View Full Version : Poetry of a Timid Lover (1755 Words) ** Language—Mature Content**

November 2nd, 2016, 09:32 PM
Poetry of a Timid Lover

Unlike in my world, the not so smart one was I because it seemed to me that I hadn’t paid any bus fare when getting on, brushing towards people nearly punching someone in the face was this man, the bus driver. And shoulders of them, stomping towards me he pursued. I was reading my newspaper or so I thought was to start moving on this infernal bus but not to any expectation.

“Pay up please or leave.”

“Thought I already paid,”

“If this happens again I’m arresting you,”

“Got it, I’m sorry.”

“Benjamin this has to stop, don’t be forgetful my dear sir!”

The bus fare was paid and I sat down again after abruptly standing to pay the fare politely in my knowledge that it was the best solution to any attempt to pay it respectfully, that was the answer to any situation. Appropriately I sat down on the leather seat of the bus as it moved. Catching back to my attention of a girl who came over to me and spoke sternly. Her name though I had no clue but she seemed mentally challenged as if she was born with a disorder called autism and it seemed to be bad for the girl as I yet had most exciting thing of a butterfly fluttering out of me as if it wanted to ascend. Except through the wings of love and it seemed interestingly certain that I was enamored of her red hair, slender figure and this low bit of intellect. I wouldn’t say it’s a fetish but it is something that I dig quite a bit. She left and I had nothing to say as she went to school, she went to high school and on the contrary I did want to be a teenager due it’s immortal value the things you do in high school affect you up till you die. And it was fair enough that my experiences in high school were a blur, I’m only in my mid 30’s- I’m tall, chiseled face, simply fair looking like Benedict Cumberbatch. I’m a shy guy and it’s something peculiar, most men in their 30’s are muscular, confident creatures. I’m not those things, can’t say I can’t build those up I could if I wanted to. At work, it was boring; the usual nut-bolts and machinery is scary, when I try to get down to work I focus my energy on getting things done. When these long hours of work were at an end I decided to come to the girl’s house wanting to get to know her, she was teenager but likewise I wouldn’t observe my own lack of courage slip away over a fear of her being of a huge age difference than me. Though what would the parents say? Tonight, going home to dig through my papers to see that I was looking at the wrong article the whole time searching for her home. I saw her again but was walking home through my neighborhood. I decided to stalk her and see her home through the observation that carried me towards her abode. That will be my idea of where she lives in the maneuvering of hiding in the shadows of night. I had to be smart though so I blasted through the door jumping to a bush hiding away so she wouldn’t see me. I could just take cover driving at the same time pushing the acceleration petal with just the tip of my foot. I didn’t own a luxury such as that as cars were the reason that I have some skepticism about it largely due to its capacity for car-accidents recalls of the sort. As I walked down the street trying to not have her notice me the path began to curve. Hiding in another bush in the front yard towards a fence in front of the Verdeans. Quickly running away that I almost made a sound that the girl could hear but turned away jaunting a little further down the sidewalk. Damn! What the fuck did I do? And now how am I supposed to reach her now? Pestering I tried again this time finally trying to catch up to her and then her house was at my view she went inside looking to her parents that greeted her in. Went and introduced myself to the neighbor- well there not close by but they are relatively neighbors through and through.

“Hi, I was just in the neighborhood how do you do?”

They spoke vexed of me. “This time of night? Shouldn’t you be talking to us in the daylight?”

The father looked at this watch then looked back at me. “I’d say you better go.”

“Forgive me I was just out for a jog and couldn’t help say hello to the night crawlers in a good way of course ha-ha!”

“Well then that’s ok on our behalf, you have a good night mr-“

“Oh ..” I extended a hand to give them a shake.

“Benjamin, Benjamin Goldenberry,”

“Interesting name, are you English?”

“Well they say I look a lot like Benedict Cumberbatch.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t think we know of that man or boy? Is he a boy?”

“No… well that’s ok, he’s a brilliant actor if you didn’t know of his work, might I suggest you watch Sherlock or you could hear his sophisticated, yet sultry voice in the hobbit, salutations neighbors! A fine good night to you both!”

What the fuck? They never heard of the man? God and they say I’m the one who should leave, they need to leave their stupidity behind and grow a brain for once in their lives! They closed the door and as I came to look up, my eyes had finally gazed at this specimen and I was in awe of her ugliness and braces as she smiled back at me when I did the same as well. You remember when I mentioned when we spoke at the bus a day ago? The time she spoke to me was when I was being heckled by the bus driver and wanted to know about my newspaper I was reading? I lied I was reading poetry and I loved Victorian poets and I was intimidated in telling you the reader that I liked poetry and poets but the main issue is that the individual had caught me through the lie and left so suddenly to go to school but all in all it was good experience for a lowlife like me. Home sweet home and it was sleepy time for the loner such as myself.

The next day on the bus we began chatting up again and the secret came to me when I told her that I had the desire to be a teenager. She and I were not a match for each other or even in the eyes of society as we were deemed rightfully inappropriate to date and I would be in the hands of the authorities as a sex offender throughout the world-wide web and beyond the police station. But to my shock you would not believe what this little vixen did... she simply took off all her clothes as her retardation was getting to the point that her overly excited attitude of me was becoming outrages and absurdly revolting as she was testing to see my intentions towards her. And no teenager, adult or even a kangaroo would do something blasphemous as this. What the hell are you doing? Which by the way her name is Mimi Roberts, of course the timid person that is me ran out the bus after showing her boobs in front of my face and I scurried like a little boy away from this whimsical thing. Experimenting with your body seems like an easy trick to catch a man in the act in whatever he wanted but not me. I was scared shitless of the teen.

Another day came and I decided to skip work today because I wanted to surprise her in something and it required me to see her during the morning before school started. I woke up early and got brushing my teeth, my bad breath gone, white sparkling teeth? Here! Devoured some breakfast and got to meet up with Mimi. You might be wondering why in the world I am seeing her after that stunt of hers? Well that was the past and this is now, although I told her that she could have been arrested but hey she was the endearing one but stupid in the finest of her personality. I told her of the surprise and she was stunned but began acting the most retarded as possible.

“Why are you doing this? What makes me so special?”

“Are you retarded? We just talked of our love for each other!”

“Oh right! Yes, the retarded one is me,”

She went and kissed me “Forrrrggggiivvvvvveee meeeee!”

“So I love you, and remember no acting stupid alright?”

“You may see more lover-boy!”

“Fuck is wrong with you? Huh?!”

I told her about why I wanted to be teenager and those words she read through my poetry was superbly written when to her eyes. She enjoyed every bit of my work as she even recited just for her own leisure. And she thought I was player of some kind well that is surely not the case-but I grew worried for her when she hadn’t called in days and I tumbled over my mind was spinning out of control and I felt wobbly over the feeling that I wasn’t going to see her again. Does that make me clingy? Yes, that makes me so clingy that I decided it was best to just kill myself and be done with it. I’ll be her ghost looming over her if I wanted to be and I wanted to be her white serviette over her face since I’ll be white as a ghost and white like the snow that falls deeply through the winter wonderland. When I am dead I will recite some poetry for her that she just might hear voices in her head and she may be dead just for hearing it as a result for her insanity. Who knows maybe I’ll be her lover to her teenage existence. But for now, when she stepped over my front door I had a letter for her but in the form of a poem that will surely knock her down like a midnight bridge. Metaphorically.

November 12th, 2016, 07:23 PM
Well.... hummm... after your first 4 jumbled lines, I wanted to stop reading, but unfortunately I kept going...There are parts of this that I strongly feel should be edited completely out, because to me, they are offensive, and JMO, add nothing to your story line... You said the girl displayed "Autistic" traits, then went on to call her/ speak of her as "retarded"... yet you were attracted to her because of her "low intelligence" [ your words, not mine]... There could be potential here, I guess, if you pay attention to all of your SPAG issues, slow down and think before you hit the post button... You do have some good details... and some really good imagery... and it seems like you love to write, and you appear to have a unique imagination... maybe after you write your story, read it to someone who will be brutally honest with you, then listen to their feedback... Writing is all about telling a story, and telling it as coherent as possible. You are the guide, your reader is the passenger... make it an unforgettable, thrilling trip... ;)

November 12th, 2016, 08:13 PM
Yeah this story was a little rude and disrespectful but I found it in my laptop and I did do some editing to it and showed it to my brother. He found it weird.

November 12th, 2016, 09:05 PM
Yeah this story was a little rude and disrespectful but I found it in my laptop and I did do some editing to it and showed it to my brother. He found it weird.

There is nothing little about the tone. The narrator's tone is riff with ignorance and a shocking callousness. As a writer, a reader, I read this...And I can not stress enough the importance of taking the time to walk around in the reader's shoes to see this through their eyes.

I'm on the autism spectrum and I am also female, two strikes against me as a reader, so outside of the spelling and grammar issues, about all I can suggest is research the difference between autism and actual mental retardation. The two are not mutually exclusive, point of fact, history argues the opposite. Some of the greatest creative minds from Einstein to Mozart are thought to have been somewhere on the spectrum. A couple of decent resources: The DMS V and NeuroTribes by Steve Silberman.

Also, when you include colourful language and controversial content, you do need to add the warnings to your thread title.

- D. the T.