Renga for Chat Night-May 2003

Typing words of truth
Into an empty silence
Still, the words are there

Long, slow listening, learning
Telling tales of patient growth

It seems they compete
Who is the coolest tonight?
And the most aloof?

Interrupting is the dance
Their give and take tango moves

What is supported?
Why do they all show up here?
Something about love

Sharing tales of pain and fear
The bright shining heart unfurled

A group united
Like every group there is
By some idea

His tale of witnessed abuse
And the violence of words

They do share themselves
And some of their successes
As words fill the screen

Hers: pressed fingers, baby feet
Leaving their marks on her skin

Some leave to chase cats
Others drive to get ice cream
The group continues

Ethical slut? No such thing!
She keeps her eyes firmly closed

There are subgroups here
Private talks, secret sharing
Safely out of view

The ex does not care to know
That the love belongs at home

Is already difficult
Not typed in real time

Did I just say "does not care"?
There's a wall there, blocking it

Bits moving in wires
Conveying the feeble tries
To make connection

She likes this virtual world
Virtual people and all

Is this how it was
Before language? There were looks
And furtive gestures

He comes from a world long gone
In that, we are all the same

Trying to create
common ground, it gets compressed
And hard to grow things

How to understand the link?
Is analysis needed?

Out of the main group
Of F.A.Q.ers supreme
Refugees chat on

Connections of breathy words
Drawn out of asthmatic lungs

Divorce, the cheater
Simultaneously is
A chance to be new

As the talking progresses
A simple "Boop" brings a laugh

Ever new, the group
Contains the hopes and the fear
Of those who attend

Tears come to him suddenly
As the link is strengthening

Like some burrowing
Insects from a Heinlein book
Communities grow

He tells her of his feelings
And surprise! She hears his truth

Forming tunnels of
Connected human hopes and
Disconnected lines

There is a sweetness there too
"Black Sheep" is an idea

So we play this game
This imperfect game of friends
Moving through the world

He is deeply touched at heart
And yet needs to hold it back

The mating, baiting
continues from week to week
Closing Saturdays

Their tales draw to tonight's close
Open hearts freed up to speak

All of a sudden
It's over, in a big rush
The empty room rings

They are feeling tired now
The morning light appearing

They go to their beds
Alone, together, sweetly
caressing, or not

The final goodbyes are said
And he hangs up, bed-ward bound

Valid XHTML 1.0 Strict Valid CSS!