I'll Get Over

I count the seconds it takes... for the earth to revolve around the sun. I count the number of sesame seeds sitting atop my bun. I count the number of times I blink within a day. Counting is how I spend my time...now that you've gone away.

I ask why the sun doesn't orbit the earth. And why the lives of many is devoid of mirth. Is the person always right that rises above the fray? Questions are all I have since you've taken everything else away.

I've written ninety words thus far—I'm... still... counting. Why am I still counting, when my feelings didn't count when you decided to leave me?

But I'll get over you.

I'll visit my local library to check out books on the Great Depression, and I'll read Anne Frank's diary to see how she managed in a bad situation. Thumbing tales of bravery, I'll learn to live life without trepidation. Eventually...

I'll get over you.

I'll learn to speak of us in past tense... and not be bitter. And when my friends look at me and see my eyes are drenched, I'll say to them, "I miss her." There'll be times when I sit in dead silence, Polaroids littering a floor you once traversed, expecting you to rise from their permanence and allay the pain that hurts. But I'll learn only time can do that. I'll learn, eventually...

...to get over you.

—Kevin Waring

New Year Haiku

Happy New Year, Friends,
We survived another year,
Let's wassail the next...

—Kevin Waring

Taking Chances

I dip my toe in to test you...
I make creases upon your surface,
Not to age you quickly,
But rather to touch you before it's too late,
Before the sun and moon platoon
And the tides come to drive me away.

I erect a sand castle on your bank,
A maquette of our future home,
Won't you lap its edges,
Gently molding its pillars to the soil?
It'll have bowers for you to retreat to
If I'm ever too suffocating;
But know all I've ever wanted was to hold you
In a place we can call our own.

You're visual ecstasy—
The paradigm of natural beauty,
Muse of Homer,
Domicile of Neptune,
And of labyrinthine reefs
And mythical creatures,
Sunken treasures—
Too decorated to have me as an ornament...

But still I dip in my toe to test you,
And having seen the ripples,
I can say I touched you
Before it was too late...
That I took a chance with a monolith
Before the sun and moon platooned,
And the tides came to drive me away.


—Kevin Waring

Tonight (When the World Ends)

Oceans evaporate,

Volcanoes erupt,

Blue skies interpolate the basins

Where waters have dried up,

There is no escape

From the phenomena that affrights,

So lose yourself in me

For the world will end tonight.

The woods, they'll smoulder,

Crops will slump

Like a boxer does in his corner

After taking one too many lumps,
But for them, there is no succor,
Nor another round to fight,
So stand tall with me
When the world ends tonight.

Nowhere to hide
From that which affrights;
But you'll be by my side
When the world ends tonight,
And though the crops have died,
Tears won't afflict my sight,
For all the nutrition I need,
You'll give to me tonight—

And though we're about to die...
I have no grievances to cite,
For all the love I needed,
You gave to me...tonight.


—Kevin Waring

Into the Wilderness

The path you’ve chosen is challenging—
It is of the lesser traversed:
The trees that abound are imposing,
And something in its shadows always seems to lurk,
Although they provide a nice canopy
For when ominous clouds are wont to burst,
Reassurance offers greater security
When things go from bad to worse.

And when that happens,
When you feel you can no longer endure,
Illuminate the sky with the brightest, red flare—
I will hear your cri de coeur.


You love hot tea,
Hopefully you’ve got some in your thermos,
For when cold ensnares your tiny body,
You’ll need something warm to hold to you close;
Let it spur your insides,
Singeing, even, your underclothes,
Until you’re a human bolide,
Leaving ablaze trails in your afterglow.

And when woods are alit
By a barreling mystique,
I’ll know you’ve opened the soffit
Beneath where your bones creak.

Because beneath that luminous exterior
Lay a spirit that looms larger than those trees,
And a heart ten times warmer than any estival breeze;
You embody the fervor of a raging river,
Churning as it thrusts unto where it empties...
And like the body... to which it delivers,
Your potential, too, has limitless boundaries.


—Kevin Waring

You

You get to kiss her,
You get to hold her hand,
You get to watch her stir,
As you're perched upon her nightstand,
And I believe wholeheartedly,
Nothing offers a more breathtaking view,
Switch places with me,
For I'd give anything to be you...


For a day assume my anguish--
Let it prick you like a bed of needles,
Til each incision begins to hemorrhage,
And all you bleed is everything you feel,
Even then you won't understand,
No not even a skosh,
That though your names may be etched in the sand,
I'll always love her the most.


You...lucky guy...you.




- Kevin Waring

Three-Legged Race

Peering into the future,
Our backs squarely to the past,
Downward we glanced at our legs bound together,
And started tentatively at the gun’s blast.

Slow and steady is most prudent,
It is not about speed;
Alternating the roles of teacher and student,
Is perhaps the best way to succeed -
But in a partnership where no roles are permanent,
I FAILED TO TRULY LET YOU LEAD -
Never could I have not been so insistent,
And all I can say to you now is, “Please, don’t leave.”

I am tempestuous...
The minute, I’ll cavil...
Putting up with me has been arduous,
But I beg not to let what binds us unravel -
I’m not thinking about the finish;
My only concern is to reconcile,
For winning is second best -
Second best...to seeing my friend smile.

I want to say that I’m sorry,
For lately I’ve made you do the opposite,
I know you’ve a lot to deal with daily,
Without having to put up with my bullshit -
You know these three-legged races aren’t easy,
But we’ve come too far to quit...
You’re leery?
Filled with regrets?
Give me another opportunity,
And, hopefully, I’ll change that mindset.

I KNOW YOU’VE A LOT TO DEAL WITH DAILY,
WITHOUT HAVING TO PUT UP WITH MY BULLSHIT,
YOU KNOW THESE THREE-LEGGED RACES AREN’T EASY,
BUT WE’VE COME TOO FAR TO QUIT...

Seeing as how I couldn’t care less about winning,
Can we please take it back to the beginning?
The journey back can also be the beginning going forward,
And I promise this time to be less untoward -
To be more understanding...
To let your foot plant before mine on the seward...
I love having you on my team,
Losing you, I cannot afford -
I do apologize for any wrongdoing...
Please don’t leave whose life you’ve transfigured.


- Kevin Waring

12.30.11

Night has fallen…

Tightly, I press my cheek against the pillow,

Close my eyes even more tightly and imagine,

The next time I’ll hear your voice say, “Hello,”

For some time has passed—

I just know the month ended in -ber,

And it's ironic the time gap is that vast,

For every time I think of it, I can't help but to shiver…

Time, silence and distance,

A deadly trio when working in concert,

And on it, I won’t dare write a treatise,

But know, if it has its way, in the end I’ll wind up getting hurt…

I’ve lost too much in the past to lose again—

I have no choice this time but to win.

— Kevin Waring

I'm Not Leaving

Rain was falling the size of pistachios,
The ground was muddy enough for a sow,
But lie over truth I regrettably chose,
And I was not leaving 'til she heard me out;
At her window, I cast pebbles,
An old pen that'd run out of ink,
I'd stand all night in the cold—
I couldn't care less if I got sick...
So let the rain varnish my skin,
Until the rain itself becomes my shroud—
This weather won't dampen my determination;
I'm not leaving...until she hears me out...


—Kevin Waring

Beaucoup de Miles

You're not a walk down the street,

Nor are you a trip across town;

The path to you is with obstacles replete,

But I'm going to make it there someway, somehow...

I've estimated the distance,

Out of curiosity's sake,

And even if I readjust the coordinates,

Over 400 miles still would separate -

Now, some would think the journey too onerous;

But the reward would more than compensate,

For you're the only you I know in existence,

And you're worth tempting any fate.

So, no, you don't live next door,

And you're not a "stone's throw away";

The path is long to the Jersey shore,

But I'm going to make it there somehow, someway...

This time last year...I was reeling;

The victim of a great deception,

I was on the verge of numbing all feeling -

Becoming completely deadened to human emotion...

That was before...YOU came onto the scene,

And so sweetly laid waste to that foundation;

Swiftly YOU scaled the scaffolding,

Deconstructing and dismantling,

Until all the barriers I'd erected were completely broken...

THANK GOD FOR YOU.

THANK GOD FOR YOU.

THANK. GOD. FOR. YOU ♥

YOU are the greatest you I know in existence,

And were worth tempting the fate of a repeat outcome;

However, a part of me still awaits that instance,

When things end abruptly

And I'm left brokenhearted...and feeling dumb -
That's why I agonize in prolonged silence,
That's when I lose my aplomb;
Whenever there's a break in correspondence,
I fear our friendship is on the verge of becoming entombed.


So, never let it die...
Or be prematurely laid to rest -
Don't send to dwell above the sky,
What has given me so much happiness;
Don't let me let things go awry -
Correct me before I create a big mess,
And... lastly...
I hope you, lovely, have a wonderful Christmas ♥


Though you don't live down the street,
Or a "stone's throw away";
The path to you may be with obstacles replete,
But I'm going to make it there somehow, someway...




Until then, in my life, stay.




- Kevin Waring

Ode to 'The Beginning'

Through the cacophony,
Interspersed with the voices of others,
I heard yours call out to me so clearly,
One I hadn't heard in seemingly forever,
And though 'twas only my name you bellowed,
It immobilised me, still,
For few voices are warmer than a meadow,
Awash in the light of summer crepuscule --
I turned round to be addressed,
By which time you'd already turned and run,
I knew then my pursuit of you I had to arrest...
And let you live your life without interruption.


- Kevin Waring

Together Bound

School and work keeps her busy--
A twosome with whom I cannot compete...
Sometimes I wish I could be the items she counts in inventory,
Just to be within arms' reach;
Or the computer she uses to type essays,
Then, I would always require her attention,
Her eyes transfixed to my display,
Like it offered a glimpse in to the Kingdom of Heaven...
Perhaps the pencil she uses to create,
Astonishing works of art,
Together bound for however long it takes,
Until that final mark...
Together bound...
until...


- Kevin Waring

Moves Like Potter

They saw our lights on...
"How come yours are...and ours aren't?"
"I've got moves like Ron."


- Kevin Waring

As Is

Yesterday I caught the garter,

Is it really true, what it signifies?
Will it only be a matter of time before I’m standing at the altar,
Peering into a pair of hopeful eyes?
Will I be able to provide adequately? -
I think maybe I should become a developer,
Get a stake in a tech company,
And, in a few years, retire a millionaire;
We’ll have a summer home in the Hamptons,
A phalanx of yachts to moor -
Vistas from impromptu excursions,
Will ensure life won’t ever be a bore...
But what if none of these things entices,
And, simply, life with me suffices?
What if I’m enough, as is?

- Kevin Waring

She Is Ambitious

From Sunday to Saturday,
Sunrise to sunset,
The most exemplary work ethic is displayed,
And I don’t know how she does it,
Work, school, work, school -
Always one or the other,
Leaving no void in her schedule,
And hardly any time for leisure;
Though downtime is elusive,
Rarely does she complain;
She gives all a person, of themselves, can possibly give,
Even if she gets nothing in exchange,
Because she is selfless,
She is ambitious...she is ambitious.

- Kevin B. Waring

Power

The power came and went,

Like a candle flickers before it’s spent,
And I knew at some point later that day,
Irene was going to take our power away.

Where I live, power outages are the norm,
Even without the presence of a storm;
But this here storm was a behemoth,
Having lashed us when her potency was at its zenith.

Around noonday the electricity was gone -
And by day’s end, so, too, was my religion,
I blasphemed God, doubted His power -
Especially when hours passed without response to my prayer.

God, are you even there? was the sentiment I expressed.

The next day was the Sabbath,
And I ventured out to witness the aftermath:
In the lot was debris, and a fallen branch I drug aside,
It was like a beach littered with flotsam brought in by ocean tides.

Noon marked one day without electricity,
And my cell phone had long run out of battery;
My mother’s - whose had passed us through the previous night -
Was on the verge of having read to it its last rites.

Later that day, however, we were fortunate,
To visit houses flowing with electrical current;
We got to charge our phones, eat a hot meal,
For awhile escaping a situation that seemed unreal.

But it wasn’t long before gravity rended us from our delight,
Back to reality - we couldn’t decline the invite,
At night, the darkness and silence encapsulated us -
It was like having been buried alive inside a sarcophogus...

Monday morning came. No power.

Afternoon came. Still, no power.

I told a neighbor:  I’ll gather my boys, you gather your girls,
And we’ll storm city hall like it’s the Bastille;
She laughed affectedly -
But I think she was high anyway...

I doubt I would’ve stormed city hall;
But the situation made it hard to remain civil,
Earlier that day we’d thrown our spoiled food away,
And the crews restoring power
Seemed to be doing so with delay.

Yet - a little after 3 o’clock - something remarkable happened,
And it caused me to cast aside all my suppositions:
Through the blinking clock radio and hum of the refrigerator,
I knew then that our power had been restored!

I went outside to spread the news,
Like a pastor descending the pulpit to the pews;
However, everyone was already made aware -
In an instant, THE CRISIS WAS OVER.




- Kevin B. Waring

L.A. Story

I read about your state in the newspaper;
The article read that it wasn't safe,
And, immediately, I thought of you...
I wondered how close you were to danger -
If it was staring you directly in the face,
If you were in need of rescue...


I can see the streets soused in crimson,
Carrying the slain in its current,
This is the fate of the men and women,
Whose drug dealer doesn't receive their payment -
Many a life is taken,
And many times, unfortunately...
It's the lives of the innocent.


You said you can't leave home unaccompanied -
It's just that dangerous,
And for this reason alone, to God on high I plead,
To be your armor, your aegis;
As you traverse a city by violence besieged,
I pray that He bestows you with providence,
That, from the grip of vice, Alagoas is someday freed...
And the forces that affright, like floodwaters, recede.


Together we'll turn the tide...
Through perseverance and prayer,
One day...you'll be able to step foot outside,
And not fear being caught in someone's crosshairs;
No longer will you need a guide -
A second shadow that follows you everywhere;
But until these dreams become realized,
In the meantime, know that there will be an answer...


Let it be, let it be.




- Kevin B. Waring

Foul Mood Descending a Staircase

In the basement doing laundry,
My mother had no clue,
That her toddler son had turned the lock to the door leading thereto.

I heard footsteps ascend the stairwell—
Methought, “Mom is on her way back!”
But I noticed that the doorknob had begun to jiggle—
Accompanied by a voice in panic:
“Open the door!” my mother yelled,
“Open the door!” I mimicked—

You’ve heard of Nude Descending a Staircase?
Well, my mother was a foul mood descending a staircase,
Trying to find recourse in an unsavory situation.

Outside, a stairway ran alongside the house,
From the cellar to the main story;
Atop the flight was the door that led to the kitchen—
Where I was…and where my mother, also, wanted to be…

So those stairs my mother scaled,
With a swiftness that belied her age—
But ‘twas to no avail;
That door was, too, locked,
And served only to further stoke her rage—

Thus, an even fouler, moodier mood descended another staircase…

Seemingly left with no alternative,
My mother returned to the basement,
A victim of my mischief—
Though I claim I was innocent;
However, that claim would soon be proven ineffective,
As the door miraculously opened upon her final ascent…

…at which point I received the flogging of my young life.

—Kevin B. Waring

Tom and Alicia

She rode on his bike’s handlebars—
They’re as steady as a dangling limb;
Side-to-side she swayed, like a boat on choppy waters,
Moving to an unknown rhythm.

She screamed…

Barely could she distinguish her surroundings;
All she saw was the colours,
Like being inside an abstract painting—
An anachronism in the world of its creator.

There was a chill in the air;
Feeling her shivering, the boy said to his girlfriend,
“Hold on, baby, we’re almost there.”

They were going to a clinic;
Alicia had gashed her leg on the concrete,
And Tom—with his own hoodie—fashioned a tourniquet,
Hoping it’d provide some semblance of relief.

By not wearing his hoodie,
Tom himself could’ve gotten sick—
But to him, continuing to wear it would’ve been a far greater risk.

When they finally arrived,
Tom held the bike upright,
And put Alicia’s arm around his neck;
Gently he picked her up, carried her inside,
His face wrought with fright,
As they approached the front desk—

“M’am, my girlfriend hurt herself—
Please—PLEASE HELP!”

The receptionist called the physician,
And they were told he’d be with them shortly—

Sitting her on his lap, he held her hand,
Rocking her comfortingly,
At which time she said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” replied he;
“You think you’ll have better transportation…
When I’m pregnant with and set to deliver our baby?”

“I hope so!” he laughed. “I’m going to try.”

—Kevin B. Waring