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

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

A Poem by Chris
"

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

© 2011 Chris


Author's Note

Chris
Say what you want - feel free

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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.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Chris,
"Castaway.."The Cafe'- Life as we live it"
Well, here I am still moving from the back of your work to the front.
There is so much that is missed in the day to day and can be easy to bypass lessons there. As you stated in your last line; "and sometimes it's a touch, just one single touch that's needed and isn't given.
The lesson here is to pay attention, be aware of people not as furniture with no feelings but people. Give and take is so important. This poem spoke that to me. Thank you so much for your honest portrayals of human experience. Its good to realize none of us are alone unless we choose to be.
Kathy

Posted 7 Years Ago


Life happens to us all is really deep but very basic too, life is simple we make it really complicated as our ego and trivial nature, so this life is the part of the real materialistic day to day world me and you live and slowly wither away, so this is so real to us more than anything, a times feel nothing is fare, sometime feel one may become a better player, very rarely concern about the unjustified perishing of the innocent victim, real great conversation part and poetry followed, enjoyed and impressed

Posted 10 Years Ago


Some things are universal in our society. Some s**t always happens to the good guy's. And sometimes the best answer to to ride the anger generated and tell the b******s they made a huge mistake. But then some places are better than others and some people in these special places have an ability.
One of the greatest difficulties in any writing is to pick out the essence of a time, a place. This is as strong as Edward Hopper and as atmospheric as the Nighthawks.

Posted 12 Years Ago


Chris

12 Years Ago

This was a time whose idea had come. The chapbook was pretty much mapped out - life happens to us .. read more
if I have to wait for the commercial break.. it doesn't count..

Posted 12 Years Ago


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 loved this last part, it was perfect. I think you managed to completely express how important some of those small things are, to know that someone, somewhere actually cares or gets it. The little anecdote at the start really set the scene and mood. Thanks as always for a great poem! :)

Posted 12 Years Ago


your style reminds me of Robert Frost- though i know he says he never writes free verse. I love this piece particularly the ending bit. I feel as if the persona is speaking directly to me and that I can relate. Especially to the laughing at ur expense bit. Great write

Posted 13 Years Ago


if maybe, I don't notice, if I don't know the words to say . . . I will still be just a touch away

Posted 13 Years Ago


Very eloquently done. The initial story was raw and real, and it all comes down to wanting to be acknowledged with even the simplest of human contact that is real and sincere. Wonderfully done, thank you for sharing. :)

Posted 13 Years Ago


I adore the structure to this piece Chris :) You delve straight into the heart of matters here! That touch..however distant or small can reflect an eternity! Beautifully woven together, I see I am going to like your style :) xx

Posted 13 Years Ago


A poem...a story...a little bit of each...I love the lyricalness (?) and the flow. I'm not bothered by the caps and punctuation at all. For me, it jolts me. Impacts me in the right ways. Human touch is underrated, but something we all long for in our depths. Amazing what a simple, gentle hand on a shoulder can do for the soul.

Posted 13 Years Ago



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Added on June 30, 2011
Last Updated on June 30, 2011
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris

Author

Chris
Chris

Lansing, MI



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