OUT OF INK
© Ronley Teper 2005

On November 16th at almost eleven it happened. There were no signs, no indication of wear or tear, unhappiness or despair. Suddenly at the letter e she disappeared never to be seen again. Oh this loss, I can’t so simply describe! As my favorite pen ran out of ink to no more fill these lines.

With panic and denial, I tried over and over again to revise her. Licking her ball pint tip. Pressing harder and harder. Ripping the paper she was making love to at that very moment. I’d been told it would one day happen. But who really listens at such moments when creativity is amassed from the 2% of my brain transferred to the power of my favorite friend.

She had made love to so many. White, lined, sometimes even grey or green; with her black tip and graceful font. Even when we thought there was no more room. No one cared that she had been with so many. In fact, it was celebrated and applauded of her tenacious power to seduce so many. Even off the paper and onto sikn where she would design little emblems so we all knew who had paid and we could let you back in the room

And her resilience to continue her acts, even after someone stepped on Lid her best friend, who had fallen on the floor of the café. The café where all her colleagues conspired beside mugs of coffee, and in the evening over candle light and red wine.

Sometimes she’d disappear for a time. Only to humorously emerge a few days later in a page of a book or in a secret pocked of a knapsack, or in the washing machine. She would laugh hysterically to herself as you would pull out a pair of undies grafted by her charms.

On November 16th at almost eleven, without any warning or signs of despair. My favorite pen ran out of ink.

Grey Hair
© Ronley Teper 2005

Look at it! Look at it! Oh g-d is this the beginning of the end? It’s so course and thick. It’s like it came out of nowhere. I called my mom in a panick. “oh darling yoru really a women now. I remember my first one. Whatever you do, don’t pull it out, because one will become two.”

Too Late!

Am I insane to have kept it? Framed it? I even tried to colour it in with permanent marker to see if it stuck. Guess what? It did, but after three washes the sheen is gone and I’m a “woman” again.

Does this mean I need to start wearing turtle necks?
I really should think about getting a haircut that makes me look more “distinguished”. And what about a comfortable pair of shoes? And a salary that surpases that of my expenses. Is the clock ticking or is it that I listened to to much loud music and now my ears have just started ringing? And don’t laugh, but a good pair of tweezers. And I never knew that hair could grow there.

How come I suddenly have some many keys. Months seem to go by as fast as weeks. I’ve got to start watching that my gums don’t recede. And it’s more about confidence than anything else. And it’s off the white bread and onto the spelt. Don’t forget to check once a month for any new bumps or welts. I never thought I’d yearn for the flavor of the prune. Am I doomed? Or just well groomed?

AFRAID TO TALK ‘CAUSE I DON’T LIKE WHAT I’M SAYING
© Ronley Teper 2005

I’m afraid to talk ‘cause I don’t like what I’m saying.
I know I sound like a nag
Like a North York nag “Like oh my g-d!”
But with a furry kitty “meow”

I’m afraid to talk ‘cause I don’t like what I’m saying.
So I’m writing this down
In these trying times to make myself feel better
And I hope that you go through my journal
So you can read what I cannot speak

Well I know
And I hope
That we grow
And we sew
As the violin bows
In loves tragic woes
Sometimes even towed
With the grass sewed mowed
We’d been told
Our souls unfold

We are in “Lovers Drama”
Well I’m afraid to talk ‘cause I don’t like what I’m saying.