I used to take part in a weekly chat with members, mainly graduated members, of the usenet group alt.support.divorce or ASD. I had been talking with a young woman on the chat and we discovered an amazing amounts of similarities: geekiness; science fiction; music and much more.
We agreed to talk on the phone after chat ended and had a very emotionally intimate conversation. She told me that the issues in her marriage went beyond what I had been told previously: there had been abuse.
I had very strong feelings about our conversation, which lasted until first light.
The following poem is a Renga, a form of Japanese poetry that's usually written cooperatively. A Renga (from what I've read) consists of 100 lines, divided up into five-line couplets. The five-line couplets are further broken up into alternating three-line seventeen syllable haiku and two-line fourteen syllable subcouplets.
I wrote this alone in several hours and attempted to convey the cooperative spirit in the interweaving of chat night and the impressions of that with the conversation with the young woman.
There are a lot of obscure references in here that need explanation. I'll get to that someday.
Note: I read that every Renga should have exactly one mention of insects. So there you go....
----
Typing words of truth
Into an empty silence
Still, the words are there
Long, slow listening, learning
Telling tales of patient growth
It seems they compete
Who is the coolest tonight?
And the most aloof?
Interrupting is the dance
Their give and take tango moves
What is supported?
Why do they all show up here?
Something about love
Sharing tales of pain and fear
The bright shining heart unfurled
A group united
Like every group there is
By some idea
His tale of witnessed abuse
And the violence of words
They do share themselves
And some of their successes
As words fill the screen
Hers: pressed fingers, baby feet
Leaving their marks on her skin
Some leave to chase cats
Others drive to get ice cream
The group continues
Ethical slut? No such thing!
She keeps her eyes firmly closed
There are subgroups here
Private talks, secret sharing
Safely out of view
The ex does not care to know
That the love belongs at home
Communication
Is already difficult
Not typed in real time
Did I just say "does not care"?
There's a wall there, blocking it
Bits moving in wires
Conveying the feeble tries
To make connection
She likes this virtual world
Virtual people and all
Is this how it was
Before language? There were looks
And furtive gestures
He comes from a world long gone
In that, we are all the same
Trying to create
common ground, it gets compressed
And hard to grow things
How to understand the link?
Is analysis needed?
Out of the main group
Of F.A.Q.ers supreme
Refugees chat on
Connections of breathy words
Drawn out of asthmatic lungs
Divorce, the cheater
Simultaneously is
A chance to be new
As the talking progresses
A simple "Boop" brings a laugh
Ever new, the group
Contains the hopes and the fear
Of those who attend
Tears come to him suddenly
As the link is strengthening
Like some burrowing
Insects from a Heinlein book
Communities grow
He tells her of his feelings
And surprise! She hears his truth
Forming tunnels of
Connected human hopes and
Disconnected lines
There is a sweetness there too
"Black Sheep" is an idea
So we play this game
This imperfect game of friends
Moving through the world
He is deeply touched at heart
And yet needs to hold it back
The mating, baiting
continues from week to week
Closing Saturdays
Their tales draw to tonight's close
Open hearts freed up to speak
All of a sudden
It's over, in a big rush
The empty room rings
They are feeling tired now
The morning light appearing
They go to their beds
Alone, together, sweetly
caressing, or not
The final goodbyes are said
And he hangs up, bed-ward bound
