All you need to know about me you will find here in each poem, in a turn of phrase, in a photo. I am a Best Friend and I love one. I am an artist and I am fighting cancer. I'd paint anything that stood still long enough and I have a few cats (no specific number here).
You thought that it could never happen to all the people that you became, your body lost in legend, the beast so very tame. But here, right here, between the birthmark and the stain, between the ocean and your open vein, between the snowman and the rain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name. The women in your scrapbook whom you still praise and blame, you say they chained you to your fingernails and you climb the halls of fame. Oh but here, right here, between the peanuts and the cage, between the darkness and the stage, between the hour and the age, once again, once again, love calls you by your name.
Shouldering your loneliness like a gun that you will not learn to aim, you stumble into this movie house, then you climb, you climb into the frame. Yes, and here, right here between the moonlight and the lane, between the tunnel and the train, between the victim and his stain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name.
I leave the lady meditating on the very love which I, I do not wish to claim, I journey down the hundred steps, but the street is still the very same. And here, right here, between the dancer and his cane, between the sailboat and the drain, between the newsreel and your tiny pain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name.
Where are you, Judy, where are you, Anne? Where are the paths your heroes came? Wondering out loud as the bandage pulls away, was I, was I only limping, was I really lame? Oh here, come over here, between the windmill and the grain, between the sundial and the chain, between the traitor and her pain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name.
Leonard Cohen
Cohen wrote so many wonderful poems/songs. My favorite is Hallelujah
Dance me to the end of love is truly enchanting
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon Show me slowly what I only know the limits of Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love
Suzanne takes you down to a place near the river. Gods I love that song. When I hearda this this morning I had to make some tea from China and eat a very ripe orange.
"In My Secret Life"
I saw you this morning. You were moving so fast. Can’t seem to loosen my grip On the past. And I miss you so much. There’s no one in sight. And we’re still making love In My Secret Life.
I smile when I’m angry. I cheat and I lie. I do what I have to do To get by. But I know what is wrong, And I know what is right. And I’d die for the truth In My Secret Life.
Hold on, hold on, my brother. My sister, hold on tight. I finally got my orders. I’ll be marching through the morning, Marching through the night, Moving cross the borders Of My Secret Life.
Looked through the paper. Makes you want to cry. Nobody cares if the people Live or die. And the dealer wants you thinking That it’s either black or white. Thank G-d it’s not that simple In My Secret Life.
I bite my lip. I buy what I’m told: From the latest hit, To the wisdom of old. But I’m always alone. And my heart is like ice. And it’s crowded and cold In My Secret Life.
I found this at a yard sale a few years ago and found it when looking for some old papers. It was published in 1888 by a company called Dr. Price's cream baking powder and is full of the most interesting little recipes.
Southern Corn Bread: sift one quart of white corn meal with two teaspoonfulls of baking powder. Add three tablespoons of melted lard, salt and three beaten eggs and a pink of milk, enough to make a thin batter. Beat all very hard for two minutes and bake rather quickly in a hot well greased pan in which a little dry meal has been sifted. Eat hot.
I love the suggestion to eat it hot.
Rice Muffins: Add two teacups full of cold boiled rice half a pint of milk and three eggs. Sift together one pinkt of flour, one and one half teaspoons of baking powder and one tablespoon of sugar and one teaspoon of salt and mix with the rice, beating into a smooth batter. Grease some muffin pans and fill each to 2/3rds and bake in a hot oven.
I would think a hot oven would be 350 and bake it until it looks done. I haven't tried this yet but the next time I make rice I may just do that.
Vanilla Snow Eggs: beat stiff the whites of six eggs; have ready on the fire a pint of ilk sweetneed and flavored with vanilla; as soon as it boils drop the beaten eggs into it by tablespoons and as soon as they become set dip them out with a tin; slice and arrange them according to fancy upon a broad dish; allow the milk in the saucepan to cool a little, and then stir in the yolks of the egg very gradually. When thick, pour around the snowed eggs and serve cold.
and finally sustenance for the sick...yes it has it's own chapter
Toast water: Brown nicely but do not burn the slices of bread and pour them into boiling water and cover. Let them steep until cold keeping the bowl or dish containing the cost closely covered. Strain off the water and sweet to taste putting a piece of ice into it as drank.
I couild not ever dream of drinking this as wet break freaks me out.
It was a little more than a year ago when I heard the news that would open up my little piece of the world and swallow me. It didn't. It didn't because I wasn't done doing what I was supposed to do I suppose. If you know what that is you could drop me a note I'd like that. I was looking for Bukowski poetry last night to post here to share with you and I found this, it bears repeating:
The Laughing Heart your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission. be on the watch. there are ways out. there is a light somewhere. it may not be much light but it beats the darkness. be on the watch. the gods will offer you chances. know them. take them. you can’t beat death but you can beat death in life, sometimes. and the more often you learn to do it, the more light there will be. your life is your life. know it while you have it. you are marvelous the gods wait to delight in you.
Charles Bukowski
You see even when you are bogged down in sadness or despair or even worry this is the only go around so there is no choice other than to look forward and hope by all means of hope that Emily was right and there is a bird and those feathers will carry the light.
Bukowski loved Ezra Pound. I will write more on Ezra later but I found this and it gave me such comfort that I put it on a note where I work and to this day I can find comfort in it.
As cool as the pale wet leaves of lily-of-the-valley She laid beside me in the dawn
Ezra Pound
And this I think the imagery is as beautiful as the song. If you want a day of comfort spend the entire day listening to a little Tommy.
and my contribution to all this?
When you have everything you want God takes this as a sign you need a hurricane and he moves his finger in a little circle right near your head and the rain will fall and fall Don't be shocked when nobody notices it's not their storm and they have their own dream to chase All you can do is hold on to what you know and look to the sky when you are thirsty and know when it's time to lay your head down and wait for the day to pass as they tend to do Nobody has to remind the sun to come up in ribbons even when summer is ending when the bugs sing so loud you think they drown out any possibility of reasoning Make your deal with God now tell him you will be more understanding of the world more tolerable of fools you will move more carefully and perhaps he will be teaching a girl's school in the Sudan or he will be taking a little nap and just when he's missing your song he will hear your prayer he will hear the screams and offer a little solace at the end of the day on the car ride home and that will be enough.
Thanks for spending this time with me. I have started a new project and I am excited to share pieces of that as well.
So one day awhile back I was watching Oprah. She had on a woman who was complaining that her Best Friend slept with her husband. This is the point where Oprah leans in and says quiet seriously, "Um, she wasn't your best friend." No shit. Best Friends don't do these sort of things. I was reading a blog recently where someone was saying truly strange things about her friend and I kept thinking, friends don't treat friends like this, they just don't. How do I know this? I have a Best Friend. I've had a Best Friend for a long time. Know what Best Friends Never do?
They never fuck your man. It doesn't even occur to them and if you love your Best Friend for a long time you know the other's weakness and how a man would fill that void and therefore you can't be attracted to him. Just how it works.
Best Friends never tell anyone where you were if you don't want the world to know where you are. There is no excuse for telling, not even if someone is worried. When you want to be away from the world, you tell your Best Friend and they field the nonsense but they don't tell, they just can't so don't ask.
Best Friends never put you down to others unless of course the put down is so blatant it's comical and everyone already knows about it. I can tell people my Best Friend is picky because if you've ever ordered in a restaurant with her you know. She has ordered something on the menu that will have to be set up in a fashion they've never encountered and you know what? She just likes it that way. She tells the world I've had 14 emotions today. That's a good day.
Best Friends don't lie to you. They never ever lie. If they start bullshitting you what separates them from men? Nothing. Best Friends tell you when the dress is stupid, and not working for your hips or ass. They mention that lipstick gives them a tumor, they laugh and point at you when you wear lime green crocks. (Don't ask me how I know this stuff for certain.) Best Friends knock on the door when you've been away from the world too long. Best Friends are always invited to your house, it's just a given. Best Friends don't lie.
Best Friends know your weaknesses and don't play on them. They know you're an emotional girl, or perhaps not emotional enough. They know you won't put the cap back on the bottle and do it when you aren't looking just so they can sleep and they don't nag at you to do it. They can finish your sentences but delight in hearing them. They know you for the worst and best of what you are and who you are and love love love you anyway.
If you want a Best Friend, be one. It's just that simple. Love someone without boundary, love them at the bookstore and love them late at night when they call because they had a strange nightmare about chickens. You can sleep when you die.
Why do I love MY Best Friend?
This is easy.
She's always on my side. If someone calls her bitching about me her first response, "what did you do to her?" hahaha
We are two totally different people, different views on most things but I can see her point of view and respect it and she always respects mine even when she's laughing and pointing.
She's the rational to my not so rational side. If I overly excited about something she will put her hand on my shoulder and say "girlfriend this has no power." She's usually right about this.
She says things that make me laugh days after she says them. Things like "If you weren't dressed like a bumble bee and I wasn't dressed like a gypsy hooker, we'd be eating dinner at Trump Tower tonight." Ha, we ate BBQ at a hole. Figures.
She shares her family with me. Because of her love and her generous spirit I have another sister and a brother and nieces and nephews I love as much as I love my own children. I can have a separate relationship with each of them and she gave me a whole another family to love. Love multiplies when you share it, she's proof.
On a road trip, she always drives. I hate to drive. I am in control of the temperature, the radio, what we eat, and what I read to her. The rest is hers and I am glad it is.
I will never have to do anything in my life alone ever again. Imagine that. We are born alone, we spend time alone, we die alone. Not when you have the Best Friend I do, I don't ever have to do anything alone again. When you have a Best Friend you never have to take someone you can barely tolerate to a family wedding. They will expect your Best Friend because she's the person you want to be with, all the time.
My Best Friend can turn an ordinary afternoon up by Northwestern into an adventure. We stop at the Jewel, make a lunch, get a few really stupid magazines and one really smart one. We take the quilt from the trunk and sit in the grass ans paint each other's toe nails and read magazines and eat melon balls and laugh. Those days are the best days of my life.
When you have a Best Friend life is lighter, easier and so full of joy. Any burden is half and any happiness doubled. I know. I have one.
The first time I read Bukowski I was with my Best Friend. Actually I was at her little apartment up on Barry Street and I pulled the orange copy of Love is A Mad Dog from Hell from the bookcase and I was done, smitten and fully in love with each line. I loved even some more than others. When he wrote sad you could taste sad like humidity and when he wrote content you just wanted to take a nap, content with the whole world.
Yes Yes
when God created love he didn't help most when God created dogs He didn't help dogs when God created plants that was average when God created hate we had a standard utility when God created me He created me when God created the monkey He was asleep when He created the giraffe He was drunk when He created narcotics He was high and when He created suicide He was low
when He created you lying in bed He knew what He was doing He was drunk and He was high and He created the mountains and the sea and fire at the same time
He made some mistakes but when He created you lying in bed He came all over His Blessed Universe.
-Charles Bukowski
and the gods wait to delight in you. Gosh, oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh. What kinder thing could you say to someone? This wasn't just a drunk. He wasn't just a mad who hid behind a face he thought was ugly, even hideous. He was pure poetry, hate and pain and love and joy the pendulum swings and you die in each line.
Consummation Of Grief
I even hear the mountains the way they laugh up and down their blue sides and down in the water the fish cry and the water is their tears. I listen to the water on nights I drink away and the sadness becomes so great I hear it in my clock it becomes knobs upon my dresser it becomes paper on the floor it becomes a shoehorn a laundry ticket it becomes cigarette smoke climbing a chapel of dark vines. . . it matters little very little love is not so bad or very little life what counts is waiting on walls I was born for this I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.
Charles Bukowski
The images of Bukowski are beautiful. If you read Ham on Rye you will read that he didn't care what clothes he wore, all he cared about was the poems and the women and the beer, the escape of the reality of life and living for this moment, right here.
For Jane: With All the Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough:
I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads in black, this thing that moved once around flesh, and I call God a liar, I say anything that moved like that or knew my name could never die in the common verity of dying, and I pick up her lovely dress, all her loveliness gone, and I speak to all the gods, Jewish gods, Christ-gods, chips of blinking things, idols, pills, bread, fathoms, risks, knowledgeable surrender, rats in the gravy of two gone quite mad without a chance, hummingbird knowledge, hummingbird chance, I lean upon this, I lean on all of this and I know her dress upon my arm but they will not give her back to me.
Charles Bukowski
If you are going to try go all the way! How many times do we have to hear this in our lifetime before it's our mantra? How many times? Anything he endured was this gift, the lover of life. If you are going to try go all the way there is no other feeling like this and you will be alone with the gods. I've read it a thousand times and when I read it again it will make me cry. He believed it and we wait around to hear it to inspire us even now, even now that he's dead, buried in the ground and the worms are eating his bones.
The rich are not good to the rich, the poor are not good to the poor. We are afraid. More haters than lovers and people are not good to each other. Perhaps if they were our deaths would not be so sad. I love that he turns it in his head to figure a way for us to be kinder, easier to make life more about watching out for one another even in a poem.
It reminds me of a Joseph Conrad poem about love and war and the way men who wage work work it out in their head.
I think I'll add more soon. I've had enough of his sadness tonight and I have to sleep soon. You can find him on YouTube, all over the net, in a bookstore, a library, and somewhere near your 3rd rib.
I made the wreath from some old silk flowers I found on sale and the twigs that fall down from the trees outside and a little bit of wire. The peppers are insane now, 9 different kinds, all fun shapes and colors, thinking about gathering a bunch up for a painting for the kitchen, some inspiration. The herbs have taken over especially the cat nip, next year i'd grown much less of it. I find such joy in the garden, I can't begin to tell you.
Yes Dirty has broken down and taken to loving one of the kittens. He may come around for the others. I'm not sure if he's feeling brotherly love or just wanted a nap partner.
Even when I'm angry I will leave a trail of bread crumbs to find my heart I can't shut doors, never could the brave will find their way and what would I drop? if I knew you were hungry I'd drop french baguette with a little melted cheese if I knew you were hungry intentionally avoiding food, avoiding any comfort because you like the challenge of seeing if you can push the 20 percent if you can push and push and oh how I love when you push
If I thought you were bored I'd leave a trail of poetry little snippets of this and that Eliot's lost afternoon of hysteria or the mermaids of Prufrock Perhaps little pieces of Emily and you'd know it was her because she wrote of hope and the birds and butterflies She waited like I do, winding the months in little balls letting the days pass as days tend to do and wishing and loving you
And if you thought fun had passed you by I'd create a game and leave the pieces strewn like love letters all over the pavement you could be Romeo and I will be Juliet and we can be on the porch playing a game of romance where the only prize is this girl's heart
If I believed for a moment you had given up hope in mankind and nature I'd leave you a trail of flowers flowers in every shape and size flowers from the islands and flowers from Paris not just their pedals, their brilliant colors soon to die instead I'd plant a row of flowers, all in blues and greens one for each eye to see in rows forming a path to where my heart would be
If you were feeling love had slipped through your hands the hands that can jerry rig a radio to work without a battery but just a potato from some child's lab I would cut hearts from the red red paper I'd cut them with a child's scissors so I wouldn't cut myself on the tips and on every heart I'd write something I love about you I'd write of your gentle spirit of your laugh like thunder or the way you will throw rational aside just to love me, the wonky girl with a crooked heart
If i thought you were weary, weary from a world that moves like a carousel around and around so fast you are afraid to touch your foot to the ground for fear you'd fall not afraid of the pain of falling afraid that someone would notice and wonder then I'd leave a path herbs herbs grown by the Gods in heavens we cant see herbs of such intoxicating scent you'd fall under their spell and perhaps under mine and over me
and when you were fed and reminded of love's possibility when you were covered in flowers and taking a rest on my left breast with a heady head full of poetry and stolen time I'd whisper to you thoughts to make you forget about duty the world would stop and the clouds would linger we could live life in those few moments every dream at the tip of your finger each thought understood before you spoke it every fear banished when love broke it and there for a moment or a hundred years you'd be mine with a belly full of bread and a heart full of rhyme
he's worth reading and years ago when I first found him he wrote an article about a woman watching her grandmother jerk off a parrot and found it disturbing. If I find it again I will send it along.
Summer is about life being a little less serious, eating watermelon, summer romance, writing a love letter and listening to music in the park waiting for fire works. I live on the south side of Chicago so the fireworks go on and on and on. Don't get me started. Summer defines our time when we are healing, when there's not worry of shoveling the drive way with no end and your biggest worry is which new flower will be blooming in the garden. Summer summer summer.
Inspired by Ina Garten and feeling like I wanted to eat something that wasn't about meat because the meat thing gets so old. I was missing Best Friend and our afternoons eating Greek. They closed down the little greek place I love so much, made it a mundane lunch and dinner place full of nothing special. So if you are looking for something summer to eat that you can eat cold as well as hot and is beyond simple, this is it.
The best part of this is that you don't need to measure anything really. I started with some fillo dough sheets, two different kinds, two different thicknesses, the thick on the bottom. No need to butter a cookie sheet, nothing to measure here. Just start with a few sheets of dough, and then a little misting of melted butter and a little olive oil, and some defrosted frozen spinach that you will have to squeeze the water out of with your hands. On top of that a little crumbled feta and a smidge of garlic and chopped dill (mine from the garden) and scallions both the white and green cut up. Now sprinkle all the layers except for the top layer with a little bread crumbs to bind it together. Now if you are full of adventure you can add sun dried tomatoes, or some roasted red pepper. The sky is the limit here I wouldn't add more than a few extras because you don't want to hide the spinach of the feta.
Then you'll need a few more sheets of the filo and another layer of the spinach/cheese fun. Don't add too much dill, it will destroy everything and if you are feeling especially summer, cut a lemon and squeeze some of that juice over the top, another layer of the fillo dough a few sheets and some more melted butter. I take the top layer and spread a little of the melted butter and then some egg wash to give it some color as I do not like the fillo dough too crunchy.
Bake at 350 for about 36 minutes you are just really cooking the dough, everything else is already cooked. Ina mixes in some turkey sausage and makes a wonderful dipping sauce but I wasn't in the mood for a summer heavy sauce or rolling it up. I am going to put her recipe below though because she is the mother of all good cooking and watching her is a sublime way to spend a summer afternoon.
Ingredients nocoupons
* 1/2 cup olive oil * 1 bunch chopped scallions, white and green parts * 2 (10-ounce) boxes frozen chopped spinach, defrosted * 2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill * 3 extra-large eggs, lightly beaten * 7 ounces feta cheese, crumbled * 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt * 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper * 40 sheets (1 box) frozen phyllo dough (such as Pepperidge Farm), defrosted overnight in the refrigerator * 1/2 pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter, melted * 1/2 cup plain dry breadcrumbs
Directions
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
Heat the olive oil in a saute pan and add the scallions. Cook for 5 minutes or until soft. Meanwhile, squeeze most of the water out of the spinach and place it in a bowl. Add the scallions, dill, eggs, feta, salt, and pepper and mix together.
Keep the phyllo dough sheets covered with a damp kitchen towel. Unfold 1 sheet of the phyllo dough. Brush the sheet with melted butter and sprinkle with breadcrumbs. Repeat the process by laying a second sheet of phyllo dough over the first sheet, brush it with melted butter and sprinkle with breadcrumbs until all 10 sheets have been used. Spoon 3/4 cup of the spinach mixture into a sausage shape along one edge of the phyllo dough. Roll it up. Brush the top with butter and score the roll into 1-inch rounds. Place it on an oiled baking sheet. Repeat until all the pastry and filling have been used.
Place in the oven and bake for 12 minutes or until the edges are lightly browned. Serve warm.
He loves her through the whole winter because he sees something in her even she's forgotten He stands over her in the rain and when the sizzle of lightning fills her head she can hear him whisper in low tones and she knows anything uncomfortable is temporary and you grow and grow and grow
He sighs when she's wonky because a wonky girl is finding her way and he will be there to celebrate when she's home and he can figure twenty one grams on a bike and she grows
He has the power to make her wet to let his sun shine down on her and convert all that divine wetness to food and by God's design love can change an afternoon and even a flower for the rest of her life love love love
So today he kept a promise like a sacred flame turned a few forgotten days into the tender rain and she remembers that if you drink and drink you can also drown but she can swim and loves when he's around
when no one noticed when the wind blew just right when he tells her she's perfect when he whispers good night it didnt make a noise not even a sound she closed her eyes she held her breath and when his hand slipped around her neck she bloomed
*************************** The rose is from my garden and it's thorns tore my thumb to shreds.
I was in the garden this morning and not one but two monarch butterflies appeared they were dancing and drinking fruity drinks from the flowers awaiting their arrival and I was listening as you always should when the winged marvels of nature appear and one said to the other "I miss you terribly" the other just sort of carried on her business of garden visits and she said "I don't think you do." The other approached her quietly "I think of you every day a hundred times a day." "I think of you, thinking of me." The queen the color of a pumpkin couldn't believe what she'd heard so she pretended not to hear him and he would tell her a few more times so that this courting ritual of one not trusting flutter of this way and that and the one so wanted to be trusted danced and they danced and they danced and I was witness to their love when he kissed her the wind was so cool I was certain the Gods of summer winds and beautiful purple flowers stopped and sat with me in my garden of mundane summer
The garden is coming along nicely this year. Everything is filling in and I have picked about 30 tomatoes and more sprigs of basil and sage than I can count. The cats love the cat nip which is growing in like mad and I love the colors of the flowers. I even added a wind chime and finally finished the light pole to hang some flowers. The new blue bell looking flowers are called chinese lantern flowers. The blooms are delicate and lovely. I am going to plant some packages of seeds tomorrow for some late september surprise and am still looking for a rusty bench. I think anything new will spoil the victorian feel I love about it so much.
These are the new photos of the kittens. There are six, I have a few here but will add more later as they get a little bigger and easier to take photos of. Their aunt Sheba has decided to hide them all over the house which sounds like 6 little fire alarms going off when they are missing their mother and moreover her milk. I haven't been able to pick a favorite yet but that little white one in the photos steals my heart.
I have this old gas light pole outside the house and for a few years it was just an eyesore. I didn't want to tear it out because I love the bird on top and I wasn't sure what to do with it. This year it was my little project so I sanded the whole thing, spray painted it and then started painting flowers here and there when I'd have some time at the end of the day. I sealed it in a spray, a matt spray and then headed over to the hardware store to find a dowel. The hardware store adventure was serious fun because this is a place full of really helpful men. They cut the dowel for me and then drilled a hole in each end so I could hang a few plants from this new creation of mine. The rest as they say is history.