Poems · Poemvember 2018 · poetry · Uncategorized

POEMVEMBER 2018-DAY 29:“Runner’s High”

Beat up bunions
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“Runner’s High”

I ain’t never had no runner’s high.

My pursuits reside in the realm of sedentary.

I only run a length when chased.

My sprinting speed quite ordinary.

A life threatened makes for haste.

I know not of a runner’s high.

Any effort to escape,

Will likely rupture my left thigh.

Maybe I’ll just wait a bit,

Until the opportunity arrives.

Running is a game for fools,

While walking satisfies.

 

A special thank you goes out to my friend Evangeline Vickery. A continual supporter of my writing and bloggery. Always at the ready to help out. Thanks for forcing me to create a total fiction. I’ve had many highs in my days, but a runner’s high hasn’t been one of them.

Poemvember 2018, is a month long poetry project where colleagues, friends, and associates volunteer a word or phrase, which I in turn fashion into a poetical response. I have great fun exploring all the possibilities that are volunteered, and enjoy collaborating with people whether they are writers, poets, or readers.

If you enjoyed this post, stay tuned for tomorrow, as it will be the last day of the project, which will soon to be followed by a new month long project: The ProCrasstheNation.com Advent Calendar Blog. Give me a month, and I’ll give you 25 Mysterious Decorative Doors. What awaits behind each day’s door? Well, you’ll have to click the door links to find out. Please join me for what promises to be a fun month of poems, stories, and a few Christmas Surprises.

Previous Poemvember Post

If anyone is in the Metro Boston area on December 7th, please consider joining me, and my best friend, the West Coast Bandit, as we attend a night full of entertainment for a great cause at: Don’t Forget Your Art!

There is a strong rumor that I will be performing a previously unpublished piece.

https://www.paperlesspost.com/flyer/go/j1BZnnAFjklWlNTM7JQp

Poems · Poemvember 2018 · poetry · Uncategorized

POEMVEMBER 2018-DAY 28:“Guy’s Night”

“Slainte” ©️C.P. Hickey 2017

“Guy’s Night”

Gather round ye lads of youth and life.

Drink full of an everlasting glass.

The pour is great there.

Time to convene for the yearly stock taking.

Counting fellows, and blessings, and slights.

Like many, many nights, that delivered us to this brief respite.

Oh how much comfort I find in your aging faces.

I confide a friend keeps pace,

And regrets nothing while peering at an early morning mirror.

Such an honor to have passed time with you all.

I repeat, as it bears repeating, a distinct honor.

Fellowship, brotherhood, a lifetime.

There is not much better.

Campfires, ball busting, shared silence, petty differences; all part and parcel boys.

Part and parcel.

It’s been a phenomenal run, and unprecedented.

Not many are lucky to have a best friend in this life.

We each, more than seven.

The whole is truly greater than the sum of its parts.

The night belongs to us, it always has.

It will continue, until we belong to it.

Slainte! Lads, slainte!

A special thank you goes out to my friend Kenny Hayes. It’s always nice to get him involved in my projects. Kenny and I have been friends for a lifetime, and a way in which we continue to grow and cultivate our friendship is through continually regrouping to take stock, share laughs, and create new memories. I couldn’t have a greater group of friends. They all help me to navigate this world, and make it a whole hell of a lot more interesting. I’m happy Kenny decided to issue a term that sits well in my head and heart. Looking forward to our next gathering already.

Poemvember 2018, is a month long poetry project where colleagues, friends, and associates volunteer a word or phrase, which I in turn fashion into a poetical response. I have great fun exploring all the possibilities that are volunteered, and enjoy collaborating with people whether they are writers, poets, or readers.

If you enjoyed this post, stay tuned for the remaining two days of the project, which will soon to be followed by a new month long project: The ProCrasstheNation.com Advent Calendar Blog. Give me a month, and I’ll give you 25 Mysterious Decorative Doors. What awaits behind each day’s door? Well, you’ll have to click the door links to find out. Please join me for what promises to be a fun month of poems, stories, and a few Christmas Surprises.

Previous Poemvember Post

If anyone is in the Metro Boston area on December 7th, please consider joining me, and my best friend, the West Coast Bandit, as we attend a night full of entertainment for a great cause at: Don’t Forget Your Art!

There is a strong rumor that I will be performing a previously unpublished piece.

Dont Forget Your Art.jpg
https://www.paperlesspost.com/flyer/go/j1BZnnAFjklWlNTM7JQp
Poems · Poemvember 2018 · poetry · Uncategorized

POEMVEMBER 2018-DAY 13: “Wet Leaves Stop The Traffic”

“Wet Leaves Stop The Traffic” ©️C.P. Hickey 2018

“Wet Leaves Stop The Traffic”

A friend texted that her morning train was delayed due to wet leaves on the tracks.

I’ve heard most if not all the excuses the transit authority uses for poor service, but I agree with my friend: this is a first.

It would seem slippery Leaves would lubricate the movement of wheels on a track, but maybe that is not what is needed.

Still, it seems like a pretty bullshit reason.

Yet, the boxcars full of commuting cattle was delayed indefinitely.

I mean, eventually it moved, but not before thousands of texts, and emails, and false promises were made.

Hell, if I was on that train, I would have been inclined to call in sick.

And just for fun, I’d tell them that I can’t come in because there are wet leaves on my bedroom floor, and in the hall, and in the bathroom, and down the stairs out the door, and all the way to the train.

I wouldn’t want to slip.

Poems · Poemvember 2018 · poetry · Uncategorized

POEMVEMBER 2018-DAY 10: “PEBBLE LETTUCE”

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“PEBBLE LETTUCE”

Saturday mornings at the Boston Ballet are full of wonderful secrets.

I wasn’t supposed to, but I kinda did overhear two excited women exchanging words.

Although, I must admit, I never heard the words ‘pebble lettuce” used in combination before.

But, that’s what I heard.

So now my day will be spent trying to learn what ‘pebble lettuce’ might be.

I kinda wish people would keep their excited conversations to a barely audible level.

It’s rude to let other people overhear your private conversations.

And, oh so much work.

Poems · Poemvember 2018 · poetry · Uncategorized

POEMVEMBER 2018-DAY 7: “SAND PAPER”

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“Sand Paper”

A friend of mine once had a million dollar idea.

He thrust it upon me when I least expected it.

Simply put, he wanted to hire yoga enthusiasts to wear clothes made from sand paper.

And, he’d have them take yoga classes on newly laid wooden floors, or old worn wooden floors that needed to be sanded.

He was convinced that it was an appropriate marriage

Although, I’m not sure he gave it a whole hell of a lot of thought.

I’m very certain that it was not likely he thought about the sweat mixing with the dust.

Nor, did he think about the perverts in the back that like to stare a the women in the front and make them uncomfortable.

He told me that he was going to pitch his idea to Lululemon, and then take it to the HGTV network, as well as over to the guys at the This Old House TV show.

He was quite animated when talking about all the opportunities this idea could present.

So I asked him, “How do you get the sand paper to stay on the clothes?”

He said that was an issue for research and development, and that he was just an idea guy.

Well, that was some time ago, and he contacted Lululemon, HGTV, and the guys a the This Old House TV show.

He never heard back.

So he’s onto his next great idea, concerning tiny cameras mounted in eyeglass frames.

He said you could conceivably use them to take pictures of people without them knowing.

He chuckled as he read his list of possible clients: paparazzi, perverts, antifa, law enforcement.

He thought that it would be neat to have them all outfitted with his special, what did he call them? His special “X-ray” glasses.

This idea was not as unexpected as the first, as a precedent had been reached by this point.

So he’s in the beginning stages of shopping his idea around. I told him to start with law enforcement first, they might really appreciate a tool like this.

Me, I’m just at the Home Depot buying sand paper for a small bench project.

Holding the sand paper in my hand, I realize how much of an asshole my friend is.

Then as I look up, I spot a healthy young woman across the aisle.

I can’t help but notice how great she looks in her yoga pants.

I stared a bit too long, and she caught me.

 She gave me a derisive look; much deserved.

And, I thought, hmmmm? Maybe sand paper yoga isn’t such a bad idea.

 

 

Poems · Poemvember 2018 · poetry · Uncategorized

Poemvember 2018-Day 1: “Tabled”

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Photo Courtesy of Evangeline Vickery

“Tabled”

Such a thing, a conference room table.

Where minds meet.

Luncheons, banquets, all kinds of activities.

A conference room may not only possess the concreteness of a wooden table,  but long walls, and a long floor, and a long ceiling.

Windows on long walls, and standing pressure on a long floor, and high hopes caught in the panels of a long ceiling.

A conference room is alive?

And at the heart of it, can be a particular conference table.

Sometimes, documents that affect the lives of others not there, are sorted, mixed, and collated into cogent court arguments, meant to persuade other others that there is an abiding presumption of innocence; most of the time.

Holiday party maneuvers would exist in the archaeological record, if for some reason years hence, academics took the time to examine the curvature and give of the surface of a long conference table.

Late night interludes, where beefy paralegal men thrust hips upward into the heat of hiked up business skirts, adorning hellasexual partnered attorneys, exacting a new privilege.

Caressing the glass ceiling with smeared fingerprints, and the tenderest of anticipation, as the ride forward is smooth and direct.

Grinding out the bottom, line.

Now get the fuck out, and don’t tell anyone, honey.

Perhaps, the nearby mail room facilities are managed by multinational conglomerates, that turn over staff like all night diners sling hash.

Have you ever been tabled?

The kind of question you may or may not get asked by a human resources specialist, as they try to ascertain if you have the requisite skill to lie well enough to be deemed employable, but poor enough to be scared shitless to lie again once you get the job.

Long deep colored tables are seldom found at bowling alleys or soup kitchens.

Sometimes having that many knowledgeable people on hand, fouls things up.

But, it sure looks nice when it’s all shined up, and the morning sun is tracing up over Boston Harbor, casting shadows and delights on the surface.

Most times, a table like this is used as a divide to break bad news to clients, that had other expectations.

Sometimes, those tables are polished with disappointed tears.