Lisa

[smakpopy]

in general we don't need a poet to defend their work. usually poetry like anything creative is indefensible

I had not really intended or wanted to try explain it in detail, but since i have put it up for criticism i dont mind doing so.

Dont look at any of this as defensive, it just is.

I had grown up in an upper middle class area of white suburbia, on a hill with plenty of evergreen trees.

The gradeschool i attended was wildwood elementary, and the church i attended was celebration lutheran church.

I had only 2 or 3 friends who lived nearby, the area our house was in had nice big secluded lots with plenty of trees and space around.

Not that i didnt have neighbors i just didnt know alot of them.

Since preschool i had developed a tendancy to be upset when i was with more than one other child, at least thats what i am told.

At any rate, i was a very good boy, meaning i showed good morals, respect, and when i started the 1st grade i was astonished to find gangs of 3 or more boys going around the playground calling other kids names or doing dirty tricks on them, spitting, whatever.

It did not help that i was a head taller than most of the boys my age, not that being tall is bad, but being different was and likely is bad in the eyes of kids like that.

I was also able to absorb everything i was taught in class and regurgitate it at will, so i was the first to raise my hand, and if none of the other kids could answer a teachers question i was the one everyone turned to, to hear it.

i also had a natural talent for drawing, once i had drawn my pet cat when i was like 6 or 8 years old with pencil on paper, and by using alot of light strokes of the pencil with more defined lines at spots i was able to depict my sleeping cat as i layed a foot away infront of him. It was like a picture.

And later, i had made a valentine, i had found an anatomical picture of a heart and then drew it on the card and gave it to my mom. that was either before puberty or after i had given up on lisa, and ultimately all girls. i forget.

anyway im skipping alot but by the 3rd grade i had taken alot of notice of girls and women, i was hot for my 3rd grade teacher ms norby, but i was too good a kid to even consider it aloud. all that ended when she got married to wiederspan.

Around the same time, i had noticed the girls starting to mature, and of them all i thought lisa was the most perfect, visually anyway.

She was not skinny or fat, not tall, she had brown hair and wore her bangs a certain way in the front, and it was slightly curled, mostly straight hair but some slight twist to it where it hung down to her shoulders.

She had a southern accent, but because of the way boys and girls were kept apart if not by teachers then by peer conformity, i had little chance to speak with her.

that reminds me of the first day i went to school on the bus in kindergarten or 1st grade, i had gotten on the bus and the first spot i saw with room was like the 4th bench on the left, there was a little blond girl sitting by the window and i sat next to her.

The whole bus went oooOOOOoooo, most likely started by some of the older kids who wouldnt have it in them to even sit by a girl since they know "better".

Anyway, i started to just flat out stare by the 3rd grade and 4th grade. I would try to catch looks at lisa when she wasnt noticing, and glance away shy if she noticed while paying attention to her reactions.

The few times i tried to talk to her she got exasperated and went off with other girls on the playground, they must have been saying alot to her or about her because i was not totally hiding my interest in her.

I dont know why she never would talk with me, i guess it may have had to do with the fact i was somewhat of an outcast on the playground among the guys since i just walked around the track until the bell rang ending recess.

i would walk around it and just look at the ground a dozen feet ahead, it got to be a habit of looking down so much that i wonder if it contributed to my slight nearsightedness today.

I did one day write down how i felt about her on a note and used small tears and folds to make it look like a solid letter. Today i couldnt remember what i wrote exactly on it.

One day i tried a few times to get her to take it at school, at the end of the day on the bus home i couldnt stand it anymore and just dropped it in her lap over her shoulder from the seat behind, she got up and left it on the seat, i snatched it up and got off the bus since it was my stop, and i went home and cried hard.

From then on, i looked but didnt speak much, i went to school but didnt try hard in class, after a short time i just stopped going to church, and i started to spend more time playing video games like nintendo, computer games, reading fantasy books, watching movies and tv.

i was basically waiting, and hoping that somehow i would end up married and happy, if not with lisa then someone. But i never did anything that could even start a friendship, and since i was lumped in with the nerds, fat kids, and alternative types by jr high, i wasnt ever approached by anyone else for friendship.

I started skipping so many days in school that my senior year i was suspended during the final semester for non attendance, i didnt want the stigma of a 2nd year senior so i didnt go back, i just got a ged at a comm collage easily.

After that, i didnt do much, i stayed at home, sometimes i would get kicked out as they tried to make me work, once i was forced into going to collage or going homeless so i got a telecom degree. Once on a whim i went fishing in alaska and made alot of money quick, but other than that i just didnt work much, a handful of jobs and never more than 3 or 4 months at a time.

By the time i would have graduated from high school i didnt think much about lisa, there were other girls i adored but did and said nothing.

It may be my fear of rejection has forced me to live a life where fears are removed, i dont have to work, i dont have to worry about rent or food and i can continue doing my diversions of computer gaming movies and such.

but on the other hand i have so little. Compared to others i have nothing, and when im gone no one will remember me for long or with any great regret over my death.

In fact most people would say based on what i do, take, and give, im more of a parasite in the way i survive. Its what i do not do that really defines me.

So if as the first review talked about, this poem evokes a feeling of utter and complete loss, then i suppose in that way it is a success.

Question i got to ask myself is: Why share the writings of loss? Is it to make others feel worse? Is it to make others feel better at my expense? Does it make me feel better to let others know i have silently suffered most of my life?

Or is this just some complicated way for a virgin to fail at snaring a PUSSY to play with, that will fail?