Saturday 9 January 2016

A Singular Take on Rush Hour

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

A reader contacted me to ask if I have any more ‘story’ poems. Well, I like to oblige where I can…

Like many of my poems, this one is based on a conversation I once had with a delightful gay couple in a predominantly straight bar, at a time when I was feeling (and probably looking) very fed-up after a BAD day, all of which only goes to show how life is full of surprises; we never know what positive possibilities may await us around the next corner unless we just…turn it.

I do so love a happy ending, don’t you? We may not always find one, but we can have a great time trying, and one unhappy ending doesn't make a lifetime...

It's important, too, to remember that a happy ending may not take the form we would like. For example, I did not expect to be spending the latter years of my life on my own BUT I have some GOOD friends, am in sufficiently reasonable health to get out and about...and, of course, I have you, my readers. SO...no unhappy ending either and I remain a Happy Bunny, always looking on the bright side of life...well, most of the time. 

A SINGULAR TAKE ON RUSH HOUR

Looking
for love in all the wrong places;
cruising bars.
misreading faces that seemed
interested in me
only to discover as we moved in
on each other
these were only masks, ghosts
without substance
except in eyes of desire looking
for more, far more
than a one night stand, but living
in a fantasy land

Looking
for love in all the wrong places;
catching eyes
in turn-on, quick, turn-away faces  
less interested in me
than in feet, all sizes, pounding
frantic streets
for all manner of everyday meets
about as likely
to measure up to expectation
as wishful thinking
about a sexy lead in a new drama
on television 

Looking
for love in all the wrong places;
dressing to kill,
trying to thrill, excite, make out
I’m all that I’m not
because so unhappy with all I am
without someone
to need me, want me for more
than sexuality
demands we must satisfy this way
or another
given mind, body and spirit at odds
with each other

Thinking
of love in the most unlikely places,
even day dreaming 
on the 7:15 carrying me through
the hustle and bustle
that’s an everyday commute to a job
I’ve come to hate,
not least because it’s all repetition,
nine to five
and never (quite) alive at start or end
for being on my own
at waking, playing, even (mostly)
sleeping alone

Not looking 
or even thinking of love, but chatting
to a stranger
while waiting for train running late
one dreary day;
it turned out we had much in common
and it mattered less
about all the pushing and shoving
on the platform,
frantic rushing for a seat once the train
(finally) arrived;
we laughed companionably, thankful
to have survived

In time, friend and lover to each other
without (at first) looking for either …

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016







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