A Showcase For P H Poets: July 2015: Section 'A'.... [sharing Poems; Not A Contest; Monthly On Bri Edwards' P H Site] Poem by Bri Edwards

I’ve started a 'showcase' on my PoemHunter site,
which is NOT a contest; it’s no arena for a fight,
but instead a place where once a month I shall post..
a poem* from you, a PH member, which you’d like read most.

NO title, topic, nor length* do I plan to require.
Just send in a poem to set the PH members on fire.
Send to 'A Showcase For PH Poets', care of me.
Let's show off our stuff, and this also is free!

I was intending this to showcase poems by you, the member,
BUT, heck, send someone else's ** if you'd like, BUT remember....
to NOT get me involved in copyright disputes, please.
Of course if I were sued, there is NO money from me to squeeze!

(February 28,2015)

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CHANGE IN JULY:
In my July showcase I plan to list the poets and list their poems in DESCENDING order, starting with the most recent entry. That way, if you visit the showcase more than once, the poets or poems previously near the top of the list may have descended below more recently entered ones. This should make it easier for the readers I hope, and more likely that ‘newer’ poems will be read.
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I hope some of you will decide to share poems in July and also read some [or all] of the submissions.


*I now allow and welcome TWO poems per month from each PH member. At least one of them should be not much longer than 24 lines in length, but I’ll judge each case separately, trying to be fair to all.

So, now for some information about my monthly SHOWCASE for PH poets:

In anticipation of a great response for my first showcase, in February,2015, [I sent notices to about 75 members from my inbox and my list of PH friends], I added to my poem's title: “section ‘A’ ”, but there MAY never be a “section ‘B’ “.

I plan to submit one of my own short (24 lines or less) poems, and one of my LONG ones (which may go on for a couple of pages) . Therefore, and since I will allow other members to also submit two poems per month [if one is 24 lines or less], I may well add a second, third,4th, etc. 'section' so readers will not have to scroll up and down too much to refer to poems and the comments area below the poems. Understand? I hope so. This first 'section' is 'A' and I shall follow the English alphabet: A, B, C, etc. IF I FEEL A NEED (or desire) TO DO SO.


I also plan to have a LIST OF POETS [whose poem(s) are included in a following section] above the posted poems.

**I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE ALL POEMS BE WRITTEN BY PH MEMBERS, and be submitted by the authors. If you choose to submit a poem by another PH member I will try to verify that the member agrees. Poems attributed to non-members I may want to ask about also.


[PLEASE READ THE POET'S NOTE ALSO FOR MY 'A SHOWCASE FOR PH POETS'.]

I WILL ALWAYS GIVE THE AUTHOR’S NAME WITH THE POEM POSTED.

My first showcase was in February 2015, and I consider it to be a success, with almost 20 poems to view, from almost as many poets. My thanks go to all contributors! ! This is meant to expose poems and poets to readers and to provide some entertainment and/or enlightenment and/or knowledge to PH members [and I guess non-members who, I think, can also view the poems but not comment].
Some of the poems may not be on the authors’ PH sites. But if you are enthused about a poem, I hope you will visit the poet’s site and read more and leave comments.

Did I forget anything? ?

[[some ages of poets' may be age+1.
AND i use PH for the names and countries and gender as well.]]

[AND I TRY TO keep typos etc. out of the poems, but if i miss some, OR if the poets wants their poems added as they've given them to me, then i'm not going to edit the poem! ]

[In last month's (June’s) showcase, there were 19 poems from 14 poets.]
HERE WE GO……………
THE POETS AND THEIR POEMS …………………(listed in REVERSE ORDER of when I entered them into this showcase) . After the list of poets and their poems you will find the poems. Enjoy!

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18. M.J.Lemon (Canada; Male/see below; ?) (2nd poem)


Survival


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17. M.J. LEMON (Canada; Male/take my word for it; ?) (1st poem)


Alone At The Beach


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16. VALSA GEORGE (India; Female; 61)


A Space Odyssey


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15. BRI EDWARDS (United States; Male; 67) (2nd poem)


The Raven Pair...... [lovebirds? ; Bird Sounds; 'Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder' (An Old Saying) : Very Short]


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14. SAVITA TYAGI (United States; Female; 67)


Sleep Dear! Hold Me Tight


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13. KIM BARNEY (Brazil, via the U.S.; Male; 100) (2nd poem)


The Graveyard


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12. KIM BARNEY (Brazil, via the U.S.; Male; 100) (1st poem)


Magic Mirror?


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11. NOREEN CARDEN (Ireland; Female; 65)


Evlynn's House


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10. NIKA MCGUIN (United States; Female; 26)


The House Of Forget-Me-Nots


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9. CLARENCE PRINCE (Canada; Male: 75) (2nd poem)


There Are Times!


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8. CLARENCE PRINCE (Canada; Male; 75) (1st poem)


Paradise Or Hell!


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7. LORA COLON (United States; Female; not dead) (2nd poem)


A Woman Incomplete


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6. LORA COLON (United States; Female; not dead) (1st poem)


If He Were Here


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5. DARLENE WALSH (United States; Female; 21)


Traffic


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4. BRIAN JOHNSTON (United States; Male; 72)


Seasons of the Heart


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3. NONA(my stepdaughter) (United States; Female; 33)


Morning Haiku


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2. DOUGLAS SCOTNEY (Australia; Male; 62)


Witchcraft


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1. BRI EDWARDS (United States; Male; 67) (1st poem)


Finding Oneself......... [extremely Long; Growing Up; Relationships; Humour/Humor] - Poem by Bri Edwards


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THE POEMS:
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18. by M.J.Lemon:


Survival


There was a time when contemporary
Meant slogging through the osmium of life,
With the goal survival eating ennui,
And companionship undermining strife.
Familiarity, which leaks and bleeds
The bleach of drabness, sameness, and paleness
Overwhelms gratified lightness and feeds
On the marrow of growing fickleness.
What is current is stony solitude
And proximity remains a distance
Sketched and outlined by callous attitude
Defined not in miles, but by happenstance.
Where we go we go side by side by side.
Yet a temper, a passion, will have died.

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17. by M.J. Lemon:


Alone At The Beach


Alone at the beach
with hundreds surrounding me
Calm asserts itself
Cruise ships crawl seawards
Starfish grapple tiny fry
Gulls circle above
Sun rays caress kelp
Incoming waves unsettle
The tide comes closer
The old crab trap sinks
New sailboats disturb bitterns
Time to face traffic


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16. by Valsa George:


A Space Odyssey


Outside, the night was gathering strength
How swift our lightning Sputnik,
Out running the speed of sound and light
Shot into space with a violent jerk

At a distance were luminous spheres
Suspended like glowing lanterns
Comets and meteors in hyper space
Seemed more like diffused patterns

An asteroid came whizzing towards us.
I closed my eyes in dreadful shock,
Fearing a terrible head on collision.
Thank God! It deviated from our track!

I looked at my friend seated beside
Obviously not here, lost in thought!
Looking down, I saw Mother Earth
A luminous ball, not bigger than a sapphire dot

Oh! How quickly we landed on Mars
It is so different from what I had learnt
Neither a barren belt of sterile terrain
Nor a rugged stretch of craters burnt

But a heavenly place so cool and serene
Full of scintillating scenes and ravishing sights
We, the emissaries from a far away land
Were warmly received by a team of alien sprites

The weight of the world suddenly lifted from us
We bounced up and down almost floating in the air
Found ourselves in a gorgeous garden
With springing fountains and blossoms fair

Trees were laden with dazzling gems
Lagoons and lakes of liquid silver
Vast expanse of tawny vistas
Plains waving with luxuriant verdure

What fun…! Hmm…over there,
A herd of animals so strange and rare
Nothing like those seen on planet Earth
Grazing on red grass in a canyon of great width

Our restless eyes scanning all around
We were eager to explore every bit of ground
Accelerating our pace in rising delight
We moved forward with enthusiastic gait

Sudden was the sound I heard behind
Puzzled and confused I looked around
And saw my mother standing near
With a cane in raised hand on my rear

Like a stern militant
In a tone so blatant
She yelled out in an unforgiving tone
Her voice sounding a raspy moan

“You lazy swine…don’t you know this is exam time?
Again, you can no more play a dumb mime…”
Rough and curt was her angry tirade
Making my afternoon reverie suddenly fade

I saw my open book sneering at me
And my uncovered syllabus, a vast sea!

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15. by Bri Edwards:


The Raven Pair...... [lovebirds? ; Bird Sounds; 'Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder' (An Old Saying) : Very Short]



The Raven's voice seemed almost gentle today,
as, in eucalyptus tree, it seemed to say:
“Black Beauty, come join me now. I see you are there.”

And where I first saw one, I now saw a pair.

They’re not cute, may not be your favorite birds,
BUT I bet between them …… pass some bird-love words.

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14. by Savita Tyagi:


Sleep Dear! Hold Me Tight


Now that the world has brushed me aside
Ambition to make a difference isn't mine
Plumes of youth fallen to dust
Body frail and longing hushed
I am so willing to fall in your arms
Sleep dear! Hold me tight
Let me wander in a land afar
Where loving hearts still come to greet
Some from the world of light
Others of gleaming earthly delight
All breaking the barriers of time and distance
I thank them all for that glad reunion
When sleep comes in installments
It charges dues from anxious mind
Forbidding entrance to that serene world
Where about of that I only wonder
How rejuvenating to clamp down on clamor
Move beyond REM and sleep spindles
Lose all awareness of thought and feeling
To see, hear or know nothing
To slide in that blissful ignorance!
Sleep dear! Be kind to me
Keep me in your gentle embrace
Let me recede beyond the deepest layers of subconscious
Offer that quiet ambiance of nonexistence more often!

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13. by Kim Barney:


The Graveyard


We passed a graveyard today
As our bus was making its way
to Caruaru.

This graveyard was different, you might say,
Because some of the bodies
Were only partially buried
And most were not buried at all
But could be found lying
There in plain sight
On top of the ground.

They were in various stages of decay.
Some could have been placed there today
And others, years ago.

What must it be like
To lie there in the open
And have the rain fall on you
And have the dust blow around you
And into your body parts?
To stare at the sun during the day
And at night look up at the stars?

Oh, I guess they don't mind very much;
They're just old trucks and cars.

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12. by Kim Barney:


Magic Mirror?


If I look in the mirror
And myself I do not see
Does it mean that I'm not really here,
That I have ceased to be?

Or am I just a spirit
That eyes cannot perceive?
If I but try, can I be seen?
Need I only believe?

Have I become a vampire?
How does that legend go?
I see myself and then I die?
No, that just can't be so!

It feels like I am in a dream;
I surely must exist,
Else I could not have thoughts like these;
I really must persist.

Oh, one day soon I'll 'find myself'
As that old saying goes.
Ah, here at last there is a start:
Now I can see my toes.

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11. by Noreen Carden:


Evlynns House


Brasso the other kids called her.
Not me, My mam would have killed me.
Besides I liked her she would smooth her pinny.
as from its heart shaped pocket she handed
me a sailors chew a rare treasure to relish
on my way to school.

She shone her door knocker
till it gleamed in the sun.
Her doorstep painted red
Like her windows her eyes sparkled.
'The eyes are the windows to the soul' she said.

When she died the house died with her.
Slowly bit by bit it faded.
Its knocker dulled
The red step gathered dust.
Leaves swirled around the door.
Its soul the eyes, closed with grime.
As it decayed in solidarity with her.
The keeper of its shine.

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10. by Nika McGuin:


The House of Forget-Me-Nots:


Here, the roaches
climb the walls
here, the rugs
are old & sullied
here, this house
is deeply rooted
in its many tribulations
they seem to be the only
things that are plentiful
& multiplying by the day

But here, in this little old house
there is a problem
bigger than any other...
things keep going missing
one day, it's a picture
from the walls of memory
a fragment of times long past
now lost for good
the next day, it loses track
of time & how to count
the hours, forgetting its inhabitants
& all of its possessions
little by little

& my biggest fear is
that one day, it will
forget me too

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9. by Clarence Prince:


There Are Times!


Yes, there are times
We may say lots of things
There are times
We may do lots of things
There are times
We may hear lots of things
There are times
We may fear lots of things
There are times
We may not have lots of things
But if we have Christ Jesus
Hereafter we shall have all things
Hence it could be fair to say
Yes, there are times
When we feel lost in this world
More like a child lost in a crowd
With no option but to cry aloud
With just a hope of being found
Even quite safe and sound
Yes, there are times
To say enough is enough
There are times
To say nothing
There are times
To say something
There are times
To seek for Jesus
Yes, this is the time.


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8. by Clarence Prince:


Paradise Or Hell!


Surely there comes a day of lasting rest
A place where for our souls we did invest
Doubtless there is coming such a day
It’s a place of love, happiness and peace
A place where all our burdens shall cease
Truly there is coming such a day
A place to free every man of this world’s test
Sad for whom due to sin leave out the best
But there shall still come such a day
For him that chosen worldly pleasure instead life
But on that great day in hell his soul finds strife
Woe unto Him on such a day
Then now is the time one must take heed and sin not
If not one will lose out of paradise and hell be his lot
Despite his lots there shall come that day
You may say I am speaking like preacher or a teacher
But what if I am call by God as such a chosen believer
Whether or not there will come such a day
Say I am one who is like unto a watchman at his stand
Who has to be on guard helping others to understand
Even so there shall come such a day
Still you fear not for I am not a proper prophet
But if you remain in sin what shall be your profit
Surely there comes a day of lasting rest
There is only two choices paradise or hell


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7. by Lora Colon:


A Woman Incomplete


A woman without her man
Is a woman incomplete,
As the flower without its nectar
Sends the bee into hasty retreat

Like a child that fears the dark,
She is searching for a light,
Though never coming near Love's flame,
She burns with passion day and night

Her heart's a dismal island,
Barren soil where nothing grows,
Pain and sorrow, her companions......
Loneliness..... the worst of foes

She's a candle that goes unlit,
A light not allowed to shine,
No one feels the warmth of her flame,
No one kneels at her darkened shrine

She lives her life as if it's real,
Pretense puts her mind at ease,
While she waits for death, she watches
Her life waste away by degrees

A life that is spent without love
Is a life that's lived in vain,
When memories flood the feeble heart,
The past will reflect only pain

Yet, a woman without her man
Knows somewhere there's a hidden gem,
But when Love's rose eludes her,
She sees only thorns on the stem



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6. by Lora Colon:


If He Were Here


Tomorrow I'll wear his favorite dress
With flowers of indigo blue,
Because I know that if he were here
That is what he would ask me to do

I'll sit beside the river and weep
With the willow and the mourning dove,
Because I know that if he were here
I would not be crying for his love

The night comes now only to torture
This heart, each time renewing my dread,
Because I know that if he were here
On my breast he'd come to lay his head

And all through the night I would love him
With a passion he never outgrew,
Because I know that if he were here
That is what we both would want to do

If he were here in my arms again
This pain and loneliness would depart,
But time is cruel and will not remove
This chain of thorns wrapped around my heart

And should a new love knock at my door
My response will be 'Please, go away! '
Because I know that if he were here
Those are the words he'd want me to say


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5. by Darlene Walsh:


Traffic

Beep beep, move your car
Out of my way, I'm the star
I'll cut you off to get ahead
You drive like you're still in bed

Out of my way, this is my road
Move it you big fat sluggish toad
Off the road, stink up your own street
Get lost or your head I will beat

I'll fly over a lane without a blinker
When you see me coming, move you stinker
But if you try to cut in front of me
I'll cut you off and force you to flee

My toons I will blast so all can hear
My horn I will blare if at all you dare
Get in my way and you'll feel my wrath
With my hot coffee I'll give you a bath

And when the police bring me to a halt
I will prove that it all was your fault
It could not possibly be my road rage
As the court reads my name off a page

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4. by Brian Johnston:


Seasons of the Heart


Winter

A peaceful realm, time itself almost frozen
We play mind games indoors,
Our joy more in fellowship than fresh air
Rubbing one moment against another
The friction creating warmth in our hearts.
Yesterday's fireplace ashes, wires to roast marshmallows,
Always speak of new possibilities
Where dancing flames offer infinite delight,
Like falling snow, every flicker as unique
As the human heart itself.
A Christmas smile that rewards even strangers
Whose unsolicited gifts of love also come calling
Catch our hungry hearts unaware,
Though expectations are low, we are shaken awake
To ponder 'fight for more' or 'flight from! '

2. Spring

Always a surprise, Spring pops into our lives
Like a first Robin, its presence fragile,
As if Winter's grip might last forever
And snowflakes ultimately win the war.
So frozen still is hope.
Then suddenly there's an 80 Degree day,
Snow still piled on the North side
Of fences, homes, and trees,
Rose buds start to grow, seeds get the message,
And verdant change fills the earth.
Young ladies' legs blossom skirts of many colors
Conservative clothing now so passé,
As temperatures rise overall.
Soon cooler heads have all but vanished,
Romance's pollen fills the air.



3. Summer

Bare feet in summer sand can be too hot to handle,
Arms and legs too need protection from light,
Even the human heart sometimes
Needs protection from exposure
Tempting as it is to bare all.
Feeding the soul can be like feeding the body
Some foods just too rich,
What tastes good doesn’t always serve
Our inner longings at all
And wisdom doesn’t grow on trees anymore.
Adam and Eve too struggled with this issue,
Even in God’s presence somehow wanted more
Being in competition with self
A risky undertaking just because
Your ego is always with you.

4. Fall

Fall's fanciful arrival on the scene
Brings splashes of color to the stage
As if Nature were holding her breath
Turning red, yellow, orange, and brown
But never quite reaching blue.
Colored leaves glut the bowels of children's parks
And are raked into tempting piles
That invite young hearts to make the jump,
Drift up against rows of tombstones as well
Death temporarily out of sight.
We button our jackets against coming cold
Split wood that helps heat our homes
And resurrects memories of summer's ease,
Freshly canned food lined up like soldiers,
Affirms life against winter's discontent.


June 23.2015



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3. by Nona:


Morning Haiku


1
Orange sherbet skies
Golden fields of earnest songs
New day on its way

2
Blankets on the ground
Sleepy trees peer through the mist
Stillness all around

3
Rise oh golden orb
Over veils and leaning reeds
Breathe the morning air

4
Fingertips they reach
Greeting each new smiling day
Pointing to the sky

5
Figures walk along
Footsteps on the winding path
Poetry we hear

6
Fresh chill in the air
Colors waking all around
Ah, this is sunrise


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Bri discovered that 'sherbet' is the 'proper' spelling, but that 'sherbert' is the way it is often mispronounced and spelled, and is given as a second spelling in some dictionaries! who knew? i usually say sherbert. :)
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2. by Douglas Scotney:


Witchcraft


To a wand
From beyond,
we're remarkably hard
to work with;

not that we'd know,
and it's getting more so;

so much more so,
we want a wand
To beyond.


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1. by Bri Edwards:


Finding Oneself......... [extremely Long; Growing Up; Relationships; Humour/Humor]


When Bri was 13 and in grade 8,
he noticed classmates beginning to date.
At school (other) boys got their way with the girls with a kiss.
But Bri didn't have the urge; he thought 'what's this? '
He decided he should give it a try,
but each time he tried, the girl would cry.
Not only would she cry; she would run away and hide.
Bri felt between himself and the other boys a great divide.

Back home after school he'd seclude himself in his room and cry.
Through his mind was repeated the question 'why? ' 'Why DO they cry? Why? '

Bri was a straight A+ student with no flubs.
He played football but (except for 'Cooking') he joined not clubs.

After a few months Bri gave up (on girls) . He had NO close friends to set him right;
his parents should have known the problem, but they weren't bright.

In high school he took AP courses, and took 3 courses at a nearby college.
He ignored girls and sports and concentrated on gaining knowledge.

He got a full scholarship to Harvard, but his advisor looked at him funny.
By age 26 he had his PhD in psychology and started making money.
But he still asked 'why? '
It still bothered him and at times he'd cry.

Then waking up one day from a dream, Bri suddenly asked himself 'were they shy?
And if so, why with ME and not the other boys? Why DID they cry? '
The answer could be that his brain and looks were superior.
Were those girls only comfortable with boys that were inferior (to him) ?
If that really was the answer, he could now save face,
and could pursue women with HIS high level of brains, looks, and grace.
(But WAS it the answer? He was still not SURE why they did cry.)
For now he would work hard, avoid girls, and try to keep his eyes dry.
In two more years would be a second high school reunion. Thoughts of attending gave Bri a fright. (He'd skipped the first,5 year, reunion.)
But by going this time he might find out if his answer to his 'why? ' was right.

PART TWO

For two more years he waited anxiously for invitation he was dreading.
At times he'd awaken at night from a 'reunion dream', profusely sweating.
Finally it arrived in mail; it would be in June, before it got TOO warm.
He kept his calendar free for the whole month, doubting, at work, he could perform.
He got out the yearbooks his Mom had bought, and he studied each girl's name.
Would he have the nerve to ask them 'why? ' ….OR would he be too scared and lame?

He lived on sedatives for a week. He picked his favorite tie, and a light grey business suit.
Would he find out if the girls had just been shy, or would they give him 'the boot'?
The big day came and he arrived in style in a Lincoln limousine.
His classmates saw it stop at the door. 'Could it be the Queen? '
(They were just joking.)
Most of them, especially the 'girls', wondered if he'd be there.
They looked at his clothes. Was he apprehensive? They looked at his hair.

He went immediately to the bar and downed, in an hour, two Mai Thais.
At mealtime he found his name at a table at which sat only other single guys.
At the bar he'd chain-smoked, holding cigarettes between stained thumb and finger.
At the dining table between courses, he smoked more, and his exhaled smoke did linger.
Each other man wore a tieless leisure suit or a gaudy tie with sport jacket.
He engaged them in some small talk, straining to be heard above other tables' racket.
The meal done he warily approached a table of women, not ONE a loner.
Their male partners were watching baseball elsewhere. (One girl had been a 'Stoner',
but they all looked nice, including the ex-Stoner with the nose ring.)
The girls had huddled on one side of table. He wondered what this visit would bring.

When they saw him take a chair, opposite, they were startled. One almost did bolt.
Bri's legs beneath the table were trembling, like those of a newborn colt.
For a moment no one said a word. They all looked him in the eye.
Then he just blurted out his question to them 'tell me girls, why? '
They seemed not to comprehend the question. Finally the nose ring girl said 'WHY? '
Bri pinched himself and said 'WHY did you girls cry? Was it that, with me, you were all shy? '

Again they were all silent, exchanging glances eye-to-eye,
But finally the 'ex-Stoner' spoke up clearly asking 'why? I'll tell you why'.

She admitted Bri had been handsome and brainy. But he'd had some 'issues'.
At that point some of the other girls seemed to blush. Some even grabbed at tissues.
Then the one with the nose ring hesitated. Another giggled. Was it funny?
But then Bri said 'WHAT issues? Look, I've done well, I'm nearly famous, I've got money.'
At that the one girl giggled even more; she was almost a nervous wreck.
Bri continued to list his good features, but finally said 'what the heck? ! '
As he was about to give up, rising from his chair, 'ring-nose' said 'sit DOWN! '
Two of the five women almost bolted, but ring-nose eyed them with a FROWN.

All was quiet, for a minute or two; Baseball was still going.
Ring-nose looked long at rigid Bri, but HER apprehension was showing.
Finally she spoke. 'I guess you deserve an explanation; we all agree, it's true.
But first I have a question of my own. Just WHAT work is it you do? '
To that Bri responded 'I'm a Harvard-trained psychologist. Why do YOU ask, why? '
And she said 'we wondered how CLOSE you get to people now. Is that question fair? '
He said 'my patients lie on a sofa and I listen to them while I sit across the room in my chair.'
(By now all the girls had finished their drinks. Two lit cigarettes; ring-nose lit a joint.)
Now Bri, despite himself asked 'why ask how close I get? What is your point? '
Again ring-nose hesitated, then inhaled deeply, exhaled, then said 'the answer's this.
And this is also PART of the answer why we cried and ran to 'avoid your kiss.'
It wasn't that you aren't a nice guy. You are, though you are rather conceited.
It's mostly that your breath was horrible and mouth wash was oh so needed.'

Bri was shocked. He thought a moment, then said 'why didn't you girls tell me? Why?
I never realized that. If I'd known, I would have given mouth wash a try.'
To which the woman said 'first we were embarrassed. That's one reason why.
We found out how sensitive you were. Your sister told us you did cry.
And second, there were other things about your hygiene that turned off most of us.
Didn't you ever wonder why no one wanted to sit next to you on the bus? '

(Again Bri thought about what she said. He almost got up himself to hide.
And thoughts of murdering his sister were building up inside.)
Finally he said 'look girls, I appreciate what you've told me but I must hear the rest.
I thought I had it all figured out; after all I'm a psychologist, one of the best.
As for the bad breath, perhaps it was cigarettes; I started smoking in grade 7.'
Nose-ring said 'excuse me a moment', went to bar, came back with a 7/eleven.
Bri smoked a cigarette, two girls made quick bathroom visits, another got beer to share.
Once all were settled, Bri looked to ring-nose, who was running fingers through her hair.

She cleared her throat, looked at each girl and then Bri, and then she said.
'You also had real bad dandruff; it fell, like snow from the back of your head.'
She paused. Paused some more. And Bri said 'are you sure about the dandruff? Is there more? '
To which ring-nose replied. 'We're SURE, and YES Bri there is more.'
The girls were chugging beer. More cigarettes and another joint came out.
Ring-nose gave a questioning look to other girls. One answered; it was almost a shout.
'Bev, you've gone this far. You might as well tell him the rest. Go ahead.'
Ring-nose inhaled deeply, braced herself, and this is what she said.
'Bri, this may be the most embarrassing thing to hear; it IS for me to say.
I wish you had found this out from others, but I can't stop now. No way.'
The smoke was making everything hazy. One girl had a huge frown.
The giggler no longer giggled; she kept her eyes both looking down.
(pause) (pause) 'We know sometimes you didn't make it when you went to boys room to pee.
There even were a few times your bowels were a little loose so take this advice from me.

Quit smoking, go buy some mouthwash. Don't forget dandruff shampoo.
And see a doctor. See what advice about your bladder and bowels he can give to you.'

Bri by this time was sweating. He smashed his butt in an ashtray.
He thought about ring-nose's revelations. Then he had these words to say.
'Obviously I smoke. I started early. Now I'm up to three packs a day; give me a break.
As for dandruff and bathroom problems, that was long ago for goodness sake.'


The giggler kept her eyes down but giggled. Ring-nose cast her eyes to Heaven.
Another round of beer was brought as well as another 7-11.
Bri took a bathroom break. He came back with a scotch.
The baseball game might be over soon. One girl glanced at her watch.
When all were back in the corner, all eyes turned to ring-nose who said
'before the meal Pam walked by you sitting at the bar; dandruff was falling from your head.
You seem to be in denial. I'm a psychologist also. I guess I'll finish in a blaze of glory.
As for your bladder and bowels, faint stains on your fancy suit do tell the story.'
At that Bri abruptly got up and left. The girls hoped he'd do nothing rash.
Instead he emailed ring-nose a note saying: 'Thanks. I'll see you at next class bash.' (Ring-nose wondered if that was a pun.)

His limo was waiting. Bri hadn't expected his reunion stay to last.
He was shocked but pleased to finally have the answer to 'why? ' about his past.
Back home he made a doctor's appointment, bought mouthwash and dandruff shampoo.
He vowed to cut way back on cigarettes. He'd see how he could do.

Part Three

At month's end he returned to work after a short rest.
With his next reunion 5 years off, he set about his quest
to correct the ‘faults' pointed out to him by the table of his school mates.
Then he could start experiencing his first ever Bri + female dates.
The third shampoo he tried did the trick. No more snowy flakes.
Using various smoking cessation methods, he vowed 'I'll quit, even if years it takes.'
He consulted a urologist and a gastroenterologist as well.
With diet changes and occasional pills he no longer leaked or gave off a toilet smell.

When Bri was satisfied with his progress in the realm of good hygiene,
he used his membership in Mensa International to enter the dating scene.
All Mensa International members must have a minimum IQ of 132; some are female.
So he consulted a member contact list and contacted some by email.
There actually were very few in his age group who were single,
but he did have dates with two in Boston and with their friends did mingle.
The dates went ok. He wasn't sure what a 'good date' should be,
but the Mensa women talked a lot about themselves. He thought 'what about ME? '.
Bri found himself at an urban bar one night, and a hooker picked him up.
It was his first time seeing behind a size-C-or-any-size bra cup.

The five years went by and he received the invitation.
This time around he was determined to avoid humiliation.

Part Four

At the airport he rented a Ford Taurus; no limo he would use.
On Saturday night, into the party house parking lot he did cruise.
At the bar Bri had his two Mai Thais but no cigarette he smoked.
He looked for the men he knew who would know the gossip and he poked
into what they knew about ring-nose and the other girls at corner table.
Bri didn't learn all he wished to, but he learned what he was able (to) .
Again he was seated at a table of nine other single men.
The meal choices were pasta primavera, scallops, and Rock Cornish game hen.
This time he'd worn a sport coat with a gaudy tie, trying to blend in.
But this time all the others wore turtle necks. (What WAS his childhood sin?)
He kept his eye on corner table, watching for the men to go to TV set.
When they did, Bri made his move. A better chance he would not get.

Most of the same girls were there. The new one had heard about HIM.
He smiled graciously as he approached. It was now sink or swim.
Bri did not sit down but nodded to one and all. Ring-nose was there.
He had sent her an email the week before asking her to save him a chair.
He had also written of his progress in bringing his hygiene up to par.
He was down to 3 cigarettes a day; he still smoked but he'd come far.

Bri spoke first. 'Good evening ladies. It's so good to see you all.
Would any of you care to dance? ' (At that he almost did, but did NOT stall.)
His hopes were running high.
He looked ring-nose in the eye.
Again she became the spokesperson for the female passel.
She was the only one for which the job was not too much of a hassle.

'We're so sorry Bri if we disappoint you by declining your request to dance.
You see our husbands and boyfriends could be back soon. We don't want to take the chance.
To which Bri replied (after a moment) , with a smile
'Come now ladies. Just one dance with me. I don't ask you to run a mile.'

Like at last reunion, the women looked from one to the other to ring-nose.
(The giggler giggled a slight giggle. Bri felt like strangling the little thing.)
Drinks were tipped nervously, cigarettes were lit, and a joint did appear.
Though ring-nose, a psychologist, dreaded it, again the moment of truth drew near.

She cleared her throat, resisted lighting up, and said
'Bri, I got your emails 5 years ago and again last week; both I read.
Thanks for sending them. We are proud of your great progress.
But again, we've discussed this amongst us, and this we must confess.
We sent out spies earlier this evening to verify the facts.
Not one cigarette was smoked. You no longer smoke three packs.
Your dark sports jacket shows no dandruff. Your breath is your claim to glory.
Your pants have been discreetly inspected and 'NO SPOTS' tells the story.'

To which Bri responded 'your spies tell the truth, but what about a dance?
After all I've been through since grade 8, don't I get a second chance?
Ring-nose looked from face to face. Some frowned, some looked away.
'Bri, we felt sorry for you then and do now as well, but you'll have a better day.
It's true our men would not care tonight with whom we dance.
It's not for them we turn down your offer and deny you (as you stated) a 'second chance'.
Bri was beside himself. He was a well-respected psychologist.
(Concealed beneath the table his hands closed in shaking fists.)
How was it he could solve other people's problems but not his own?
Were these girls a sign that he was destined to live his life alone?

'I beg you ladies. I'll not return ever if you don't give me a straight answer NOW.
And if your answer is an honest one, I'll not bother you more I vow'.


The giggler had left the table and had not returned.
Through ring-nose's mind the 'how? ' of how to answer churned.
At last she decided, as is oft the case, the best path was to tell the truth.
But first she would give the explanation for it so the answer might seem less ruth(less) .
'Bri, in middle school it's true you smelled; that‘s why we ran away.
But we all thought you were quite divine in most every other way.
Though you were not the biggest player you were on the football team,
And watching you run and catch the ball made us want to scream.
Your manners, though not as grand as ours, were A+ for a boy,
and of course your grades were all A+, even in the courses you did not enjoy.
We heard you had the makings of a fine chef; the girls' club had the same teacher.
You were (still are) very handsome; despite the breath, ironically, your smile was your best feature.
(We especially liked you when we heard you cried over us.)
So we KNOW we owe you another explanation for our reluctance to dance.

Bri's heart pounded. Every heart at the corner table pounded.
.....
......
.......
'Bri, ......we are shy. All of us.'

Bri's heart relaxed a bit, his hands unclenched, he rose with an odd smile.
He exited the party house without another word and sat in the rental car a while.

Part Five

The following day he flew back to Boston and resumed his life's routine.
He tried a date from time to time and frequented the bar scene.

Then one evening, on his second Mai Thai, he was approached by a real looker.
She was young, a tanned brunette, with sparkling teeth. Bri thought 'another hooker'.
But this one seemed a bit different. It didn't seem a routine sex hustle.
There was a sweetness and caring exuding from her, nothing to, Bri's feathers, rustle.

They DID end up together that night, but in his bed, not a hotel.
He'd not figured out her essential difference, but he knew time would tell.
That time came sooner than he'd thought as she was about to become his new-found lover.
Another ten minutes, tops, and her essence Bri would discover.

Her breasts were cute, with tiny pink rosebud nipples, and
her smooth belly below her navel showed a few sensuous ripples.
Bri's external sexual organ had swollen nearly hard as a rock,
But when he pulled down her lacey flowered panties he found a second cock.

He was shocked of course (I would be) , but he was NOT disgusted.
Strange, vaguely familiar feelings ran through Bri's body, and he knew she could be trusted.
(WELL, maybe he should think 'HE' can be trusted?)

The night was all he (Bri) could have wished for and there were many more.
He was relieved, it's safe to say, to learn she/he wasn't another whore.
Just another sort of human he had heard about in psych 101.
She moved in with Bri and though they had some problems, mostly they had fun.

Each work day Bri went off to the office to help his patients,
and she went off to her office to help HER patients. (she was a surgeon)
(and a little older than Bri first thought.....but that was fine)
They even adopted twins, a boy and a girl; their life together was a charm,
and in a few years Bri escorted his partner into his reunion on his arm.


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