Tea of Sarcasm(18th hour)

“Gather yourselves, ladies, prim and proper” Mrs. Havensham said, “with your powdered pearls protruding from your bosoms like so”

She continued, “Be certain to display your ivory white gloves, upon your intricate lil hands. For you see, Tea is high society and high socialites you shall be”

A voice rang out from the back, “How high?”

Mrs. Havensham was not pleased but continued on, “If a concerto is brought up in conversation be sure to mention how much you adore Mozart’s violins and or Bach’s organs”

“Like his insides”

“Don’t be ridiculous, not the internal kind, don’t be so crass. They wouldn’t like that. No woman should ever be so brass. High tea is serious business” She said with much composure “And you shall pursue it with illustrious gracefulness”

Pressing on, Mrs. Havensham sighed heavily and addressed the rest, “As you lift your cups and saucers to your lips, extend your pinkies out like this”

“Oh so we can pretend and put on the ritz”, the voice rang out teasingly

Red in the face, Mrs. Havensham approached the voice, “I would be remiss to say that your constant interruptions like today are liable to get you dismissed. And your etiquette lessons will wash away with your dreams of being a good wife. No man will ever want a woman who jokes about during tea time or sits around drinking wine and smoking cigarettes from time to time. Now sit up straight, legs crossed and keep quiet at all times.”

The woman raises her hand to Mrs. Havensham, “One last interruption, if I may. I believe a correction to your lessons needs to be made.”

“Such as what, exactly?”

“Such as, I do not wish to be put on Patriarchal display. Cluttered and tattered upon those shelves of double standards. Although, I speak my mind-I am quite polite to those who are deserving. It is my choosing if I want to wear white gloves and pearls and discuss the many overtures in Mozart’s Figaro. And I most certainly do not smoke cigarettes. Why, I bide my time by drinking wines of all kinds but what really gets my spirits going is a fine robust cigar with some bourbon or rye”

Hour Eighteen Dinner Date (Prompt Table for Two)

18 2017 dinner date (prompt table for two)

Dinner Date
by Paul Robert Sanford

At a table for two
we sat and smiled
as couples do on a date
early in a relationship.

That night marked the demarcation between my life before and since.

She flashed her radiant smile,
her delicate perfect features
framed with angelic curls.
A crystal on a chain around her neck,
her peasant blouse showing off her good shoulders.

From that night came a new career, parenthood, stability, and sadness.

I was in a brilliant, happy phase,
full of vitality and creativity
fairly wise and not too arrogant.
Still with hair framing my rugged features,
contact lenses letting my soft eyes show.

The biological clock was ticking for both of us, and this was my callback audition
for sperm donor, parent, life mate.

I never believed this spectacular creature
could really want humongous bumbling me,
and I drove her crazy with my insecurity,
but eventually she convinced me she loved me.
I adored her so much I was afraid to show it,
hiding behind a bit of gruffness from time to time.

That night was the beginning of two wonderful children, ten eventful years together,
the golden time that divided my long youth from my elderly disabled days.

I don’t remember anything that happened that night
at that table for two,
just an indelible picture of two people falling in love
joining their lives
blessed by the soft lights of a nice restaurant
on a momentous dinner date.

Choices

The Earth is light

The Earth is dark

It’s not just the day

Nor just the night

 

In our hearts

And in our souls

Light we make

Or darkness unfolds

 

It’s what we say

And what we do

That spreads the light

Or darkness do

 

The choice is ours to share the light

Or plunge the world into the night

Repurposed

my chest is a ticking
time bomb with no solution
unbalanced and bent
but you make sense of it

the hollow of your chest is safe
from explosions your hands your
eyes the crook of your neck leave
me mostly undone you know

that I was made to self-destruct / the
chemicals in my brain tell me how
to end things and my heartbeat is a timer
that you keep turning back into a
heartbeat

darling
you are the only shelter I know
that can keep me safe from
myself / I promise that you
can always depend on me like
clockwork

prompt 18 evening fog

Evening fog lifts
Revealing bright moonlight
As mental fog clears,
Thoughts becoming words and
Words becoming
extraordinary crapy poems
Oh well
Remove soon your foggy glasses
Everything fine here
Need that drink again

Desire

 

Poem 14

Desire

Clammy cold evening

No raincoat in sight

ONLY

Steamy red thoughts elbowing through the fog

 FOR

one’s lover to decipher,

stroke by stroke, kiss by kiss…till the sun comes up

18

You have a pretty set of eyes,
it’s a shame about the rest of you.
Your blessed hips
couldn’t carry a Saint.
You won’t rot any different.

Reverse Logic

Poem 13

Reverse logic

 

Time rolls backwards
We start life from the point at which we would have had our last breath
With a wealth of knowledge as if having lived before
And gradually we become younger versions of ourselves
Until we escape
Until our atoms escape back into universe like we never were
Our very existence never having unsettled the atmosphere our presence never being here
All but a dream, foggy and fading as we awake into the reality of nothingness