It's a lie that sets you free


I have been spinning a conversation through my head. It started a few days ago on a park bench near my house next to an abandoned lot where kittens play. I love to watch the kittens darting out between the tall blades of grass. No, I am not taking another one home. Sitting there on the bench next to me was a guy just reading the paper. He could have been any guy. I would have thought he was much older than me just by the way he carried himself but I'd find out later he was 43 the age I was a few days ago. I forgot for a moment never to mistake shy for aloof. Hell people think I am aloof.

So he started the conversation asking if I was going to take a kitten home. Do I spit out my secret shame about having four? Hell no. I was considering before he spoke though that I could equate three cats to one dog and still have room for one more cat in the house and how I'd be doing the community a favor by rescuing an animal nobody wanted and then a flash in my head of me sitting on the sofa with four cats sitting all around me, on my lap, above my head on the sofa all wanting to be loved and how it freaked me out a little when they are all in the same room. No. No more cats.

We sat there talking for awhile. He was degreed could speak on things that were out of the ordinary and I just had this feeling that somewhere at his house there were star wars characters in boxes still in the "original packaging." I lived with one of these guys for three years. We even made love like Babylon5 characters. Yes, I was in love.

So this stranger tries to provoke me into a conversation about politics, even an argument. The GOP is pissed off because they lost and I try to temper that with how pissed off I was when the war started and I kept thinking even now, when we can microwave things and send up satellites we haven't figured a way around war and killing. I didn't go to peace rallies I just seethed in fear.I wanted to put my arms around him and say "don't be afraid. we lived through FDR and Reagan, oh gods, Reagan." I didn't say a word I just kept my mouth closed. I don't watch CNN enough to speak carefully, all my musings would be from the gut and a little piece of me smiling knowing I canceled out his vote. Besides, I love Republicans. My best friend is a Republican, I've had Republican lovers. David loved Reagan so much that we'd have little dinner conversations about the ten best presidents and when he spit that name out it almost made me smile in the end. If they love me for being a bleeding heart liberal or despite it, that's fine with me. I voted for hope, sometimes hope wins and even succeeds.

Religion is really like politics. Nobody wants to hear your personal views on this. Nobody wants to know that God is a living being if you let him be. Nobody wants to know who you voted for, not really. Nobody wants to know that when you have cramps, chocolate works. Nobody.

His attempts to draw me into an argument weren't working, I was too full of joy. Best Friend will be here soon. I felt free of some weight I've been carrying, I had a book in my head and a secret I've been carrying too. So, the war, taxes and this angry soul were the last of my worries. Tomorrow when I came here I'd wear a tie dye dress and a big peace symbol I'd wear like a talisman, maybe even a guitar even though I don't play.

We just chat and he says the most curious thing to me. He said if he found a good republican girl at the bookstore he'd give her a "shot." I was almost shocked at the idea of how insulting that word is. A shot. Shot. I suppose it's the same as saying I'd open my heart to that, I'd look at that, we'd have dinner, make all cozy, and I'd kiss her because it would be Friday and people should kiss on fridays. No, a shot. (at this point I am missing every charming man I've ever known, even the ones with hooves.) Why do people think that unattainable love is all that great? Seriously, Romeo and Juliet was special but they both died. Being apart from it, or aloof is foolish and let me tell you why. Nobody wants to work that hard to get to know someone who hasn't figured out that the word shot is horridly offensive. And if you make someone work that hard and you aren't everything they imagined in their heart that you better be the disappointment will swallow you like Jonah. That is simply why I'd can't really promote even my art. One time I listed a book I made on ebay. The bids kept going insane, $100 then $200 and I though Oh Gods I better stop this now or they will be horribly disappointed. We are our own worst enemy.

After sitting next to this guy for an hour I can promise you that anyone getting the shot here would be him. After she climbed the wall with her Uzi, after she pulled the brambles of fear from her legs, blood filling her shoes she'd be too exhausted to do the gymnastics it would take to get his pants off. Wait, he admits to being a virgin at 43. This topic seems to come up often anymore and I wonder why but don't ask, I don't want to crush his head like a bug.

"Well he tells me, it's the safest sex, masturbation." (Am I really discussing the war and masturbation on a park bench?) As Suzy would say, Ayup. He tells me VD rates are skyrocketing and there must be a 43 year old woman out there who hasn't had sex and when he finds her he's moving out of his parents house and running away with her. I made a mental note to buy a lottery ticket on the walk home and one of those candy bars with marshmallow on the inside. I blanked out at some point and was listening to James Blunt singing in my head:

I'm not looking for us
And neither should you.
Absolutely gorgeous,
Then nothing I say is true.
You won't find yourself
In these guilty eyes

'Cause I love anybody who's
Fool enough to believe
And you're just one of many who
Broke their heart on me
And so I say I don't love you,
Though it kills me
It's a lie that sets you free.

Love, love, love
I can't take your
Love, love, love

And so I say I don't love you,
Though it kills me
It's a lie that sets you free.

I will wrap my body
In other women's arms.
Make love in a hurry,
Feel better than I am.
Hope you find yourself
In someone else's eyes

'Cause I love anybody who's
Fool enough to believe
And you're just one of many who
Broke their heart on me
And so I say I don't love you,
Though it kills me
It's a lie that sets you free.

*******************************
I wanted to nudge him in his glasses from 1982 and tell him that he wouldn't want a woman who is a virgin at 43. It would take him 3 years to get her to say yes. I've been a little easy myself lately because I didn't want someone to have to ask me three times let alone three years. (Yes, it was worth the yes) I didn't the nerve to tell him that women who are virgins don't take off their clothes for you, you have to nudge them off and their panties won't match their bra, not ever ever ever, I promise. I wanted to tell him that for a girl who has kept it until the age of 43, who has fielded those petulant demands to her bedroom, her golden mound that you will have to swim farther, jump higher, and sing a song of true grace. He'd have to get rid of those glasses, shave his head, look mysterious and when she kisses you it better be the kiss of a lifetime. You better have lightning shooting out your ass when those hips are moving like a jackhammer. It better be better than horseback riding and eat chocolate at the same time. I have been off sugar and when I ate a piece of my birthday cake it was SPECTACULAR. As it should be.

I have an Aunt Linda. Lovely woman. She waited her whole life to find love. At the age of 48 she meets a man, a curly haired fellow and marries him. Three months later he died of a massive heart attack. I was heart broken for her. As we approached his green, almost milk green casket that amazed me a little my father leaned in as we were praying and said, "let this be a lesson to you kids, he died of stored up pussy power." Two very different perspectives to the situation.


So if this guy's lie was about VD and taxes and that his parents "need him" there why would I care? I kept thinking that Richie once thought I needed him here and now he's sure he's intrusive. I am not sitting around pining for the next time I can make baby richie pancakes sure this motherhood thing is the be all end all. I've done this for 22 years, 22 years of darning things, coaching him along, showing up for football games and protecting him from the other side of parental heartbreak, explaining carefully that "daddy didn't mean to not show up, but you can come along with Auntie and I and we'll have fun, I promise." He knew being here put me out. Perfect. It should be that way. We are supposed to move away from our parents, have our heart broken, wish "he'd" call, love without fear, stand on the edge, let someone else run the day, trust a lie, hold your hand out ever so nervously and hope the other person has a stronger foothold, sing too loud, mail a valentine.

I went to dinner with Richie and his girlfriend Chrissy the other night and in the middle of dinner I reminded them that when they first met they used to wrestle all the time and how I'd watch knowing one day this will go bad. Well they were wrestling on the lawn one night and chrissy hit him in the sack with her keys. He comes hobbling in full of drama and she kinda giggles saying she didn't think it would hurt that much. He calls her a fucking dumbass and she runs out of the house speeding out of the driveway crying huge tears. He stands out on the front lawn until she drives around again and two hours later their hair was all messed up and their clothes a little "off." Lesson learned. Don't wrestle with a bully and if you do expect to lose. Keys and sacks don't work well together. Loads of lessons learned here. When they figure out absence makes the heart grow fonder I will celebrate with cake.

I wondered what I would teach this guy, this guy on the park bench who is sure I am insane. And then it hit me. I am done teaching anyone a lesson. I was here to learn. Open your eyes Carrie, I said to myself, pay attention here someone is talking to you and this is big stuff. I was reminded about why recently even embroiled in romantic drama I put it out there a little. Why I left the window open, why I take risks. I had some wonder in my head and even now as I am typing this I am thinking about him a little, letting him dance around the edges of my mind even looking for the key to my heart. He's off super heroing I thought and he'd be a little delighted by this, maybe even laughing, flying over head thinking "Jesus she is nuts." I hope he's having such fun.

God was here sitting on my shoulder, you see he was missing me and worrying about me. He was sitting near, watching wondering why he has to scream to me to get me to listen. Smooth Sailing. I wanted the God of all that is loving and patient and teaching to stand up so I could see him and put my arms around him and put my face in his gown and stand on his sandals and say thank you, thank you, thank you for giving me strength when I don't have any. Thanks for making the moon bright so I can sleep without the light off, thanks for making Richie joyful this visit, thanks for teaching me to live with my scar, scars. I could hear God's voice in the day and this guy on this park bench could be me, untouchable, so far removed from love and life and very very safe. I bet he doesn't have a scar on his whole freaking body. I bet he has never ridden his bike down the hill where I broke 3 ribs. I bet he has never cried in an airport, I bet he has never let someone push them so high on the swings that you were sure, absolutely sure you couldn't hang on and come crashing to the ground trying to figure out the three numbers you'd have to dial to get an ambulance there.

When I leave God will talk to him in kitten whispers in the tall grass. His parents are alive and he can go sit with them today I would have to call my father down from the skies. His parents are worried about him, you know they are like I worry about Richie when he's raging or lost, when he's supposed to get the car serviced and he won't, when he studies at the very last minute. My parents aren't worried about me at all. If I am sure of anything right now, its that they have no worries in my concern. The world loves me and I love them back without reservation. I will put my arms around suzy soon and I will whisper to her that I love her. I will leave the window open, trust my gut, brush myself off and get on with it over and over and over again. I like the whirling around too much to give it up.

I told Suzy recently, I am going to find some adventure. I am such a bad influence I thought. She'd follow along because we do that for each other. Even now in secret moments I plan my escape from here so we can move to be near her, watch her fix the government while I create. I even threw suzy a net, reminded her that hunting for adventure is fun. I kept worrying she'd get hurt, that I was always her bad influence and here I was risking again and I shouldn't encourage her to. Then, this morning she texts me (I really want Denny's Pancakes) I will worry when she texts me that she's feeling a little pang of heart ache, I am always the fun influence in her life and to be reminded fills me with joy. For a moment I was back years ago in bed with the guy so forgettable and she was trudging up the stairs to my room with a box of donuts telling him "it's time to go, we are going antique shopping. Have a donut on your way out the coffee is downstairs." If he only knew that antiques creep her out because they are full of ghosts. "why is she like that?" the boys always ask. My answer: "she has a sickness in her head, thank god eh?" We'd sit in a bookstore later, sharing little bits of this and that like we were gold mining. She'd finish a whole book in an hour and I'd walk out with a Bukowski book, one of a 100. She'd say "It's almost over this thing with the guy with a pony tail." "Why?" I'd ask. "Well he has a pony tail and he drinks too much coffee." Gods she was right and yes it was over. A guy who owns a car that never runs and $5,000 in sex toys is not the guy who is going to kill spiders and open bottles. She was being kind. I appreciate that of her nobody is kinder to me. Nobody.

I was headed back home and I could see God standing in the middle of the street by the house I wonder about, the green house with the broken windows and the giant splashes of orange lilies overgrown everywhere. I remember the day they took the old man out of that house on a stretcher on his way to a nursing home. Funny, I was sure the house had been abandoned weeks ago and he lived in there dark and alone and it made me angry with myself that I didn't check. God was just watching me walk home and I turned to nod to let him know it was all ok. I would be fine, no risk, no reward. I'd pray a little later in the night or early in the morning and yes I'd remember to do something nice for someone today because I am a child of God and I do love the tender mercies when they float this way. We can all be God, we all are. I can feed or kill someone tomorrow and in their life I am God for that moment. He smiled large and went over to sit on the park bench next to the guy with the paper. Let's hope he has his listening ears turned up. Maybe he'll be there next week with different glasses, his shirt messed a little and looking in the paper for his own apartment. Maybe.

I will wrap my body
In other women's arms.
Make love in a hurry,
Feel better than I am.
Hope you find yourself
In someone else's eyes

'Cause I love anybody who's
Fool enough to believe
And you're just one of many who
Broke their heart on me
And so I say I don't love you,
Though it kills me
It's a lie that sets you free.

Love, love, love
I can't take your
Love, love, love

And so I say I don't love you

'Cause I love anybody who's
Fool enough to believe (Love,
Love, love)
And you're just one of many
Who broke their heart on me
(Love, love, love)
And so I say I don't love
You, (Love, love, love)
Though it kills me
'Cause it's a lie
- James Blunt

**************************************
If you haven't given someone your number hoping they'll call out of the blue, I suggest it. If you don't have a cat, shame on you. If I go get one of those kittens later I am naming it fluffy after the almost dead cat. If you think God isn't around all the time, know he's as close as your next thought. If you are worried about having a broken heart, then you'll never have one full of love. If you haven't heard James Blunt sing when you do your heart will be all a flutter. Text someone today and tell them you love them, that you miss them. They're waiting to hear it. Paint something in a few spare moments, put it out there in the world. "Cause I love anybody who is fool enough to believe and you're just one of many who broke their heart on me and so I don't love though it kills me. It's a lie that sets you free."

Carrie

You can always find me at summerpoet@msn.com and my work at poetsummer.etsy.com.

Ipod Adventures

Rhiannon

Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
and wouldn't you love to love her?
she rules her life like a bird in flight
and who will be her lover?
All your life you've never seen a woman
taken by the sky
where would you stay if she promised to you heaven
would you even try?

And he says Rhiannon don't go
and he says Rhiannon, stay
and he says I still cry out for you
don't leave me don't leave me


she is like a cat in the dark
and baby she is your darkness
she rules her life like a fine skylark
and when the sky is starless

once in a million years
a lady like her rises oh no RHiannon
you cry and she's gone
and your life knows no answer
your life knows no answer
***************************************

So I often ask people, what's on your Ipod, just random wonderings. I love my little white machine and when people worry about what someone would find in their house if they were hit by a bus, I think I'd be judged best by what is on my Ipod. I made a little deal with myself, when I sell an extender chain in the shop I am putting $10 of music on my machine. You can load books on these things, audio books and it's like someone reading to you at night. Oh Gods I love when someone reads to me at night. Only a few more days and Suzy will be here and she'll read to me.

So the texts start this morning:

me: You ever listen to Chris Cornell?
bf: Who the hell is that?
me: Great voice youd like him
bf: where did you hear him? Vh1?
me: Stuart recommended him
bf: for the music or lyrics
me: both
bf: Are you singing along?
me: yup
bf: there ya go
me: I am grumpy tell me the first three songs you'd put on an ipod
bf: wha? (Ok I am thinking she's trying to do the deaf thing in text messages)
me: ignore
bf: One more time? three what?
me: Three songs you would put on an ipod
bf: Well let's see how about the drops of jupiter from train, Crash by Dave Matthews, tribute to Tommy John and his thousands of hours of fun and Levon by EJ because when I couldn't find you today I was singing that to myself
bf: what first three did you load?
me: elton, all ej
bf: what's the last three
me: eagles; most are sad, the carpenters; rainy days and mondays, Rhiannon
bf: isn't that the chick who got beat up?
me: you need some sugar

and that's how it started. I could have lost the afternoon in music and almost did. I asked my brother what he listened to: Frank sinatra, Grateful dead and the stones. Of course the stones. Then Michael: Rider on the wind; the doors, American Highway, ventura, Woodstock; Joni Mitchell. Can't ask Batman, he's rescuing a damsel. The bossy republican of course picks Bob Dylan (what a fake ass democrat answer), the boxer by Paul Simon and anything by the Stones. Men love the stones. Jagger is a guy's guy. Richie would pick Usher (I like usher also), John Paul (gagging) and thriller by MJ. I love listening him to jam to MJ and hear him dancing up on the third floor.

If you found my ipod you'd find Elton of course, some James Blunt (gosh he makes me sadly soul full, Joni Mitchell, Melissa Etheridge, Stevie Nicks, Pachabell; the Cannon in D Minor, and Adelle chasing sidewalks. On quiet nights you'd find a little Willie Nelson and when I am full of power a little You Ought to Know. I listen to the same songs over and over again until they are good friends. I am intrigued with the theme from August Rush, the screaming violins, the triangle and a little moon dance hidden in there.

If you haven't tried the Ipod craze yet, I recommend it. Music soothes the pacing caged tiger in all of us.

You can find my me any time at summerpoet@msn.com and my work at www.poetsummer.etsy.com. Carrie.

Tender Mercies

I have been missing my father lately. What to tell you about my father? He was larger than life, not particularly tall, strikingly handsome though and full of personality. When you wished he'd tone it down that's when he turned it up. I woke up this morning and my throat was aching and I thought about my father. When we were children my father took care of us when we were sick. When I was 11 or so we took a summer trip to Missouri to visit family. Notice I didn't use the word vacation because nothing in Missouri ever felt like vacation. We caught frogs, went to Nascar like things and my cousins shot turtles off logs. My brother was sickly when he was little but I seldom got sick. I had broken bones mind you because I was out of balance and careless then but never really sick. So on the way home from MO in the back of the pick up truck with the cap on the top, sitting on lawn chairs that tilted to the side when my father would turn (yes, this was not a vacation) I was ill. My father took me directly to the hospital and I had tonsilitis.

For my mother to take time away from work was difficult as she ran the show and when my father took time off it was usually to work another job so we would have money put away for a vacation or a new car or something of that sort because my father didn't believe in running up credit. He made me paranoid about it also as I never have a running credit balance. As kids we had a Sears card that my mother would pull out if the washer broke or we needed new school jackets.

So my father elected to stay home and take care of me. This was so rare my brother was sure we were doing something secret and I wasn't sick at all. I can't help but smile thinking my brother will call me every day now just so we can laugh together for a few minutes. Soon he's going to be a father. Well, he's not bringing a child into the world. He and the pretty younger girlfriend are adopting an English Bull Dog named Mr. Smoochums (can you imagine what they will name a child?). You have no idea the preparation that has gone into bring this puppy home. I didn't prepare like this when we carted Richie home from the hospital. My brother who never emails me emailed me photos of the puppy, like someone sends out ultrasound photos. The first day this dog chews up an expensive pair of their shoes, the first time it craps in his arms while he's carrying it down the 5,000 stairs to their place it won't all be so cute.

In the rare moments I think of my father tenderly it was during the week I had tonsilitis. He was so excited to be home just doing little things around the house without my mother being there to nag him. He reveled in cooking family dinners, huge elaborate dinners to make my mother giggle, amazed that he attended to the little details. He'd bring me mashed potatoes and ice cream and we'd watch Bozo in the afternoon on the little black and white TV on the end of my bed. We played checkers and he told me things, life things he felt important for me to know. You are wondering now what those life things are. Well Charlie always had a wisdom about him that ran in two directions. In one direction, complete insanity the other such common sense that you can't believe he found the insight. It was even hard to put the thought process together, wonder of the experience to know how he'd arrive to the life conclusions let alone to share them with others. Charlieisms:

Never take a greyhound bus anywhere. People who ride on a greyhound bus either have lice or don't mind having it.
Always wear a hat. Ok, this didn't work for me because my head is too large for hats and I have never found one hat I looked good in.
The trick to good health was keeping your feet dry.
Men who work hard are never drunk. He didn't mention women, I assume he thought they should never be drunk.
People of color didn't really know how to swim. His proof of this? Ever see a really good olympic swimmer of color?
Men in the Marine corp are better men and they have brothers all over the world.
Children should never be heard past 5pm and he's home whatever he wants to watch on the tv is what we are watching even if that means the mating practices of any african animal on marlon perkins
Planet of the apes could really happen
You can always superglue a cut if you dont have bandaids

So he'd glide in, tool belt on, a pencil tucked behind his ear held by this giant flush of dark hair. He'd kiss me on top of my head and he was off again. He'd float by after my nap, feel my forehead and just my luck at 3pm all that week on wls, the planet of the apes movies. He'd make Stan come in and watch too but sit across the room in the big french chair my grandmother sat in while she watched Sox games in the afternoon. The three of us "holding down the fort" until my mother came home. This week he'd fix the dishwasher that she used to store pots for a year. He worked in the garden, worked on the pool filter and looked through the yard for snakes so my mother could hang sheets on the line without screaming like a maniac but mostly he was my guardian and my caretaker.

At the end of the week on Sunday morning while my mother was at church with my brother he'd come in my room, sit at the little electric organ and play swing low sweet chariot and sing loud, waking me. "hey your tonsils saved us from a morning of church wanna watch wrestling with me?" We cooked breakfast, I felt better, the fog of sickness lifting and tomorrow morning he'd be back saving the world. He ate the world. Richie hardly remembers him and he's like my father, a bull in a china shop. He's not as brilliant as my father but he's more tender when you aren't sick. I remember being fresh from heart surgery home,home finally. I told Richie I needed some chicken broth hot in a cup and he said "I'll have to check the salt content on that." I kept thinking how horribly had I screwed up that Richie was in charge and we had to think of the salt content of anything.Soon he will be back at school and my house will be mine again. When I floated through the house yesterday there were two tvs on, the stereo running on the counter and I ached for quiet.

take your head around the world
see what you get
from your mind
write your soul down word for word
see who's your friend
who is kind
well it's almost like a disease
and I know soon you will be

over the lies
you'll be strong
you'll be rich in love
and you will carry on
no no no, oh no
no you won't be mine

take your straight line for a curve
make it stretch
the same old line
then try to find if it was worth
what you spent
why you're guilty for the way you're feeling now
it's almost like being free
I know soon you will be

over the lies
you'll be strong
you'll be rich in love
and you will carry on
no no no, oh no
no you won't be mine - Rob Thomas

***************************************
My father would like that I was writing about him this morning, this hazy lazy summer morning. We've had a rainy cool summer and those are the summers I like the best. Today I am making a bracelet for suzy's visit, something she will love with not too many beads. I am going to wander to the farmers market and find the perfect melon and some very ripe tomatoes to practice something wonderful to cook for her. I'll work all day because that's what I do and I think tonight I will watch the hulk. I could use a little mindless entertainment. If my father were still alive I'd make him lunch and take the kid over to see him, he always liked that best. We'd talk of life and I'd put my head on his shoulder and wait to hear him say, "this shit passes." Bukowski would say life is a "river of shit." word.

You can always find me at Summerpoet@msn.com and my work at poetsummer.etsy.com.

Carrie.

Romance

I would encourage you if you haven't written a poem to put paper to pen. I actually prefer the computer because I can type fast and my fingers tend to keep up with my head. However, this poses another problem as there is never a filter. My filter, my dam, my governing body is weak. Oui Monsieur my guard between my brain and my mouth is weaker than Paris Hilton's hymen. I am not a nervous person mind you but when I am around a man that makes me nervous and my knees feel weak and I start to glance around for an easy exit. I am speaking to you women here; you know the men I speak of, the men of confidence and grace who make you feel at ease, but not really. They walk with a little swagger. Carly Simon wrote songs about men like this. They do interesting mysterious things like build bridges and then they do the mundane and borderline silly, like golf.

I talk a million miles a minute unless of course I am tired or trying to explain something, slowly. So this anxious girl when around someone that makes her nervous starts to get fidgety and always yes always wondering why did I put myself in this position? Why didn't I just stick with easy, easy is everywhere. This is why, when one of those confident, interesting men takes you for a walk with them, when they accept the invite for adventure or initiate it it will shine a light in places you've never been. They will teach you things you can't learn in books like how to negoiate a deal so the other side thinks they've won but all the time, all the while you know you did. HE can be the cool calm waters that giggles when you are spinning and then makes the world quiet. Tricky can do that. I'll be in tears about the kid, about work, about being overwhelmed and he just says "what's wrong baby?" the world is good again. It's all manageable.

I remember being in nyc on a visit unable to figure out any truth that is in my heart or the world and one of those confident men put it all in perspective for me "all the planning you do is all about enjoying right now." I think I am growing up though as recently I was anxious about my son who is in college coming home for an unspecified time period. I called Best Friend and she texted then called him and called me to let me know "you heard it wrong he'll just be around a few days." Either he changed his plans when she called or I did hear it wrong. Either works for me just fine. I let her fix it. It's so hard to let anyone fix anything isn't it? Will they make it worse? Will they wonder why it's so easy for them and yet so difficult for me? When we are supposed to crawl we can't wait to run. When we are running, the safety seems to crawl. Such is life.

So, I wrote this poem and wanted to share it with the world..

Yes Sir
A woman giving me a peculiar look
approached me in the park today
she asked me why I was collecting bits of dirt
dropping them in my coat pocket

"I am stealing a heart." I explained to her
"In the dirt?"
How do I tell her of my plan?
I find only the darkest richest pieces of soil
break them up in my hand and line my pocket

In a few days I'll see him again
and after we make love
we've made love three times now
Well perhaps twice
the first time tender and slow and sweet
and the second rough and hard
taking me over and over
and the third distant and achingly strange

Never once an utterance of an I love you
never once a chink
just a smile and a scrambled egg
a grunt and a jerk and a whisper of a groan
but no poetry
no lingering
no song
a call a few days later and an invite to dinner

Tonight I will steal his heart I tell her
I will wear the right thing
I will hold my head at the perfect tilt
when he brushes the back of his hand against my chin
I will remember those tiny touches
be quiet and careful
And after the dancing
after the shyly undressing
when he is finally laying still in the dark
and I am playing with his hair
watching his chest rise and fall
I will whisper a spell and with one deep breath
his heart will fly from his mouth and I will
be waiting, watch the red thing still beating
fly through the air and have it in my hand

He won't miss this neglected organ
it will make for an improved golf swing
he'll celebrate it's departure because
there are many women and they are all similar
similar in want and similar in pain
their shame on one sleeve, their heart on the other
she makes a great lasagna and
the other keeps a tidy house
One sky dives another paints lighthouses by the sea
her hair flying and smelling of salt

When he isn't looking I will nestle that heart
in my coat pocket sitting in the rich soil
from the park the park where children play
their musings heard long after they've gone home for supper
with dirty little hands

I will water the living thing
feed it chips of chocolate using the foil wrappers
to reflect the sun, keep it warm
and when I am waiting for the bus I will whisper this stow away heart
some poetry
sing it old elton john songs
"You can tell everybody this is your song"
And the very moment he is thanking the gods
for curing him of his ridiculous obsession with love
when he's hit a hole in one
when he's made the brunette with the cute over bite scream
and bite her lip
I'll call and arrange for dinner
I'll cook a ham because most people don't know there are magic spices in ham

And when he's sleeping I will slip it back now bigger
pumping chocolate
and poetry
and afternoons in the herb garden
the arteries full of little dybek stories
and shakespeare sonnets
and the smell of lilacs
Sandburg's Rootabaga story about the
white horse girl and the blue wind boy

For him
with a missing heart
Life will move right along at the pace life moves
Crumpled calendar pages
filled with little notes
the dry cleaning receipts piled on the counter
its almost time for the sports illustrated bikini girl issue
the playoffs are next week
they've hired a new blond receptionist who smiles quickly
when he walks by

and then in the middle of a meeting
he will pause and feel a pain
a little something from his chest
climb up through his throat
past those lips the soft lips
women love against their ear
a green vine out through his teeth
and a giant lilly, white with a yellow eye will appear
the meeting will stop
some will clap inside
the little lawyer he brushes off with a glance
will giggle and for a few days
the world will admire the heart flower
he wears on his sleeve that opens bright when he passes the park
the whole world will see what I saw one afternoon
when his eye caught mine
and whispered, Yes Sir.

*********************************
If you haven't been nervous lately, I'd advise it. Define the space in your head where nervous lives and take a visit. Pack lightly you won't stay long. I didn't. I told best friend once that she shouldn't run for the bus, "another will be along in no less than an hour." Chasing parked cars breaks your nose and I like my nose just fine. Nervous will inspire you to write poetry. It will keep you in bed a little longer in the morning trying to separate out the bird's songs. Nervous will make you look up a new recipe and will give you inspiration to paint something. There are no monsters under the bed just those that live in the dark recesses of our heart. Everything's been done I tell myself, there are no surprises. The sun will rise tomorrow and because of best friend and the way she loves me, my child won't be home for four weeks. Life is good.

If you like to find me you can at Summerpoet@msn.com. You can find my work, as always at the fabulous etsy; www.poetsummer.etsy.com.

It's raining.

Carrie.

A Little on Alice and Adventure:

I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!

I feel like Alice sometimes. It's a balance really, wanting all the time for some adventure to plop itself in front of me and the other time wanting to have a very level head to promote my business and work out the details that are my life. I think I find inspiration when BestFriend is here, she was here for a week and I am full of inspiration. This trip was even more special because my sweet niece Katie came to visit with her husband Ben. What to tell you about Katie? She's magic. She has a way of making things work, supporting her husband while he's finishing med school, taking care of people who are emotionally and developmentally challenged, and making people just feel comfortable around her. We all laugh that Katie will answer a text message weeks after you've sent her one and we all just smile knowing she's out there working working working and keeping it together and making it look stylish to do so. I keep thinking young Richard will pick up on the idea that she and her husband are working toward a goal so they don't have to spend 8 hours a day gazing at eachother finding a reason to pick an argument out of boredom, if nothing else. Now that he's a 3 hour drive away again it's much easier to deal with his "male growing pains." Children are supposed to move away, it's the natural course to life and I am enjoying his random phone calls rather than his daily presence in my house. I take some joy in that he's off getting antoher degree and when he starts his life he will understand that hard work is really the only key to any success.

What did we do for a week? Hahahaha time spent with Goofygirl flies, it always has. I remember going to the lake house on a friday and before the blink of an eye it was time to drive home on a Sunday and we still had a list of things we hadn't done yet. It doesn't matter if others are around or it's just the two of us, time grows wings. She makes me laugh, after 20 years she still makes me laugh and she's my best audience for material. She's my cheerleader and she always gives me a different turn on life, a new window to breathe from. We visited with family, played some silly game where you had to pass an electronic machine that gave you clues to give a different team. Goofygirl is always about the game. I love that about her. We watched a few movies, she helped me get some work done, we shopped, shopped and shopped. I have a closet of new clothes. We wandered a bookstore and looked for poetry, a few bookstores, and looked for cookbooks and I found a stack of old Gourmet magazines for $4. I am going to find the best recipe in those magazines and perhaps post one here. We met up with an old friend we both worked with and spent the day wandering, lunching, trying on clothes, laughing. It felt like vacation in the middle of the winter. We've had one of those winters where it never stops snowing and the cold cuts you like a knife so a little vacation in the middle of that was a welcome treat. I miss her this week but I am sure I'll see her soon, such is life.

It's baby time here. My sweet nephew Matt and his wife had a baby boy, Andrew David and a few days later my dear Cousin Denise had a new baby boy, Luke Reilly. I am anxious to see them both and feel blessed that there are more little voices in the world to add to my world and very glad I am not yet a grandmother. Very glad.

More good news? Moonstruckmagic is open again. Ok, check out her stuff at www.moonstruckmagic.etsy.com. Her new york spa soap is to die for and those little tubes of foot relaxer cream oh they are wonderful. I wrote to her the moment I saw her open again and put in an order for that lovely soap that smells like mango and vanilla and makes tons of suds and a little oat on the top to exfoliate. My bar kept getting smaller and smaller and although I've made other soap purchases as I am an addicted homemade soap girl, nothing compares to the soap in that shop.

Christmas was insane here, I felt bad that I didn't post but if you sell things at Christmas time you know you are in for more work than you can handle. Sleep was a luxury through November and December but I did manage to spend some holiday joy with my family and even baked. (It really helps to hire some help). I went easy on myself as far as obligations other than work because I didn't want to feel overwhelmed or frustrated that I just can't do everything.
I am dedicating the new year to taking better care of myself, working out more, taking the time three times a day to get on the bike or the treadmill and I am giong to swim more this year as we have a new health club that's only blocks from the house. I am looking forward to swimming when it's cold. I am hiring someone full time to help out with issues outside of creating and this year I am going to get some help with the garden. Life is good and it feels like taking care of me will give me even more inspiration on the business front.

It was the Dutchess who said, "Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of themselves." I am off to take care of me. I hope you will do the same. Thanks so much for spending this time with me. I promise to keep up here more than I have been as things are a little quiter. This is the season of romance so I hope you are doing something special for someone you love. If you'd like to see more of my work you can find it at www.poetsummer.etsy.com. You can always contact me at Summerpoet@msn.com. Thanks, Carrie.