"Girl in the FX" By Ralph Corleone

I was in my stalker mode when I wrote this at 6:30 in the morning on the way to class. Hey, it's not like I actually knew that Engineering girl that I was writing about. I just felt like trying to be sympathetic or something close to that.

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“Girl in the FX”

There you are, in the FX

sleeping, 6:40 in the morning

A girl from Engineering

your hair waving by the air conditioner,

Here I am in the confines of my car

looking at you, from a distance

A guy from Arts and Letters

used to the background,

You seem so close

sleeping near the window

The FX makes you shake

yet you remain unstirred

With no one to lean on,

you’re still in light slumber

but here I am, so far away

looking at you, from a distance

Perhaps I want to be the shoulder you can lean on

Perhaps I just thought you’re cute

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

What am I saying?

And now the time has come to say goodbye

I notice you’re awake, finally

Stirred by the sudden pothole in the road

My car overtakes the FX

Your face fading away among the crowd of passengers

Never will I see you again

Perhaps I wanted to be the shoulder you can lean on

Just for that moment, as I was

looking at you, from a distance

"The Things I Want" by Ralph Corleone

I decided to post the poem I had to write for poetry class last semester. Yes, it's original so I'm a little proud of it.

I had a really hard time writing it (since I'm a blogger and not a poet). But hey, the professor approved of these lines any thank goodness she did because that raised my morale about writing poetry (for a while).

Anyway, here's "The Things I Want"

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The things I want,

A beer with cola

A whiskey with ice

The day to leave with its sunshine

The night to drink with as company

The radio on a loop

“Strangers in the Night”

The dining table’s glass

The chair’s support

The things I lost

The window’s condensation

The sweat off my skull

Dripping

Down to my suit jacket

The lights glaring at me

The air conditioner slacking off

I see deep within the half-empty glass

The face I don’t want to remember

The face I’ve buried

With shadows and everyday people

Her smile flashes before my weary eyes,

Drawing me in like flame

A flame to my moth

But before the tip of the fire

Comes even close, her face is gone

The girl I like, the girl I once desired

The things I want

Wouldn’t even come close to her

Why do I want her?

Perhaps it’s her smile

Shallow, but sincere

Beyond common tabloid smiles

Or Stepford grins

Lust doesn’t seem present

Just whiskey and the heat

I have everything I want

Except her,

The girl whose beauty is beyond looks alone

With a smile as lovely as a flower

In full bloom,

She was my virgin, my empress

But she was distant

As far as the starless sky,

She was non-existent

From my sight and from my touch

As if she were on the peak
Of the world’s tallest mountain

But her smile still haunts me

As if it were a ghost hidden in the night

Slowly making itself visible

To her, I was a mere shadow

Hidden within the crowds of everyday

She brought sunlight to everyone

But I was on the other side of the world

Until I could exist

To her, somehow, someway

Her smile will haunt me

A reminder of the things I want

And how they can never replace her

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Well, that was average, right? I'll do an explanation of it on a later post. Until then, thanks for reading my first original poem.