Please join me in writing if you are so inclined. You don't have to post them, but if you do write I'd love to see one that your are proud of when the month is done or if you'd like to share them and don't have a place to do that---you can join me on my page!
I informed my hubby that it was poetry month and National Autism Awareness Month and then he listed all the things that organizations claim in April. The list is pretty daunting when put together.
National Humor Month
International Guitar Month
Keep America Beautiful Month
Lawn and Garden Month
National Pecan Month
National Welding Month
Records and Information Management Month
Stress Awareness Month
Confederate History Month
Financial Literacy Month
School Library Month
Earth Awareness Month
Math Awareness Month
He dared me to write a poem mentioning each of these or using them. I can't resist a dare. It took me about a couple of hours all told, but it is better then I thought it could be and not at all like the draft I roughed out in ten minutes.
Keep me honest and let me know if I missed something. I think I got it all at least in passing or spirit.
Bending
the Strings in Blues
Someone
once asked me
What
kind of bloke am I
That
I can’t take a joke?
“Take
a joke?” I quipped
I
informed him,”I was thoroughly equipped
To
find an unequal equation most humorous”.
He
thought I had great hubris
Then
I told him he didn’t understand
The
full meaning of that word
How
absurd to assign hubris to a humble school librarian
Whose
roots were completely agrarian
Going
back to the Civil War days
Harvesting
pecans for those who didn't deserve spit.
And
might I add, I had records to attest to it.
My
people sweated long days under the Georgia Sun
It
was no fun to be sweltering like a welder in a crucible
It
was cruel.
He
apologized commenting that he had no idea
That
his remark had triggered this litany of Confederate History
We
both starred at the lawn rich and green
Like
it would produce a transition to the scene
I
spied a flyer he had dropped and picked it up
Telling
him not to litter as it was “Keep America Beautiful” month
“Ah
yes” he agreed, “but it isn’t my flyer”
“What
does it say?” I asked “Is it a house buyer?”
“A
what?” he said like he didn’t understand the game.
“You
know, “I buy houses for cash!” Old Whatshisname”.
“No,
not that, “he said, “it looks like a flyer on financial literacy”
He
quoted,“Be all that you can be in the Money Ranker’s Army!
We
help you build the wealth in stealth
Taking
the stress out and increasing your health!
Check
our record, we will keep you unfettered!”
“The
information in those records must be overwhelming!” I stated.
“It
kind of stresses me out to think about,” he capitulated.
“Me
too,” I crooned.
“To
me,” he said,”to distress is a night out on the town listening to some smooth
blues.”
“What
would you use?” I asked straightforward.
“Pardon?”
he puzzled.
“What
is your preference?” I attuned.
“I
suppose,” he ventured “A sharp shootin’ fella belting out a GatemouthBrownesque tune.”
My
heart leapt,”And the axe of choice to give it voice?”
He
cast out, “A MartinD-28?”
“Or
a…a…” and our eyes met in that fateful state
We
exclaimed,”A Gibson Firebird!”
He
looked stricken and I stiffened as he inquired,
”Hey,
would you like to go out on a date?”
I
didn’t know what to say.
Did
he not see my autism? Had it gone away?
I
nearly ran inside to hide, but he repeated it and added this,
“Not
many women I know would know about the Firebird and I know this is absurd,
But
I like you with all your quirks. Please don’t think me a jerk.
I
was trying to ask you out all this time. A real date on my dime.”
“I
would like to say yes to your proposed meeting.” I stammered,
“You
often give me a nice greeting. I…I…I…will say yes to your request.”
We
made it to hear smooth blues,
He
told me a joke, “What did the guitar say to the guitarist?”
(Though
he had to explain it as he is the artist)
The
punchline is “Pick on someone your own size”.
I
laughed looking into his eyes.
Eyes
that see me as I am
Autistic,
intelligent and loving the same bands
I
know today I’ve made a very good friend
All
these conversations bridging our gaps
We
still go around in many laps
But
those blue notes still bend and bend and bend.
Clarence Gatemouth-Brown playing his Gibson Firebird and fiddle
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