Rearranging Poetry

I’d walked by it for months and left it untouched. But finally I turned around and knelt down and started moving the pieces back up to eye view.

It was magnetic word poetry, given to me by friends. When I first put it on my fridge, I’d ask my friends to make a phrase or poem before they left. But last year, while I was dating a guy with kids, they got rearranged. The children couldn’t read, the words meant nothing to them. Instead, they focused on making random lines and bringing things down to their level.

It’s not uncommon for us to destroy what we can not appreciate. Or to disregard the impact of one existence over another.

The old poetry was gone. But as i moved the words back up within reach, new poetry started being formed. I found myself smiling at the new combinations I could make, the new phrases I could combine.

Maya Angelou passed away today. I remember the thrill of going to see her in person a few years ago and hearing her talk. I remember the inspiration her words held and still hold for me. I wondered what new words would inspire us now.

Maybe now is the time for us to look back at the language we use, the language that has been brought down to a lower level, and bend down and bring it back up to a higher view.

I wonder what poetry we could make if we only tried.

Please Excuse The Mess

I was going through some old journal entries on my OKCupid profile, and came across this poem I had written back in 2007.  This would have been a few months after having broken up from a second, long-distance attempt with Sully.  I was also living with my mom after escaping from crazy psycho roommate and feeling like that cliche – 30-something divorced chick living with mom and trying to put the pieces back together.

Please Excuse The Mess

Please excuse me if I appear to be leaking –
I promise the tears are only matters of time.
My heart and my soul can’t find what they’re seeking.
And yet in my sorrow I’m starting to rhyme.

I can’t tell my mother, she’s in her room sleeping.
The friends I call out to don’t answer their phone.
I sit at my desk and I ponder my options.
And yet all I know is that I shouldn’t be alone.

I curse at the things that send hormones raging
That send the blood pumping in pain in my head
The brain that won’t stop me from constantly thinking
When all that I want is to curl up in bed.

I think through too much, no one could survive it,
The marathon madness that pushes on through
The decisions so random to like it or hate it
I wish it would stop or I knew what to do.

This now is when I wish I had bondage
To tie up the twitches that run through my veins
The darkness that seeks me is just an illusion
The sorrow I feel is all in my brain.

Others can freely embrace love around them
Others can freely express how they feel
Others can feed when their souls become hungry
Others can do it, but what is my deal?

I who seek pleasure and comfort, eluded
Confused and too eager, desperately try
To squelch down the madness I see myself reaking
To take the insanity and cause it to die.

Wildly I quiver, to share now so freely
The crazed bizarre thoughts that go running past
I cover my face in hopes I can stop it
But nothing I do can catch them so fast.

So here I linger, waiting for rescue
Knowing I’m only now giving the cue.
Will someone save me? Is there a knight present?
What good it would do me, I haven’t a clue.

And so I now sadly slink back to my chamber
Hoping to deafen the songs that I hear
Thank you for reading, please don’t reject me
Don’t run away, but please don’t come too near.

Give precious moments before you abandon
Whatever odd kindness you muster for me.
And as you now search for a cure for my ailment
I hope that time will soon set me free.

–cjp 10.26.07