R A Ruadh

Easy to Miss

So easy to miss

understand

To tune in to the cyberspace connection

To find the wavelength the one who seems in the same direction

To share the road the highway the talk

The virtual walk.

So easy to miss

understand.

Please know me,

Show me, throw me

A lifeline, byline, love line, straight line, pick-up line

Or a one line.

Cryptic notes greet hearts poured out

Slide shows, films of wars which shout

That here I am and you are not,

So disregard this post, these tears, this unseen blot.

No time today. Sent. No reply.

So easy to miss

understand.

In each our tiny laptop hell

We aimless browse new thrills and breathless wait the message bell

Like Pavlov’s dog we salivate

In hopes of wisdom or a date.

The girl next door has lost her charms

We’d rather seek out constitutional alarms

We argue freedom and civil liberties

From behind a cloak of agoraphobic distrustful maybes.

Imagination and fear fuel our research

Don’t analyze just search and church

The dark webbed rabbit hole answers our why

While in the ladderless tunnels snakes multiply

Could our profiles ever meet

Would they recognize each other in the street

Or have we created an open book

Whose only pages are the ones in which we like how we look?

No need to risk honesty’s abyss

Of truths and lies it is all one of virtual unreal bliss

Anonymity’s cues a clever hideaway

Leaves message unread. No reply today.

So easy to miss

understand.

Syrinx

Pain lances across my pleasure

A lightning strike

Incinerating my arousal

Flower

Branch

Trunk

Root

No spark is left

You like it rough though

Not reflected back

Your bigness is suddenly no longer

A gentle space to blossom

Piracy replaces pleasure

Pornography packs a punch

Progress measured in penises

Pain powers possession

I seek the sensual

Slithering slide of skin and sweat

Sweet sensations of

Sinuous sunlit snakes and

Melting moonlight magic

When Pan would possess Syrinx

She shape shifted into

Slender reeds of song

Forcing him at last to tenderness

Lest she disappear altogether

Into the wind

Ox Gallows

Perhaps executioners

Learned it from farmers

To erect the gallows

Outside the convict’s window

We are most comfortable

Viewing our steaks in neat packages

The old fashioned among us examining

Row upon row at the butcher

Driving through the bucolic countryside

We do not think of frolicking

Lambs and placid grazing cattle

As raw meat

Here on the farm the ox fattens

On potatoes and pumpkins while the farmer

Builds the scaffold and

Tri-poled hoist for hanging and cooling him

Then he waits for cold daytime weather

On that chilly morning

The farmer will turn off the electric fence

Feeding the ox his last meal

Before administering a

Quick death

Within inches of freedom