andrew61

Confessions of a Slacker
2017-04-21 00:00:00 (UTC)

Poetry… Pineapple… and Patrick.

Just as I’d hoped… he was at the Poetry Workshop that his girlfriend Leanne facilitated tonight at the Library.

I went in feeling a tad awkward. I’m going to be interacting with my crush’s girlfriend! I’m going to have to really be on guard and keep my cool. She mustn’t find out.

There were a handful of us present. Patrick was the last person to show up, right after we started. He sat in the vacant seat right next to me. It was so good to see him again.

And he got to hear a poem I wrote. And I got to hear his.

We each had to choose a favorite vegetable or fruit, then spend a period of time just randomly writing anything that came up about it, focusing on three questions:

1. What does your choice in produce say about you?
2. What does it represent?
3. Does it make you think of someone else?

Afterward we took a stab at putting our thoughts and feelings into poetry form.

We each read ours out loud to the group. When it came my turn, I expressed misgivings that my poem might be “retarded”, or “just a bunch of BS”.

But after I read it, Leanne pronounced it “awesome”. (This is a woman who teaches creative writing at a community college, by the way.)

All in all, things turned out well considering I was interacting with both my crush of eighteen months and his girlfriend. But seriously, although I still like Patrick a lot, I no longer really desire a sexual or romantic relationship with him. I just want to be friends and enjoy his company. All this to say I was able to relax.

Anyway, here’s the poem I wrote:

PINEAPPLE

Rough and mysterious
Tawny and impenetrable
You possess an exotic beauty not easily found
I know there’s sweetness and sunniness underneath that tough, dark exterior
But to experience it I have to figure out
a way to get inside of you

I have experienced your intensity, though
It feeds my sensual nature
and my burning desire for things exotic
and far from ordinary

You are so contradictory
Yet your contradictions somehow complement each other
You amaze me
You make me euphoric
I cannot quit you
I keep wanting more

If I had ever lived within bright yellow walls
What kind of person would I be?




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