetry]
shops
full of beautiful women
however
i need to refine my goals
a woman in *this* neighborhood
is working on perfection
not making a living
or being single
more like which lululemon color
to wear to yoga
after dropping the kids
at school
or prepping the babysitter on the RDA
of lunch
the sparkles here are real
and perhaps more like wolf traps
than ecstasies
but bound they are
to this path
of beauty
mom
of means
10-25-13
single dad
[from The Black Pages – poetry]
this is a love letter with a poison dart
but it’s only hurting me
i cannot help my sadness
abandonment
anger
i don’t want to help it
i reel in it
as i learn what i miss
what parts are taken or unspoken
a father alone
stands outside the circle of women
teachers, moms, educators, networks
are not comfortable with the angry dad
or sad, not doing so well, losing
it was not planned this way
the functions are all in place
but the numerator has been lost
the dividing line not clearly explained
we slog along with imperfect ideas
of how to say it right
to be gentle
to work out our issues elsewhere
but the blood is being spilled elsewhere
am i to be happy, to celebrate
as i am threatened with losing my home
my survival as dad is at risk
my survival
and i don’t doubt the sheriff
may be called at some point
but there is no more me
to go around
i am trying
i am hopeful and charging head-on
but the issue is different this time
i am the enemy
yet we are still a team
how does the tiger not eat the boat captain
yes
love is still all around
love is what moves us
and the implosion of love is something else
it is not hate, there is no black heart
yet the safety structures have been threatened
fucking maslow has dropped me to my knees
i am not dead
or dead-beat
i am beating my chest
still
to ask
what gives this time
where is the flexibility
how do we continue
there is no
win
10-24-13
