Linus's Song (The House In the Cerulean Sea)

Written for a local writing contest where entries have to be based on the book, "The House In the Cerulean Sea" by TJ Kline. It's a beautifully written book with a couple of themes, one of which you aren't aware of right away. I think it's also a late in life coming of age story, about Linus. 

Didn't know what I was looking for,

  didn't know what I was missing,

  didn't know how deeply I could feel

    about someone who felt that way too.

Didn't know until I found

  you.

Learning new things when 

  you're set in your ways

  can be difficult.

But learning how to love and live with 

  you,

  came easy once I shut the door to doubt.

I was content with my life,

I had my patterns and routines,

I thought that meant I was okay.

I didn't know what content and happy 

  really meant

  until I 

  began to know you.

I can feel my heart beat 

  faster when I see

  you walking

  toward me.

I can feel the pulse 

  in my neck

  pounding

  whenever you are near.

I didn't know,

  no, I didn't know,

  I could learn to love.

I didn't know,

  no, I didn't know,

  the strength your love could give me.

I didn't know,

  no, I didn't know,

  and now I do.

I know I'm thankful 

  every minute 

  I'm with 

  you.

Lantern In a Cave

I sometimes attend an online writing session, The Narrative Method. I enjoy the photo and question prompts, as well as reading in small groups.

Theme: Lantern in the cave. Figuring something out. 

Photo: a shadow of a person wearing a cape with a bird on a branch to the right of the shadow.

3 Prompts. I didn't follow prompt one very closely, just went with where the photo took me.

1. What about the shadow side inspired this person to fly?

Figure it out, he said.

It feels like you're gone

Like you're trying to get away.

Like you don't want to be here.

That you don't want to be with

Me.

I don't need to figure anything out, I replied

I know what I have

I know what I want

I know I can do more, be more.

It's not that I don't want to be there with you

It's more like I want to be able

To reach higher,

To soar

Without strings limiting how far I can go,

Without the weight of guilt or anyone holding me down

If you want that to mean that's without you,

Then that is your choice.

You could put on a cape too

if you wanted to

if you dared to.

Figure it out,

Cape or no cape,

Flap your wings or ignore them,

Soar or stay rooted.

I know what I choose.

I have my cape

I have my wings

I have my will

I am off

Whether you choose to come along or not.

2: What do they always know that no insult can touch.

With the sun behind me

I can see wings and a cape

in my shadow

I can feel the strength of my wings

The lightness of my cape

And I anticipate the freedom they will help me

find.

Condescending words,

Mocking questions,

Canned insults,

No longer sting.

I wrap my cape around me

And the words bounce off. 

The gestures and narrowed eyes

Disappear in dust at the flutter of my wings

My cape spreads out behind me

As I soar

Higher and higher

Wherever I want to go.

I am invincible.

I am comfortable.

I am free.

I am me.

3. Bring it all together

"Pull yourself together," he said

"I am together," I replied.

"Is this what you really want?

"To leave, to give up?" he asked.

"I'm not giving up,

"I'm just starting." I replied.

"I'm not leaving, 

I'm going where I need to be."

Why?

Rant inspired by a few men I've encountered at open mics, on group hikes, and pretty much, my entire adult life. I think the subtitle is "wtf!"

Older men, getting in my space,

Too close for comfort,

I back up and they keep closing in.

They don't take the hint,

If they do, they don't care.

Hard to believe they could be that unaware.

Sometimes I tell them to back off,

Sometimes I can't find the words.

Sometimes i wish men like that 

would disappear from my world.

Why, why, why

Why do I have to deal with these things?

Why, why, why,

Do I think about these things?

I wish I could just get over it.

But I can't.

And I shouldn't.

I'm just trying to do what I like

And I often do it solo

Which somehow makes me fair game

For condescension and criticism.

Some might think they're well meaning

But I don't ask for their opinion

I don't ask for their help

Which seems to provoke criticism.

I wish people like that

Would disappear from my world.

Why, why, why

Why do I have to deal with these things?

Why, why, why,

Do I think about these things?

I wish I could just get over it.

But I can't.

And I shouldn't.

Is it generational?
Is it my size?

Will it ever end?

What's with these guys?

Who am I?

Who Am I? I’m trying to write a series of poems and songs for my kids, telling my story, things they know, things that don’t know.

1. Music

I like to listen to hopeful songs,

I like sad songs,

I like songs that tell a story 

so compelling that it’s like watching a movie or reading a book.

I like a strong beat

I like slow songs that wander,

I like to listen,

I like to sing,

I like to play,

I like to get lost,

I like to get found,

In music.

Eavesdropping

 Day one of Poetry Month.

Walking on the sidewalk,

I make way for a group 

going the other way,

and I hear,

"And then he stood there like he got

daydreamed into another reality."

Sitting at a table munching a scone

when I hear a guy talking 

about driving a truck 

up in Alaska,

"I worked 70 hours a week for forty years,

Man, what a waste of time."

Sitting in a workshop,

the instructor takes a break

to tell a few interesting things

he's overheard. 

"Not all monkeys are in the zoo."

Eavesdropping

is the best

entertainment 

ever.