no shrinking allowed

i'm fingering the hem of a new robe to wear,
a new kind of love i'm trying on for size.
a new way to live, that always grows
and never shrinks.

love should not make you smaller.
did he ask you to shrink, or did you try to read him
and guess what he wanted?
doesn't matter anymore,
sometimes everyone's just wrong.

do you say the new way sounds selfish?  that love is all sacrifice?
I say, as soon as you stop growing,
he may begin to hate you anyway,
but more importantly, so may you, and we can't have that again.

never apologize for others loving you.
don't act as though your life began the moment he showed up.
don't shrug off the parts that don't include him as peripheral.
it's a disservice to everyone in your life,
and a lie that could become true.

don't tell him the other men in your life see you
as a sexless human they can take or leave as a friend.
don't appease him by saying they don't see you that way
to make him feel comfortable.
say instead, "Perhaps they're all in love with me--
what's it to us?
go date someone smaller if you don't believe you deserve me."

it's not selfish, because you want him to believe all of this about himself too.
no shrinking allowed for either.
go big or go home.


kavanaugh

October 7 at 8:47 AM · 

I cannot begin to say anything new or smarter on the Kavanaugh situation. Besides, the things that feel important to me right now, may seem unrelated in some ways. But I feel two things very strongly:

1) Time passing shouldn't be an argument for certain things being remembered accurately or not, but it seems to be. And even though Dr. Ford's case sounded like she was being overpowered and wouldn't have the option of what I'm about to describe, this is a hope I have and pray for:
I hope all humans begin to get so aware of their own bodies and selves, that if anyone touches us in any manner that gives us the slightest gut cringe, I hope we become able to say STOP THAT SHIT. I've almost gotten to where I can say it after the fact, but I still don't in many situations. And in the moment is even harder if you're caught off guard. In more extreme cases, I know some of us have gone years or forever being quiet. But young women, young men, start now. You even get grazed against in a way that makes you uncomfortable, turn around that second and don't worry about politeness. Your body is your one skin and boundary between you and the rest of us. Own it, inhabit it and don't worry if you sound crazy or picky or rude. You may need even more space than it seems others need. That's okay. You get to choose. That goes for me too - when I'm walking around, patting babies' heads, slapping people on the back - if you don't like it, tell me to stop. The decent people want to know how you feel.
*Again, I don't think Dr.Ford had that option; this is just on my mind.

2) Second: The Kavanaugh situation has a lot of pieces and parts, and I know there are friends who honestly believe there wasn't good evidence. I also know though, that there are people who will let their big picture ideals cloud the here and now. I just hope that the people dying for a Pro-Life Court don't overlook the Present Life Humans right in front of them. Maybe I'm wrong, and that hasn't happened here, but humans, you alive today, right in front of us, Dr. Ford, others, male or female, YOU MATTER more to me than any goal or ideal.

Watch out for the ones that steal your foxiness

"If I had grasped that whatever comes with
    a fox
Is what tests marriage and proves it a
   marriage--
I would not have failed the test."
                         Ted Hughes


fox in bell jar




















Am I saying I blame Hughes?
Of course not.  I am saying only that it's really hard for me to love him.

A few years ago, The Atlantic had an interesting article about Hughes' poetry before, during and after his marriage to Plath which, bless his heart, is pretty much how we define him.
Sorry bastard.

I'm no expert, but when I read about the two of them, rightly or wrongly, I think of people who marry or befriend someone because they love certain talents and aspects of the person's personality, then proceed to slowly crush those same traits out of them.

My mother says, "Insecurity can be a scary thing.  An insecure person an be a dangerous person."  Don't marry or pair yourself with someone who thinks they don't deserve you.
They may work up to you, but often, they will wear you down until you deserve them...or maybe until you forget where you end and they begin.

Or maybe they'll just fucking tire you out until you don't give a shit.

If you find yourself in a draining and de-selfing relationship, my strictly unprofessional and unmedical opinion is to drink as much caffeine and take as many meds and see as many therapists as you need to get out of that jar and away from the ones who try to grind you into dust.

You think you're too tired, but guess what happens:  once you are out of their orbit, you will stand up straight, breathe deeply and find energy you never even knew you had.  Energy that's been wasted just making it through the day near those energy stealers.

Stay foxy.




pippin sighting




Last night I saw Pippin, clicking along on his chiclet feet, nose in the air as if we'd never met.  It's like starting from square one everyday with that dog.

His human was as friendly as ever.  He walked towards me to chat, stuck his hand out in greeting.  This was a new move.  I gave Pippin the side eye, and received an almost imperceptible nod - was that a nod of allowance?  Tentatively I reached out to shake the human's hand.  He shook my hand, smiled and turned continuing his walk.

I swear I heard a double chirp, helium-like bark as they walked away, the cadence and notes sounded almost like, "Good boy."
Noooo…
but maybe?


pippin: be ye amazed



Pippin is a dog, but he's not my dog.  Neither is he yours.
Pippin belongs to no one but himself.

He is a fiery red Pomeranian, with the floof of a thousand teasings, and feet like tiny Chiclets.
Pippin walks his man; his man does not walk him.
His man knows this which is why the relationship works.
They are roommates and peers, there is no ownership, and they are on life's journey together.

Sometimes I wonder how these two found each other.  Obviously one is a poli-sci major at the local college, but the man looks like he might be in college also.

The man is friendly and greets neighbors warmly, as if encouraging us to engage.  Pippin runs up as if he enjoys chatting also.
However, if you dare to touch him or even look him in the eye, he unleashes barking as savage as a pit bull who just swallowed a thousand helium balloons.  I mean, it's quiet and hard to hear, but if you lean in, you can really feel the rage.

My daughter and I have spent many a morning discussing what would happen to Pippin if he landed in water...not that we would throw him, mind you, he just has the look that sinking is an impossibility.  His fluffiness is astounding, and she's sure if you shaved him, he'd be nothing more than a bean with a nose and feet.

I am obsessed with Pippin.
I won't stop evangelizing until you are too.

neil diamond's think tank

sometimes you make up writing games for yourself bc you notice your coaster is the Catch Phrase wheel.  i took four words touching, and wrote a bit quickly and off the top of my weird head.
anyone want to play?  choose any four consecutive words on the wheel and a writing prompt.
mine were:

neil diamond
groundhog day
think tank
left field





to some, neil diamond's invitation to participate in the think tank came out of left field.

if you ask caroline fisherbergen of ohio, she's skeptical.  "I mean, a focus group maybe...perhaps a little feed back on a new detergent or some turkey bacon, okay, I can see it, but an ongoing, five-year-commitment to NASA's grant to reassess the alignment of the planets and their consistency with the Mayan calendar?  c'mon people, that's a bit much even for mr.shiny shirts.

she continued, "are you SURE they meant neil?  there wasn't some sort of mail mixup?"  she shook her head in disbelief.  "i just don't get it.  I mean, he's got opinions and feedback aplenty, but he's always seemed a bit lost in time and space, if you ask me.  I date the guy for 4 weeks--okay, maybe, maybe five, and for years after, he's all the time rehashing it, 'when did we meet, honey?  was it spring?  was it summer?  the days were short, no they were long, yes long!  but it was good, I remember it being good.  yeah?'  

"after awhile, it felt like that movie Groundhog Day.  i'm just like, "dude, it was a month.  let it goooo.  I don't remember, you don't remember, mostly we were drunk and on mushrooms.  we were 20 and it was the 60s.  who cares?"  

finally, she throws up her hands, "i'm just not sure they've chosen the right guy is all."

___________________



empty bookless hands

the problem is I don't know who to worship anymore.
I liked the narrative.
I liked the order and answers.
I feed on words.
I knew what to get up and read and study every morning.
I can't worship nature even though I love it.
I can't worship or believe it's all inside in me.  I feel finite.
mostly...I just get up and don't know what to read.
who ever thought not knowing what book to read each morning would make a person cry so hard?

but I know too much to go back to the way it was.
I won't pick up the bible just to have an answer to which book.
maybe someday I will, maybe never.
I lived in there so long.
I was so good at it.
it was good mostly, but there's just...other.
other things to learn for now, and
when I grab that book,
I feel comfortable but closed to other.

people will worry and think that's where i'd find comfort and answers and it'd be like going home.
but they don't know where I am.  they don't know that for me,
right now,
it's the worst choice.
ironically, god is the only one who understands why it's important I don't.

it's too hard to explain to everyone.

[you don't have to, honey.  you don't.  the voice in the brackets who answers, who has always answered, already knows.  just come rest.  you know me.  don't name me now...or ever...just rest.  you're allowed].

please brackets-voice, please be a woman...or a very high percentage.
at least that would be new.