Almost A Poem Poem by Sidney P. Roberts II

Her name was Beautiful and if it was not then I care not nor
render apology because I called her that constantly for it
was true. And I before you standing here this blue morning
while the moon pales away lean forward to touch your cheek
and say the old Man I speak for is true and as such values
truth. And when I cannot speak truth he insists I speak not
a word at all. And to this I do comply best as I can. So,
beginning now the only one of it’s kind, this fair 27th day of
the sixth month of this the 38th year given me by my mother
and father, I speaking truth or remaining silent swear intent
to continue marching in this manner till I die. There is much
more which guarding silent I do not share. But speaking what
I can I tell you now. This is the story of Beautiful.

She was from an island, you know, in that deep green water
east and south of Florida. Third one I have met in my years.
All three beautiful, but not Beautiful. Only this one. And as
such so did I have not much choice in how to dub her. I would
say hello Beautiful how may I serve thee. And I would look at
her dark eyes and take good hold of her dark body and pull
it to me roughly to kiss repeatedly best I could with little
restraint or control.

“As dark as I am, she says to me, as
dark as I am the way you grab me it’s going to leave a bruise.
And for a moment I think of my heart and do not say me
too.”

Awake approaching 2am as all my kind I read this by
candlelight on a scrap of paper I find a young kitten battling
with on the floor crumpled in a corner. Something I heard
her say and scribbled and hoped would someday become a
poem. Thrown there one foggy night some time long ago or
recent, I cannot remember. Remnants of another one. To be
smacked by a combat kitten the middle of the night as time
goes by for no other reason than to satisfy instinct. As I
continue left right left through pathless wood my wander.
Almost a poem.

But reading it I think you know I rather like taking hold of a
woman and how as a boy I never knew I liked it at all until I
was taught it. By women. By this woman and that woman and
the other woman. Who when I was gentle said to me in so
many lusty words things like I’m not a china doll take hold of
me beast be rough harder I like it. But that night I did not
tell her these thoughts. I only said I don’t know I kinda like
to take hold of a woman. And to this she turns away showing
me her back after telling me I’m not a woman I am so and so.
She then repeats her name which is such a beautiful name it
pained me I could not use it to address her as it was not the
diminutive she introduced herself by because she thought it
not so pretty. And now with praise correctly so she has
confidence and speaks it loud and proud. But I still cannot
call her by it. It was not who I knew her as and calling her by
the perfect name her parents gave her I would only feel like
an actor. And being an actor is denying myself. And denying
myself is a mortal sin in the Church of Sidney Roberts. So at
that moment I call her Beautiful because she is Beautiful
and say I’m sorry I won’t do it again. And I didn’t. I touch
softly then the arm I touched roughly a moment ere. Then
no more words and we sleep. I wake with her nightmare like
an earthquake and wake her from it and hold her and we
sleep again. This continues awhile. But soon, this or that
reason made me send her the way of the gun and the way of
tobacco and the way of children and of love and all those
other things no longer allowed. And then I reneged, to which
she sent me that same way which I always knew eventually I
would go. For I too am tobacco and I too am child. I too am
love and I too am the gun. So to the banishment I looked at
her and said so be it. And therefore back again with my
notebook mistress I plodded along and got back to the
business of speaking for that safe old Man who in troubled
times I speak for.

She came looking for me though. In about a month. In the
poetry section. As I was sitting on the floor legs stretched
out with my heroes all in my hands fantasizing military
operations about assaulting the store and stealing them all
away. I heard something and I looked up and saw her right
there in front of me. She stood all smiling perfumed and
pretty with perfect hair and shaped as she was like a thing
you just have to touch. And in a white dress of all colors.
White. And how she thought she might find me here and how
was I and did I get her messages and how she heard I had a
new book Sidney Roberts congratulations on that. She was
so happy for me and she wanted to read it let’s go get a
drink, she says. C’mon. And when I all shaking and confused
listened and heard the old man say there is no choice but to
deny her young man I denied her. Polite. But straight and
true because I had to do it the old Man spoke. She got very
quiet then. Looking at me there Beautiful as ever but
surprised and no longer smiling casual and very quiet. Well
join the club, I thought. Just join the club. And when she
quickly walked away I thought, almost created something
there. Almost a poem. Almost. And when the old Man said to
me that almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,
I said well. Then I guess that's the end of that.