Longing to raise children, a girl, a boy,

she offered a vocation of caring.

Hearing others’ happy news she’d force joy

yet cry wondering why she was barren.

As a vibrant woman in her twenties

you would think she was a fertile Myrtle.

She felt lone anguish without progenies,

her deprived, not blessed, to be maternal.

Put under for a procedure by scope,

a specialist examined internal.

She clung on with prayers and eternal hope

after all was found medically normal.

“Aren’t one’s babies just supposed to be?

Others get pregnant, and yet why not me?”

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

Coming Next: All Have a Plan (16/36) on April 17

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Welcome! This is the fifteenth of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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Modern eyes might think that she gave up all,

marriage over career she did prefer.

Exploring life together was her call,

not a bargain with the devil for her.

She found another job, banking HR,

nested her touches on our apartment.

For transportation she bought a new car,

and joined our church choir for fulfillment.

As newlywed months became blissful years,

she could not help being a bit chagrined.

A nagging question caused occasional tears:

for us when would family life begin?

She conferred with medical attendant,

“I’m young-wed wife! Why am I not pregnant?”

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the fourteenth of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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Married. Honeymoon. Then moved cross country.

She left behind Mom to start new chapter.

I picked the apartment she would soon see.

Yet would our marriage bring her the rapture?

Starting anew, she looked for employment

Before contending with sparse furniture

and crafting fun newlywed enjoyment.

About clueless husband, she was mature.

We spent time with friends and were church-going

and once even tried to teach her tennis.

Her patience pow’red through my clumsy showing.

As her sport coach she thought me a menace.

Being Catholic she didn’t resist,

raised Presbyterian then Methodist.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the thirteenth of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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Being generous I was a rough gem.

Out socially I was left in the lurch.

Then women didn’t rate me half of “ten.”

I wasn’t bad. At least I went to church.

God knows, still for some reason she loved me.

Good thing she did not give up on “we”.

I finally had clarity to see

I had to act if we ever to be.

It wasn’t a normal courtship per se.

When betrothed we saw each other but twice.

So six months later on our special day

Since engagement we had only joined thrice.

We chose. We acted. Best way to do it?

In coming years we worked our way through it.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the twelfth of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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Three years on. I’m twenty five. It is spring

and out of the blue she gave me a ring.

“Perhaps … was wondering … Can I visit you?”

Blink clarity! “Idiot! No answer you’ll rue!

If I say ‘No’ I may lose her.

But I don’t want to lose her.

But you are not dating her.

Then you will lose her.

I don’t want to lose her.

Then I better marry her.

Buy time! Not my normal, ‘No visit now.’

I have to reorder my life somehow…”

If I said “No” that would have brought sorrow.

I improvised. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the eleventh of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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A decade crisis: energy deprived!

How could our generation be ready?

Without foreign oil how would we survive?

For a young guy it was all quite heady.

Half-continent away my new career.

Returned for home visit. Not long did I stay

as a guys’ skiing trip was that week’s veer.

Yep, another dating faux pas replay.

Forgot her birthday. She typed curt letter.

Even worse, she typed out her signature!

Crap. Message received, “We are no better.”

A shot across bow. I mucked up for sure.

Yet, alas, did I change my behavior?

Being clueless male did me no favor.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the tenth of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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Are teenage years riddled with stress and fraught?

Who knows, though she shared her soul at the prom.

Fair to say, edgy that night she was not.

She wanted to be a teacher … and a mom.

With me it landed on infertile ground.

A boy in high school get it? Yeah, no way.

A tree in the wood fell a silent sound ...

Me thinking family? Some future day.

A teacher’s vocation doesn’t much pay

though she does sing perfect pitch with diction.

Low teacher’s wage was her widowed Mom’s way.

She went to study Communications.

Post college she found a job in HR

while her “boyfriend” left to get work afar.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the ninth of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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I never did have on my bingo card

to where our chat was ultimately bound.

I cracked myself open like pottery shard!

Do I bore my new friend in this airport lounge?

“I did like hearing ‘bout your teen rom-com.

I still don’t quite understand your new maths.

So sweet, even had marching band pom-pom!

Sorry, did you take different life paths?

She sounded sweet, a very special girl,

a bestie, a friend, a special sister.

Yet at least you both did give it a whirl.

But did you let her slip away, Mister?”

I spill my spleen. What a rant I did start!

Best I shut up … Should I share the next part?

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the eighth of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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Before college, before I escaped her,

in unsuspecting hand she slipped a clip,

pedestrian advice from newspaper.

Or did she a roadmap for life equip?

“Live well, love much! Laugh often with your blokes.

Play! And earn the affection of children,

rightful respect of intelligent folks

and approval of critics, even when

you endure the betrayal of your friends.

Love beauty! Grow others when work is done.

Leave world a bit better before life ends:

a healthy child, kind deed, flower garden.”

Was it about what I thought I needed?

How to know I have truly succeeded?

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the seventh of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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That young woman said with hope in her eye,

“If you truly love someone, set him free.

If he fades away did anything die?

Yet if he comes back … Was it meant to be?”

Freshmen … freedom … encumber or smother?

We didn’t “date” those early college years.

Holidays, weekends, we saw each other.

I never reflected. Did she shed tears?

Two years later I Eurailed the summer.

Posted a dozen hand-written letters.

Perhaps within: an ember, a murmur?

Again we dated! But were “we” better?

My obliviousness didn’t soften.

Still saw each other. Not much more often.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the sixth of thirty-six in the series “Vonnets in an Airport Lounge.” Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks, free of hassle and cost.

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Why do I carry false expectations?

Have I over consumed media? Gorged

sappy stories of predestination?

Should I believe in soulmates? What if forged,

fired through affirmed, conscious decisions?

Words don’t work. I’m nothing when I speak of

what I must do. Empty aspirations

wilt under heat when I just profess love.

A clanging cymbal forces a question:

How to satisfy My Love’s inner needs

when words fail short of love’s full expression?

Can my love be shown without doing deeds?

My old friend James wrote something I once read,

was, “Love, if it has not good works, is dead.”

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Coming Attractions: 14 lines every Friday, another in the thirty-six series Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

Backstory and Hat Tips:

seems to answer in his essay …

Fragments of an Innermost Becoming

A Brief, Unscientific Metaphysic Concerning the Nature of Romantic Love

It is perhaps no secret from my writings, but love is an obsession of mine. Searching for it. The tending of it. The loss of it. And while I largely agree with Roland Barthes’ declaration in his A Lover’s Discourse that, “To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little…

Read more

4 months ago · 14 likes · 2 comments · Words and Wilds

a question posed by who asked,

… to which I had briefly answered, “Yes, if forged.”

Hat tip to who advised:

All of which inspired me to scrunch it down to the above 14 lines.

If you smiled while reading then check out:

• Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets such as … » Hemingway not! »

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What harm having a little LLC?

I need to chase every deduction

and have limited liability.

What downside to accounting seduction?

Well… Time, energy, this week: Vaporized!

Pay an artist? File a 10-99!

Simple? No. Hours as I agonized

through IRS systems quite asinine.

---

Not pony to pay a CPA geek?

Navigating arcane rules with no key

sucked creativity out of my week!

Taxman time? “One for you. Nineteen for me.”

How dastardly is the government’s ask?

Bone crushing burdens are these taxing tasks!

---

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

N.B. The above tax on my time explains my recent lack of production…

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Coming Attractions: 14 lines every Friday, another in the thirty-six series Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

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• Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets such as … » Hemingway not! »

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She fronted the band, twirling her baton,

For football games and Memorial parade.

We hung out … high school proms … so time moved on.

Little could we predict our final grade.

I saved for college, scooped ice cream my chore,

Part-time during school, all day in summer.

Beaming a smile she’d enter the parlor.

Time on the beach, radiant tan upon her.

As summer faded our college approached.

Her to a campus. Me study at home.

An awkward discussion had to be broached.

Distance relationship or go it alone?

Had to make a decision: Do we date?

Have we agency? Or subject to fate?

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

Next: » Encumber or Smother (6/36) » on February 6

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Welcome! This is the fifth of thirty-six in the series Vonnets in an Airport Lounge. Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets such as … » Hemingway not! »

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Of my dating scene? One could hear crickets.

With girls, no way was I one to enthrall

Until she prodded, “Buy raffle tickets!

… But don’t have them on me. Give me a call ;)”

At sixteen I was socially deprived,

Knew nothing ‘bout love, life, and emotions.

64 Chevy, her address, did drive,

Then to play basketball was my notion.

I could barely hang full court at the Y

As math and science were more my forte.

Was six foot, scrawny, not fast, couldn’t sky,

No babe magnet, more wall flower decay.

That night I never got to play B-ball.

Her front door … conversation … It changed all.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the fourth of thirty-six in the series Vonnets in an Airport Lounge. Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

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• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets such as … » Hemingway not! »

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“Write drunk. Edit sober.” Hemingway not!

He never said it. Plus he worked mornings.

He drank late in the day. Well, yes … a lot.

Still, he did not violate his warnings

To never mix liquor with writing work.

Writing sober is what he emphasized.

If after toils excess words did lurk

Quite lucid his mind when they were excised.

As for me, I am opposite troubled.

Writing volumes initiates my funk.

Scattered thoughts make my efforts redoubled

To make sense from my mind dump. So, “Write drunk?

Edit sober?” Just doesn’t work, methink,

Since editing sober drove me to drink.

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Coming Attractions: 14 lines every Friday, another in the thirty-six series Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

Do not miss:

• Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets

Comments and share, please 😊

N.B. This image is the only thing created by AI in this post.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

What is the only smart way for writers

to use AI? How ‘bout … as a teacher!

Not to create, nor be a ghostwriter.

A blank page? Not a bug, but a feature.

Is it daft to write your own shitty draft?

Even Hemingway knew, “All drafts are shit.”

Can you without effort master your craft,

Employ wit, learn the grind, deploy true grit?

Can you ask AI to critique what’s wrought?

Where it’s weak? Passive? Content not belong?

How stands your work under AI’s onslaught?

Can it teach improvements where you went wrong?

If you resign to AI, do you shirk

Human agency o’er creative work?

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Coming Attractions: 14 lines every Friday, another in the thirty-six series Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

If you smiled while reading then check out:

• Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets such as … » Hemingway not! »

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Backstory

Inspired by a think piece of at published January 15, 2026:

borked

There's really only one smart way for writers to use AI

Read more

3 months ago · 87 likes · 33 comments · Linda Caroll

Why summarize Linda’s advice in a vonnet? It resonated! I was already mostly complying, though not entirely. For the above vonnet Creatives’ Teacher I wrote a $#1!!y draft myself, then sought AI’s brutally honest critique. Here was my main prompt:

Critique the vonnet. Does this stand up equal to the full body of work published so far at vonnets.io?

Grok’s reply included:

“Weaknesses: Slightly more didactic than your lounge series (e.g., direct advice like “Let it teach”) …”

So I infused more Socratic questioning which is my normal voice.

Another prompt:

Consider in turn each of the below substitute lines for Lines 12 and 14, respectively, as to what is the best overall effect: [12] Seek improvement points, where you went wrong. [14] Human agency with creative work.

AI gave me reasons why both were worse. I chose to accept the reasoning.

And finally this prompt:

Create an image to go with with this new vonnet with supplementary info that I will post on vonnets.io (Substack) plus list in the directory under “Other Vonnets” at the pinned post.

N.B. This image is the only thing created by AI in this post.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

Can five and three equal ten and seven?

Understand new math? Funny how it works.

After all, knead and yeast makes bread leaven.

She built me up and put up with my quirks.

She was open of heart … free from cunning,

And put one foot in front of the other.

How can two launch from humble beginning?

Why take journey not joined by another?

Bubbly effervescent champagne!

With sincere heart, a volunteer unchained.

She a looker? Well she wasn’t quite plain!

“Look me up in the phone book,” she explained.

---

A nerdy guy, oblivious my style.

Her smile! I took a chance, made the dial.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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Welcome! This is the third of thirty-six in the series Vonnets in an Airport Lounge. Please join us for 14 lines every Friday for 36 weeks.

If you smiled while reading then check out:

• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets such as … » Hemingway not! »

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Finger of a random scanner hovers,

asks, “Why should I click your “subscribe” button?”

The crux? If he does he might discover

I am a real person, with heart. But in

an online world, would he actually

read my pages, posts, notes, and find meaning?

I share to seek a connection dually,

No superficial posts, posed and preening.

Those who subscribe should connect and engage,

Put effort and read what I have put down,

Show common respect for work on the page,

Have backbone, and at critique not backdown

‘cause without doubt, beyond manners and cares,

I’ll be reading and commenting on theirs.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

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What inspires? It takes a person with to “go there” and explicitly say, “ … before I subscribe to others, I actually read their Substack page, posts and notes, to find some meaning and connection … I see this as making the effort … respect to myself, and for the work and efforts of others.” Ref: Here

If you smiled while reading then check out:

• Vonnets in an Airport Lounge. Another 14 lines every Friday in this series of 36.

• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets such as … » Hemingway not! »

Comments and share, please 😊

N.B. Preposition in line 12 changed from “to” to “at” on Jan 16… It just reads better.

About me? I only post in sonnets.

Asked, “Post five facts!” I have to be on it.

One: Rolling my tongue proved to be a brute,

Studied German at Goethe Institute.

---

Two: Hiked up through Borneo for the view,

Witnessed sunrise on Mount Kinabalu.

---

Three: My skills skew to technical talents,

Named inventor on a dozen patents.

---

Four: Swam Zambezi River like a fool,

At Victoria Falls’ edge, Devil’s Pool.

---

Five: Since I need post-employment mission,

Run college energy competition!

---

Nominate me? I damn you, Lucifer!

Yet challenge came from sweet Ms. Juniper …

---

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Coming Attractions: 14 lines every Friday, another in the thirty-six series Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

Backstory

was so **ahem ** kind to “nominate me to post five facts about myself.” If I don’t accept the challenge, am I self-cancelling? Then oh yes, I must pass on the cursed challenge to another Substacker to post their five facts and pass the curse forward. Serious question: Did not the EU, UK, and international law ban “chain letters”? Here by the way is the scene of the crime:

As for how I reply, I claim agency!

If you smiled while reading then check out:

• Vonnets in an Airport Lounge

• How do I Substack. Let me count the ways…

• Other Vonnets such as … » Hemingway not! »

Comments and share, please 😊

N.B. Yes, I absolutely did change the first two lines from “As you know I only post in sonnets / So when challenged I have to be on it.” and lines 11-12 from “Five: Since needing post-employment mission, / Runs college energy competition.” I slept on it and am allowed to tinker. Jan 15, 2026.

© 2026 I. B. Vonnet. All rights reserved.

#Poetry #Marriage #LovePoetry #Relationships #PoetryCommunity

• Dumpster Fire (1/36). Jan 2, 2026

• Played my Part (2/36). Jan 9, 2026

• Effervescent Champagne! (3/36). Jan 16, 2026

• Wall Flower Decay (4/36). Jan 23, 2026

• Radiant Tan (5/36). Jan 30, 2026

• Encumber or Smother (6/36). Feb 6, 2026

• A Bit Better (7/36) Feb 13, 2026

• Pottery Shard (8/36) Feb 20, 2026

• Soul at the Prom (9/36) Feb 27, 2026

• Faux Pas (10/36) March 6, 2026

• Idiot! (11/36) March 13, 2026

• Joined Thrice (12/36) March 20, 2026

• Rapture (13/36) March 27, 2026

• Nested Touches (14/36) April 3, 2026

• Why not me? (15/36) April 10, 2026

• Coming Next: All Have a Plan (16/36) on April 17

How do I Substack? Let me count the ways…

1. Due Subscribers Count?

2. A Non-Approach to Promote

3. Vanity Scribbles

4. Hover Hesitation

Other Vonnets

1. Hemingway not!

2. Taxing Tasks

3. Creatives’ Teacher

4. Five Facts

5. Soulmates?

What else?

• How do I write … Let me count the ways (Part 1)

• My messy manual writing process, (Part 2), as “scribed” real-time. Scroll to “Backstory” below the vonnet and image here.

• About AI, “Caveat emptor!: Thoughts on, “Should we really support AI so much?” My snapshot as of Jan 10, 2026.