"Castaway..." "The Cafe` - Life As We Live It"

A piece of an interrupted chapbook

"The Cafe` - Life As We Live It"

“Castaway…”

”…Martin!” my voice got louder.  “Martin, it ain’t right.”  …and louder - just after the ‘angels’ gave their customary pause to all conversations - but mine.

People at the nearby counter took notice and started edging away.  The ones at the diner’s tables, a little farther away, gave me that ‘you-aren’t-there-so-I’m-ignoring-the-loud-a*****e-ruining-my-lunch’ glance and went back to eating.

“It just ain’t right!!!”   I slammed the phone flip-face down onto the top of my table.  It crunched - felt like it broke my hand too… f**k-it - was THEIR cell anyways, not mine anymore… ‘nothing of theirs is mine anymore’ crossed my mind right then and my body - my whole body, sort of just slumped in on itself.

They could have waited until Friday - damn, at least til Friday.  Tuesdays and I have a continuing ‘history’ - little of it ‘good’… The waitress took that moment to reappear, a coffee pot in her hand.  “At least the refills are free...” she said.  I looked up at her face - sad eyes and a small smile; yeah, she knew.  I guess everybody there knew… even me, now.

I edged the cup toward her.  She leaned a little, refilled it, and her free hand lightly touched my shoulder as she straightened, then turned and walked away.

I straightened up again… found MYSELF again - with that light touch on my shoulder.  “Thanks hon, I needed that.”  I said toward her back.

She paused in mid step, turned, and looked me straight in the eyes.  “I know, and its ok.  I’ve been there too,” she said softly.  Then she continued on to the other tables.  Coffee can be a luxury and serving it - a necessity… yeah, I guess she DID know about being here.

“Castaway…”

For some it’s a moment,
for some it’s a lifetime -
and its what we face

what we risk -
with every reach
every try
every hope and dream.

We want so hard
to control OUR existence,

our ways -
of being

of living
of loving and being loved
of having todays
of having tomorrows.

It hurts…

each slap is felt,
each ‘dig’ bites,
each laugh at our expense -
eyes that don’t see,
heads that turn away.

...and its MEAN!

not fair,

not always justified by what WE did

or do
or know
or say
or anything at all…
its just life
as we live  -
as we TRY
to live it.

Its hard being me.
Sometimes I wish so much
for so very little in the grand scheme of things -
and sometimes it’s a touch
just
one
single
touch
that’s needed and isn’t given.

Chris

Author's Note

Say what you want - feel free

Reviews

[x]

I think that the mini-story sets the tone for the poem really well, it's pretty relatable. The voice of the character is good enough that you don't care that there is so little in the way of a supportive skeleton; the emotions and responses fill most of that in and give you an idea of what's going on. The first paragraph is a bit unclear and I think it could be polished a little, but otherwise the story is concise and the wording is elegant. I found myself being distracted by all the caps and some of the punctuation.. but I don't see how you could have avoided that.

The choice of subject matter is also different and it seems more meaningful because most people don't write about just plain-old, boring human contact, but that's how we spend a majority of our time. In prosaic situations. So this is a great melding of unusual and commonplace circumstances.

[Fairy Khan]

“Its hard being me.
Sometimes I wish so much
for so very little in the grand scheme of things -
and sometimes it’s a touch
just
one
single
touch
that’s needed and isn’t given.”
I absolutely love these lines. Human contact and empathy are so necessary, but we seldom acknowledge it. Wonderful piece of writing, Chris.

[Renée]

Since my first days here I have enjoyed your writings. Vivid, snippets of life which make me feel as if I was in a booth nearby, or perhaps the waitress, or the person with the phone.
Touch is so important to our being.

[NotUsinganymore]

Very nice poem about human contact. Something that is overlooked. Rejection is hard. I remember I asked a girl out for a uni dance and she completely rejected me. I was more embarrassed cause there were people around me than sad or angry.

[Chris]

Social situations can 'bite' and embarrass.

[Chris Shaw]

Rejection sucks, particularly if you are a sensitive person and you don't think you fit in. I particularly felt your voice in the final stanza. That reaching out by someone, and a single touch can mean the world to someone who feels isolated.

Chris

[Chris]

Being human isn't always a 'given'. The level of 'ouch' we experience seems so cumulative.

[Chris Shaw]

Sad that some should experience those feelings. ouch hurts.

[Chris]

"Life as we live it..."

[Chris Shaw]

Wishing better for you :(

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i think we all need that touch...kind of lets us know we exist to others...but sometimes, we just need to live and not try to control anything...just let it be, let ourselves be...
and others will touch us when we least expect it.
thoughtful write...as is usual for you, my friend.
j.

[barleygirl]

This is a great slice of philosophical pondering! I love how your allegory perfectly describes the major downfall of being human, as your reviewer Diana mentions: WANTING CONTROL!!!! We reach out, we get bit, we hesitate to reach out again. As the years go by, it seems like everyone has retreated into their shells, unwilling to reach out & be slapped away again. I see this all the time & you show it from the viewpoint of having a slew of unresolved rejections in one's gut. This is very powerfully shown without much telling, which I love (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Diana]

"We want so hard
to control OUR existence,"- This is the root of much of our suffering in life. Really felt this line... just
one
single
touch
that’s needed and isn’t given."- The juxtaposition of what we need and the harsh reality of what we can have. Well-said. Really enjoyed this one. -Diana

[Stephany]

Tuesdays never were a good day at the cafe. Every stanza has a point that all can identify with. That is the beauty and the beast of your writing.

[kentuck14]

Chris,
Interesting piece . . . a mixture of prose and poetry. Each bit of rejection, betrayal, taking away works to wear us down . . . the erosion the world. I am reminded of Cain's reaction towards his brother Able, who he has already murdered. "Am I my brother's keeper?" Indeed, your waitress has answered that question.
Tom

[Chris]

Thanks Tom... I appreciate your pause and insight.

[Nicole West]

I'm not good with words but...

I. HEAR. YOU.