At A Glance

A few short musings and drabbles that came from me typing one or two words into google and seeing what the most-searched were (i.e., what was in the drop-down as suggested search phrases.)

x.

Why is the sky blue?

Why are barns red?

Why do we yawn?

Why do men cheat?

All universal questions that have logical answers, only, no one wants to actually hear them. They’d rather it be some big mystery, some big deep-meaning thing. We ask them with our eyes wide and dewy, big, shining pools of wonder and a genuine desire to know. 

We don’t want to know. 

We want the person we’re asking to tell us the sky is blue because of an ancient myth, that barns are red because of some American tall tale. We yawn because someone else who loves us is yawning far away. 

Men cheat because it’s about them, not about you. 

Oh, sweetheart, it isn’t about you. He’s got issues he can’t work out, don’t blame yourself. 

Oh no, heaven forbid you blame yourself. 

The sky isn’t blue due to light refraction, and barns aren’t red with rust to deter mold and fungus from growing on them. Yawning is not your body’s way of getting more oxygen to your brain. 

And he certainly didn’t cheat on you because you weren’t meeting his needs.

You weren’t smothering him. 

You didn’t turn out to be what he’d hoped you were. 

xx.

I can’t sleep

I can’t stop

I can’t go for that

I can’t think straight

So many things run through my mind before bed that it becomes impossible to actually complete the task at hand--sleeping. My thoughts run away on me, tearing through marketplaces of what-ifs and careening down the dark allies of bad memory lane. I can’t catch them, not when they split up and sprint full-speed ahead. 

And what’s worse is I can’t just not do it, can’t just make myself think of something else. I can’t not dwell on s**t. 

My mom says, “Deena, just stop stressing about problems that don’t exist.” 

My brain replies, “Let me just help you imagine some new and terrible scenarios.” 

I think about the offer he made me the other night, about what I said to him. 

I can’t go for that, no, no can-do. 

How could he even suggest it? How could he think I would be okay sharing him with someone else? With several someone-elses? 

The tears came and went, then forgot their keys and came back again, and decided to stay for awhile longer, then left for good. 

I can’t think straight because how could someone who said he loved me want to see other people? Why should he get to have me strung out and waiting and hanging on his every word, as well as any other girl he might see at the bar and just want, like a kid in a toy store?

I think it’s safe to say I won’t be getting any sleep tonight. 

Oh, no. 

I won’t be sleeping tonight. 

xxx.

We shouldn’t have to pay for internet access

We shouldn’t move heaven and earth

We shouldn’t be doing this

We shouldn’t have homework

It started as a conversation about how the internet should be a free resource for everyone, that paying is just another way for the government to regulate and monitor us. It moved on to banter of a more flirtatious nature, which I don’t feel like either of us had intended to let it become. 

Flirtation became wishful thinking became thoughts turning to action until all of a sudden we were desperate to be together. She couldn’t tell her parents because of what they would say. I couldn’t tell anyone because I was paralyzed with fear. 

For a long time, it seemed like all either one of us could do was cry. 

I hated the world for drilling it into my head from a young age that the feelings I was having were wrong. 

I’m a girl, she’s a girl. Those don’t mix; no, no. 

We broke up, we made up, we fought, we broke up, we made up. . .

Still, in the midst of the misery, she could still make me laugh. 

“Can you believe Johnson gave us that five-page paper to do over the weekend? Bullshit, I say. How are we supposed to get anything done while we’re in a state of emotional distress?” 

I couldn’t agree more. There’s no way I could focus on the plight of the Tibetan people at a time like this. 

xxxx.

Couldn’t care less

Couldn’t get it right

Couldn’t agree more

Couldn’t stand the weather

I come off bad, I know. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s more that I can’t care. It’s dangerous. I forget to call and forget to text. Act surprised when she gets upset with me. She should be upset with me. If the tables were turned, it would feel pretty s****y. 

It usually was just a waiting game, waiting for them to get sick of me and leave. Meanwhile, I’d fade out casually, still sleep with them, not put in much effort. 

Really I’m just afraid of becoming too attached and having them blow me off the way I do to them. 

Then I meet her. She’s special, witty, challenging, beautiful, and not in any of the usual ways. I want her to like me, to love me. 

I spend all of my time becoming the person she wants, agreeing when I should, disagreeing when she’s getting complacent. 

It was all going so well, and then. . .

We take a trip to Hawaii, and she dumps me on the beach. Leaves me high and dry in my stupid board-shorts with a dumb pineapple-half cocktail in my hand. My back was peeling because I’d forgot sunblock two days before, and I just stand there like a moron with this pineapple drink and an expression on my face I’m sure is hilarious. 

I’ll never go to the beach again. 

Sunny days already piss me off. 

xxxxx.

You think this is a game?

You think this is a game, Cat?

You think darkness is your ally.

You think you know me. 

xxxxxx.

You don’t know jack

You don’t say?

You don’t own me

You don’t know me

xxxxxxx.

Could we find more like that?

Could we start again, please?

Could we live on mars?

Could we with ink the ocean fill?

xxxxxxxx.

A ship is lost in a dense fog

A ship is sailing due north

A ship is safe at sea

A ship is floating on a lake

xxxxxxxxx.

She won’t be lonely long,

She won’t be lonely long.

She won’t say hello

She won’t follow you

xxxxxxxxxx.

I feel pretty

I feel like dying

I feel good

I feel worse

xxxxxxxxxxx.

He took it out

He took my childhood in his stride

He took the midnight train

He took your place

xxxxxxxxxxxx.

He left me

He left me for her

He left some kind of signature

He left without saying goodbye

Reviews

[B-poet]

An interesting and candid take on why the nuisances in our lives drive us crazy sometimes even though they don't make a lot of sense when they're happening to us during our moments of despair. A very interesting and intriguing read. I love the tone you keep constant all the way through. Shedding light on the benefits of being sarcastic with a little touch of irony along the way. Great job. :)

[Rhiannon]

thank you for the kind words :)

[The Twin Arenas]

this is one of the better things I've read in a long, long while.
Thanks.

I hate the f*****g beach, too.

[The Twin Arenas]

wow. just a sec. I need to have a cigarette.

[Sofia Brun]

You're poems are honestly some of the most original and odd (in the best of ways) I have ever read and I am just completely perplexed by them and how much I can relate to them even if I don't completely understand them, because that's the thing about poems sometimes... you don't have to understand them to relate to them or enjoy them on some deep emotional level. Congratulations and I hope you get tons of recognition for your work. You honestly deserve it for coming up with these unique and strange pieces of work.

[A. Amos]

this is one of my favorite piece I have read in writer's cafe, you took your readers to a journey and in between so many messages you shared. This poem define your brilliance and I truly enjoyed. Respect

[MoriartyMesa]

Messages fly off this like a British flyers rushing to the field to jump in the planes. Anyone could walk away with a hundred different messages, but your over all theme rocks.

[xxlheart]

you have a witty style. this makes me feel sorry for the guy that lost out on you. btw, your bio is one of a kind, none other like it here which makes you unique oh and talented of course. :)

[Rhiannon]

thank you very much haha, and don't worry, my current guy knows he'd be lost without me ;p

[Sami Khalil]

A nice read and write...:)

[Rhiannon]

thank you ^_^

[Sami Khalil]

My pleasure...:)

[Chris]

Hi... you walk well. You do coffee?

[Rhiannon]

I don't know what you mean by that, and no, coffee is the bane of my existence

[Chris]

The paths you took were well taken...the thoughts well and fully expressed - was what was meant. Sorry coffee isn't to your liking, the pause to sip and speak would have been interesting...