“The food is done!”
she said,
if I want some.
I’m sure the food
will taste great.
it always does.
But will there be talking
and companionship?
OR will I hear a tinny voice
coming out of her ear
as she listens
to someone else
far more interesting
than I am?
I’m filled with dread
and hope
and longing
and expectations.
Unpleasant,
this,
the man-made droning
that never goes away,
unlike the giant flights
that roar overhead
but eventually fade
into the distance.
Still,
better than the TV and social media,
with their constant
look at this look at that you won’t believe what happened today oh my goodness this is so significant!
My stomach is too full
to go hang out
at a pizza place.
I don’t drink,
so a bar provides no relief.
I’m glad I don’t live on the coast,
on a beach
where I could simply take off my shoes
and my robe
and Walk
and Walk
and Walk
toward the sunset,
until the water washed over me
and lifted me
and carried me
where it wanted.
If I Walk
and Walk
and Walk
and let my feet carry me
where they want,
there’s a good chance
I’ll find my way back
to this porch later this evening,
because the bugs always start
to bite
around sunset,
and they provide poor companionship.
Starting at 6:40 p.m. on August 14th, 2024, this happened:
I could complain how
she doesn’t listen, but she’s
got bluetooth hearing.
——–
Her bluetooth hearing aids
mean she won’t listen
to me.
It’s probably like
when guys are glued to sports
on TV.
We’ll go on romantic walks
but she’s listening to TED talks.
Her newfangled hearing aids
means she’s NOT hearing
me. (6:42 p.m.)
———-
What’s the point of new
hearing aids if you just hear
pre-recorded talks? 6:43 p.m.)
——
My Dad watches reels.
My wife listens to TED talks.
Conversation’s gone. (6:45 p.m.)
————
Well,
it’s happened.
I’m in the downhill part
of my life.
Walking is easier.
I see more,
I hear more,
I think more,
I feel more,
I understand more.
And my dad
has the TV volume
up to 120 decibels,
and his face
is in the phone,
watching reels of little kids
he doesn’t know,
dancing.
And my wife,
the smart person that she is,
tunes into TED talks
and philosophical lessons
from people much deeper
and much wiser than I am.
So after all this time
thinking that I could talk
about deep and significant insights
that I’ve gained
and that I’m learning day to day,
I’m still alone,
with my thoughts and feelings.
Except for God and Jesus.
They’re still there,
like They always have been,
like They always will be.
But being alone
and lonely
now
was not
what I expected.
(6:51 p.m.)
———
Another lover?
Who needs one more when she’s got
TED to listen to? (6:52 p.m.)
——–
She works.
I think.
She thinks.
I think.
She listens to others.
I think.
She talks about others.
I hear her.
We might connect.
But it’s like I’m watching a play
or reading someone else’s mind.
I’m not participating
except to look,
and hear,
and breathe,
and occasionally turn the pages
of the play bill,
and get up and stretch
at intermission.
The world is a stage,
but I’m not a player in it.
I just watch
and listen to tales
of what others have done
and are doing.
If I walk into the field,
the woods,
the creek alone,
with my thoughts,
as Muir
and Thoreau
and Whitman
and Longfellow
have done,
perhaps that’s my purpose?
Were they alone also?
Even though they had people around them
to share with?
In their thinking,
and their connecting with nature,
were they still alone?
And were they lonely?
Or just busy?
(6:56 p.m.)
———–
What did Goethe do
alone, thinking? He had no
techno-distractions.
10:55 p.m.
When you dye to look
KPop cool, but your black hair
looks toupee old fool.
OR
When you think it would
be fun to look like K-pop
but looks like toupee.
I grab her now like
she once grabbed me. There is no
result I can see.
Backstory: As I prepared for my 50th High School Reunion (including registering on-line on the high school’s reunion site), a woman I barely knew and I started writing about past intentions, bell bottoms, and memories. One evening, I wrote several haiku based on life reflections… and thinking about wearing hip-hugger bell bottom’d jeans to the reunion.
Wearing bell bottoms
removes our blues, if we let
them make us groovy.
Put out intentions
for what you want, what you need,
what is right. They’ll come.
I fear to again
wear hip hugger jeans, for my
hips have long vanished.
[giggle].
I arise in a
zone, long ago forgotten,
searching with new eyes.
Small moments from our
past may return. Mem’ries give
peace, comfort and joy.
She’s learning. That’s good
for her. I’m left out and so
lonely. Bad for us.
We have deep talks when/
her device gives insights. Else,/
I’m left to myself.
AND
I thought myself wise,
insightful, worth talking to.
I’m boring, replaced.
AND
Were I wisked away,/
I would not be missed. She could/
still comment to friends.
AND
Some fight unfaithful/
lovers. Others get replaced/
by technology.
AND
If porn is wrong ‘cuz/
it subs for intimate love,/
what is device talk?