Where NORM went by Barbara Ellen Meyer (Meyer-Spidell)

I wrote this poem in 1993. To date, I have had much of my poetry stolen, but I found an old copy with alot of notes scribbled allover it, and this must NOT be the final edit. So bare with me as I attempt to unscramble this piece on Domestic Violence. It was written in Benicia CA, when I lived ot 510 E. 'L' Street #14, Benicia, Ca 94510 , as a wife and Mother....across from Gordon's Bar....where I used to sing Karoake, and get knocked off the barstool in public, by my husband, when I went past my alotted hour, yet was only on my second beer. You see, I would put up my .75 cents for a tap beer---get on the list to sing---and then often, after I was finished, a few people would line to buy me a beer, as I was quite talented and young, and once when Gordon the owner bought me a beer, my husband came storming in and knocked me down, off my stool, to the ground. I had not been talking to anyone and certainly not flirting...maybe just joking around with old Gordon and his old lady, Linda. I write a bit about them later, when I find that work. That night, I was not doing anyone any harm....but I was late. We eventually divorced. I committed to writing a series of poems on domestic violence. Here is one of them---not entirely in order, as I have suggested, a few times, remember I have been ripped off---my target, my books of poems.... jealous bastards. Oh, also, as a side note, I remember re-editing this poem and adding the connotated * parts. So if you see this * that means I added that part up from 1 1/2 years later to maybe even 4 or more years later, if not more. I had a good copy of the old styled one recently, but it got stolen...again....did I say 'jealous bastard'? No, I am not being paranoid, nor losing my mind, read on...



...where Norm went.
Where did he go?
I saw him vanish, curiously so....
It was as if he escaped the back way
I thought he'd reappear the very next day.

In as streetwise as he'd gone out
I knew he hear my side, if only I'd shout
so I shouted
till my chords coarse
in defense

and I shouted
till my voice hoarse
with dramatic suspense

'Norm always'd conceded to that.'
He'd drop his head
He'd take off his hat.

*He'd see where he'd been wrong, and
*in the same muttled gray room,
*we'd tap our 2 feet to very different drummers
*of a very different song.

Where was The Norm?
I no longer cared to say,
for he stopped returning the very same day.
The norm that I longed for was completely gone,
the leaving inspired a doubtful blue song.

*strum

"There is no merry facade.
Brick by brick. Even. Odd."

The magician within Built a topple ready wall.
Posing fiercely, yet ready to fall.

*The drummer I heard thumped a slow and steadily timed pace.
*She'd muster a frantic rythym, when Norm would show his shadowed face.

*At first the drummer was exhilerated, Norm was a powerful symbol.
*Clashing Clash Clashing

Each leaving in the past, less crueler than the last
Until I could no longer remember a less violent past.
Where was the norm?
This time it slammed the door.
Whore.
What norm ever was I had forgotten.

'Who does this Norm think he is anyways?'
I'd growl as if to say, "I've my less doubtful blue song and you can't touch.'
Oh, that time, 'It didn't hurt too much.'

*My timing ticking cleaner
*Her, how precise.
*'I'm as strong as you, though just a wife.'

My wall?
I had added support; I built it higher,
stronger, and with ricochet report.
I'd cower on the other side, subconciously,
one might say, nonetheless,
I silently plead, 'Norm, you can't treat me this way.'
Softly and Seriously I spoke. I no longer yelled.

*Until her drummer within would lie her sticks down
*Chanting Chant Chanting
*'It's raining Its Pouring, Kill him While He's Snoring
*Laughing Laugh Laughing