Attempted Poesy

[Over the holiday, we were blessed to get to stay with Ian and Monica, (where we also got to visit with Sean and Sherryl). While Ian was at work, i picked out of his bookshelf a short book of poetry by Robert Frost, and whiled away an hour or so. It got my poetic juices flowing which i vanquished on the following piece a couple o' days ago. It's decidedly less Frostian than Dr. Seussian, but at least it ain't a haiku.]


Monologous

Reticence spoke aloud today.
Admittedly didn't have much to say,
But what she said, she said with her eyes;
For stylized punctuation— she cried.

Why did she weep from the top of her stare?
From chin near her chest, and eyes through her hair,
And fists in her pockets and brow full of smoke,
Why did they whither to slits with a choke?

i summoned my grimoire of mind-reading tricks.
i summoned some Muses (as they too are chicks).
i stared to the depths of my wee crystal ball—
First full of gold spirits 'till i augured 'em all.

i reflected on what i had said that p’r’aps would’ve;
i tried to recall an expression that could’ve;
It even occurred in the midst of my brood’
To ask her outright why she’d altered her mood.

Could be it’s just my dim compulsive-obsession,
But i couldn’t quite solve that damn’d passive-aggression,
Nor the look that transposed from a glare to a whine—
Like a gun to our knife-fight that bade me resign.

In the end i withdrew my raised eyebrow as futile,
And ignored ‘till it passed, this, the feminine brutal,
With its glower suggesting she mistook my intent.
With a scream, though sans sound, she remained Reticent.