Harmless Cruelty

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there are things
you never quite understand
answers you’ll never find

go figure
scratch your head
of course, dumb-head
it’s got to do with either god or women
they are alike
and I am talking about women
god is not my genre types

she knew it all along
like a fool, I’ll stare at her every night
fancy we’ll meet again…
wicked in black and white
call it monochrome?
alright, I’m a poet
please give me some respite

tall, high cheekbones, sharp eyes
she came to me
i was on the other side
“come with me” she said

now don’t ask me why I didn’t ask a thing
and followed her uptight
my brain gave up on
sweated out
i walked half a step behind

“can you drive?”

“yeah”

“you got a cigarette on you?”

“yeah”

“you smell of booze”

“yeah”

i never lie
to God or women
keep my advice

we reached her car
she gave me the keys
asked for a smoke
she lit with her lighter
my match box she didn’t like
she took a drag and said
“i got a busted tyre. replace it with the spare wheel”

Can you believe that?
i was in shock
rage ran through me
“don’t mess with me lady”

no
i didn’t do any of that
not a word I said
did as told

“take a picture of me”

i took a picture of her
then she drove away
and I look at her picture every night…

76 thoughts on “Harmless Cruelty

  1. Arjun
    Most interesting. I like how you weaved all that together. Very auspicous idea.
    you have an interesting mind. Wonder what Psychiatrist’s would say?😀
    Your friend
    Yisraela

    • They have a one track mind. Forget psychiatrist, doc, my dentist too told me – quit drinking😀
      Just writing Yisraela. Writing what I think I should, I hate to preach but entertain with the right message weaved in, infuses my mind to travel strange places for unusual story ideas.
      I’m glad to have you as my friend. Thank you!
      Warm Regards.

    • I think she exactly knew what she was doing.
      She gave me a piece of her. Let me have her picture. Here was I with a camera, a street photographer. She thought out a perfect barter. Not to drag Richard Guest in here, but I’m sure he’ll agree.

    • Cause it’s pointless, dumb on a man’s part to lie. The fact is when he steps in his house, a woman knows. She can smell it, see the blatant truth in his eyes.
      Ironically, it’s the other way round. If a woman decides to hide, man will never find out, not in this lifetime, not any.

      • I agree with your statement and so would my husband. It is why I chose to be with a man rather than a woman. Men are also kinder generally speaking. I think it is hard to be a man.

        • it’s hard to be. I see no reason for comparison but neutralize. I’ve had mean experiences. You’ve read my shorts but human qualities can’t be generalized.

          • I cannot generalize. Either way when they say men are this and women are that. Doesn’t work with me. Look at my past, I’ve only attracted wrong women in my life including my mother but I consider them as individuals and a raw deal for me. I love people in general, that’s how I’d like to see things. Let them hurt me, I’ll write a poem about them, fair deal.

          • Yes, well, I need to protect my soul, too. Not only your poetry and photos, but your comments inspire me. Thank you and yes, I changed the photo, embarrassed.

          • Why? You looking gorgeous in there. Honest.
            Mail it to me, let me see you in proper size, stare at your picture…That might help me get over her!🙂

            And meantime decide which post of yours I should begin with. Pull my ear, drag me to your blog, lazy I’ve become..old grumpy man..show me some love, Ellen!

    • This encounter ends where the poem ends. What remains is the memory of it, we cling onto till the next encounter occurs. Mind needs bittersweet tonic to build castles of our emotions to fill in the emptiness within.
      A web of such past memories becomes our clutch and we’ll keep building new ones, refreshing older ones with new perspective. I’m glad you came by. Hows you today?!

      • A good description, as a web built of past/present/future memories, intricately knitting our lives and knowledge of ourselves…
        coughing still, couldn’t sleep, so did a poem at 4.44am this morning (strange time, which stuck in the memory)

        • You’ll be glad to know, my claim of recovery was a hoax call. My cough has returned, mighty and stronger this time, I suppose the experience of broken glasses was amiss. The texture of my voice is such, I think can take her eyes off my beer belly, make her fall in love with me!

          You should title your poem 4.44. Are we reading it today?

          • many thanks for the laughter your description caused… (I know it’s not really funny, but the state I’m in, anything is !!! ) and I am so, so sorry you’re stricken down by it .,, honest, wouldn’t wish the ‘Bug’ on my worst enemy. (erm,… strike that, actually I think I would, ‘cos I’m feeling particularly nasty the the mo😉 ) … My poem is on hold, ’til I answer the comments, … I always feel that’s the order of things … does that sound odd?.

          • Honestly, I don’t mind this nasty cough/cold once in a year. I’m like one puppy, demanding attention, my cook, maid, doc, chemist, veggie supplier, wine shop guy, everybody comes to my rescue, pamper me and then my conversations with god..”WHY ME?” I give him so much grief…

            That’s the order of things. I follow that rule myself. But there are exceptions like your post which has mostly “Get well soon” comments (barring odd few like mine😉 which we can return to on a later date)

            You can write a small note in your new post and that would be suffice, I think?!

  2. Pingback: Harmless Cruelty | Ta hendene til din kjære – se på dem og hold dem hardt Disse hendene skal du følge, leie og lede. Du skal få føle på varmen fra dem og kjenne en inderlig glede. De skal stryke deg og de skal holde rundt deg – de er ikke skapt

  3. Just brilliant! You always see life throught realistic lenses. Not blue like me or pink or grey… You see it for what it is, tragic and beautiful, sad and colourful… and sometimes panful like a kick in the gut…
    Well done brother!🙂

  4. That is really a beautiful poem Arjun. It prose flows smoothly, so that one’s reading flows with it. And all the information packed in the tightly constructed format says volumes. Oh, what the hell am I saying…. It’s a damn good poem Arjun. I liked it a lot.
    PS- Put her pic away and take a photo of someone else. The best one yet is always around the corner. Trust me on this & cheers~

    • You’ll glad to hear, I’ve read your comment more times than my poem🙂
      Her picture is in my mind and my mind I’ve let it be. Deal with it. The outcome is good. It’s a bleary face now and the sadness has shrunk to a moment of learning and being hopeful. Like you said, the best is around the corner. Cheers!

    • This poem is also a tribute to a special but distant friend, I believe I share a blissful relationship with, carton box dream of joyful moments which also means I can’t push it too far hence a bit of reality check.

    • Oh yes. A very difficult and attractive woman. But she came back later. Thing is I’m a funny, simple guy but I got dreams and everyone mistakes me to be gullible, I’m not. I’m a poet and you never tell a poet what to do. Accept what he gives with grace and respect that.

    • I’m a big fan of Jim Morrison. Speechless, what do I say…Whoa
      I was really upset when I turned 30. Cause I was alive and I’m 38 now, dragging my life. James Dean and Jim Morrison, my two all time favorite icons passed away much before touching 30. They did what they had to, so early in their lifetime, born talented. And me, I picked up my first book when I was 29. That’s when I knew, fate gave me a “Ass” deal.

  5. According to me the people are gullible and not you, and maybe you’re of good faith and you just want to like like many other people to experience an emotion that can expire in a negative or positive sense (you can’t know) in your love life but that is part of life risks, they keep it exciting and you learn there also still from ……… is it not fine !🙂

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