New Poem: Owl Cigar Shop (November 16, 2007)

The wonderful thing about writing a poem is the ability to express various emotions and to help cleanse the soul of some level of pain...pain caused by guilt, by remorse, by sadness, by a wounded ego, and lastly by feelings of loss.

I do not care if the subject of this piece ever sees it...that's not the point. The point is, I took what I had and from it, created something that can last forever.

This was written in New Haven, while sitting at the Owl Cigar Shop, the night before The Game.

Owl Cigar Shop

(November 16, 2007)

Most women on a pedestal would bask in the light,
would drink up the glory,
would glow naked in the night.

But you defy convention, you buck the norm,
you resist any such diefication,
you refuse to go with form.

And in your unexpected rebellion, my spirit was momentarily crushed,
you mistakenly suffocated my passion,
you unintentionally invalidated my lust.

Yet all I wanted was the connection we had at first write,
yet you needed to break away,
and you chose flight over fight.

So, here I sit where you once did in this leather chair,
cigar at the ready and bourbon so tasty,
and scents of soap and water and memories of auburn hair.

And I do lament that I failed you, that I drove you away,
but mostly, I miss the beers, the e-mails, the quiet talk,
and in the vacuum of our "thing," our passionate play.

(c) fprm, 2007.