Ayleen decided to bake a cake. I mean, what else was there to do on a cold rainy day? Besides, her boyfriend, Rodney, was coming to dinner. There was nothing different or special about that but Ayleen thought that to finish with a delectable dessert might sweeten the reality that she was going to announce: as far as Ayleen was concerned the relationship was over.
Ayleen had good reason for it. They had never fallen in love; it was a relationship of convenience. It was “someone to take out”, especially if a group of friends went out partying. But now, Ayleen thought that having a relationship of convenience was a hindrance to finding the right person. Who is going to invite her out if she is already attached? This business with Rodney has to end to make room for whoever was around the corner.
The cake baking went satisfactorily. It was a blueberry yogurt cake. She’d used the recipe quite often. It looked nice enough. A slice of the cake with a dollop of ice cream would be an adequate introduction to her announcement.
Rodney was the fourth guy she’d baked a blueberry yogurt cake for in the last six weeks. When on earth would the right guy come along?
I have such a backlog of piano compositions to share with anyone who might want to listen, that I hope I’m not testing your patience. However, I want to get the music “out there”. I’ve already passed the age at which all 4 grandparents shuffled off, and am almost at my father’s age… So I want to make sure all the piano music was available so that it could disappear into obscurity on its own merits!
This Second Piano Sonata is a bit darker than the first and is a bit longer. It doesn’t tell a story as such, nor is it autobiographical. For those of you who want to listen but need some sort of image to help with this type of music, it maybe helpful to think of an abusive or disintegrating relationship, which by the 3rd movement starts to crawl out of the tunnel. With this in mind it doesn’t make for an overly pleasant listening experience, but it is a sonata and not music to be played in the supermarket to enhance the shopping experience!
The path from my front door
is lined with maybe more than flowers;
each bloom bud stands somehow
for love, or joyful vows, or truth…
Since ancient times virtues
lived nestled in a blue or red,
pink or white, petal bed:
love felt but never said, for fear;
the grace of rue; the cheer
of daisies; phlox that cares, adores!
And yet my pathway walk
is lined with silent thoughts, harsher
than thistles of a marsh;
despair that wilts and lasts; bereft
of hope, since when you left;
footsteps fading, heart cleft, too late
to lock the garden gate,
too late to hide the hate that seethes
along the path, in trees,
in flowers, in seeds, from my front door.
All day I think my ears will catch
the lifting of the latch.
(The form of this month’s poems is based on the Vietnamese luc bat).
Paul had a number of relationships that didn’t go anywhere. There was Aimee. She was pleasant enough, but was into her horse which wasn’t an animal that Paul could get enthusiastic about. There was Bethany. She was enthusiastic about her family tree, and in the end Paul knew that if he heard any more about her third cousin twice removed he’d go bonkers.
Someone suggested that Paul try a dating service online. They use computers to find suitable pairs. You simply register your details and next thing you’ll be chatting with someone who fits whatever. So Paul did that, and that is how he met Dawn.
Dawn was the one! They clicked together and all the days of the week melded into one. Every night they’d be chatting away online about this and that, and that and this, and everything in between. It was without doubt a match planned since the inception of the universe.
Dawn had a baby, about seven months old, and Paul said such things didn’t matter. He would treat the child as his own. Everything was going to be wonderful. They had never met in the real but it was on the cards. They hadn’t even swapped phone numbers. Who needs to when you chat online?
And then Paul’s computer broke down and he lost all internet connections. So that was the end of that.
Quite frankly I’m shocked. I put your name into a search engine and I’d now like to end our relationship. There are ways and means of doing things, and times and places, and you’d think that a modern person, such as you like to call yourself, could do better than that.
I was disgusted; I think more disgusted than I’ve been in a long time. I asked my father about it, and he said, “Dump her. Dump her as fast as you can say Jack Robinson.” So I’m doing that. I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore.
You must be the only person in the world left who doesn’t appear on the search engines. My father says if a person’s name don’t appear near the top by the age of seventeen they ain’t gonna do much else in life either. You’re in your late teens and I see you’ve achieved nothing. You could’ve at least have posted a photo or something. If you typed in my name you’d see I appear all over the place, and pretty sexy too I reckon. You’ve got to get up and go in this world today. You’re a nobody. Just remember that; a nobody, and always will be. All the best.