spinninghead

If you haven't yet bought my book, please consider doing so. I am re-reading some of my poetry and am really quite proud of it and I can definitely say it represents a lot of who I am and who I have been in the past, and much of what I went through in my young adulthood.

I wish I still wrote a lot of poetry. I try to write once in a while, but it doesn't come nearly as naturally as it did in my early college years. Maybe I'm just out of practice.



And I'll share with you the one poem I just read that I believe will always be one of my favorites in spite of its subject matter, because it is one of my most honest and vulnerable poems, and one which I feel a very strong connection to still.

Decapitation

(and tying me to a chair you
cut off all my air supply,
for a gentle night's rest was
not what I'd get tonight

you loved me, though I didn't know
why, for there was no apparent
reason for such quiet sacred
moments to be felt from your eyes

you wrapped me in a plastic bag
tied me up against the bed
and tried to decapitate
those feelings you had grown to hate

for I was not upset or mad
at what would seem a horrid act
no, I was only wanting you
to love me gently like you had.

and find me pleasing once again.)

I've finally published my book of poetry! It's for sale on lulu.com and I'm really proud of the final product. :D Check it out!

I'm almost done with my pair of socks! I think I will finish today, and I will be sure to post photos soon. :)

Today I will also be going to campus to print my poetry manuscript to enter the Sacramento Poetry Center's Book Contest, so that's exciting. :D I'm totally going to win and send copies of my book to you guys (autographed of course :P).

Other than that, I was thinking of going to a dance workshop in Roseville this evening before going to Midtown Stomp, but I'm kind of not feeling like going at this point, partially since I want to have energy for dancing at Midtown and then there's an after-party at my friend Amanda's house for her birthday, where there will be more dancing. Not only that but the workshop was going to be hip-hop and contemporary style dancing... and while I'd like to try more of that stuff and give hip-hop a fresh try, I'm not sure this workshop is the best place to do it since it said it is intermediate level. Lastly, it costs $30, which is more than I'd like to pay for dancing when I've already spent $60 today registering for the Dave and Haley Workshop in SLO. So, I think I shall skip this workshop and keep an eye out for the next one CORE offers.

Yesterday was fun as well. I went to Emeritus at Citrus Heights, where my friend Carly works, cos she had invited me and several other swing dancers to come dance at their renaming ceremony, at which there was a live band. The band was just okay... but at least they did play a few faster than slow-dance songs that we could swing to. I was really happy my friend Rocindo showed up cos he's a LOT of fun to dance with. He and I did a really exhausting but fun dance to a Cherry Poppin' Daddies song that I actually dislike... but the dance was so much fun and he led me in some jumps and such, so it was impressive to those around us and they were all entertained. :) It was great to be there entertaining the elderly. They need some liveliness in their lives and something to keep their minds off their Alzheimer's.

After that Carly was going to join me in going to Tupelo for a "stitch 'n' bitch" group I had found out about through facebook. She was following me there, and then she somehow ended up following the wrong car, so I lost her and she just went home. :/ At least my friend Cortney still joined me, and I taught her how to knit! It was exciting and she did a REALLY good job for a new learner. The group itself was pretty large, with probably about 15 people in total (although some people left early and some showed up late), and everyone was nice and friendly. I will definitely be going back... I won't have much else to do on a Thursday night unless I have homework.

That's all for now. I'm off to knit more and finish these socks!

Yes, I've been reading more Tagore... his wisdom and eloquence never cease to amaze me. Here are a few things I read today in Thought Relics and Stray Birds that stood out:

'All our desires are but focussing our will to a limited range of experience. These become jealously tenacious and combative when we fail to imagine that our experience will widen. In our childhood we wished for an unbounded continuity in our enjoyment of a particular food or game and we refused to believe in the worth of a mature age which had different interests altogether. Those who build their vision of a life after death upon the foundation of desires belonging to the present life merely show their want of faith in Eternal life. They cling to what they have because they cannot believe that their love for the present is only an indication that this love will persist through their growth, stimulating it, and not that it will retard their growth altogether.'

' "I want" has its constant counterweight - "I do not want." Otherwise the monster necessity, with its immovable weight, would crush all existence. For the moment we may sigh at the fact that nothing remains for long, but we are saved from permanent despair at the calamity that nothing moves at all. Things remain and things move - between these two contrary currents we have found our dwelling-place and freedom.'

'Our will attains perfection when it is one with love, for only love is true freedom. This freedom is not in the negation of restraint. It spontaneously accepts bondage, because bondage does not bind it, but only measures its truth. Non-slavery is in the cessation of service, but freedom is in service itself.

A village poet of Bengal says:
"In love the end is neither pain nor pleasure, but love only.
Love gives freedom while it binds, for love is what unites." '

It was a cold and peaceful morn,
Chilled and drifting along, I knew it wouldn't be far
Eastern winds blew, and the water below
Blue,
Echoed the colour of my heart.
Rushing on toward you, I melted with every
Greuling inch of icy aquamarine

Crashing into you, finally, I
Rested upon your shore,
Aware of how much strength I lost, and you
Sustained me,
Held me up, until I could swim again.

I paint my exterior
With vivid colours,
Blue and red and pink.
All the while, my insides
Are cold, dark and bleak.
I wait for darkness to succumb
To vibrance from the surface,
But as I look into your eyes,
I know I've been mistaken.
I cannot make a transformation
From the outside in.
Rather, I must take the time
To meticulously brush
The empty space within my chest
With lovely crimson strokes,
And as I fill in my own heart,
I find what matters most.
The colour bleeds throughout my body,
Chest expands and toes move.
I have finally come to love,
And live in full colour.

Fifteen and she thinks she
Knows the world,
Owes the world
An explanation for itself,
Or why she's a common statistic
Of its harrowing tales.

Thirty and he thinks he
Cares about his lover,
Compares her to the world,
Fully blossomed in its splendor,
If only for a second,
Later to be replaced.

Sixty and she thinks she
Might die in a minute,
Only to be replaced
By a younger, comelier creature
Who might not know so much,
But is at the peak of her
Perfection.

Eighty and it's time,
Time to sum up life's worth,
Will we love beyond the grave?
The knowledge of this world,
Important as it once was,
Becomes trivial as we grasp
Onto each other, knowing only
That which we are still able to do:
Love.

Heavy with hardened Hearts, heave a hundred
Sighs skyward so that Celestial slumber
Thrusts through eyelids thick And throbbing with thoughts
Of vehement verse, That, vocalised, would
Cause cataclysm With caustic lyric.
O rest, and repute: Worry rarely rights
Love and lovers lost My love, languish life
By biding in breath And breaking the bonds
To arduous toil; Touch tranquility.

---

The above is an attempt at a poem mirroring the alliterative style of Cædmon's Hymn.

Desire manifests itself in wings
and beautiful dreams;
Peel back the scabs
and feel the crimson
flow -
I.
Human, voices & cupped hands
Clap under the flesh,
Cracking with choruses
of whispers, beseeching
Mortals in disbelief -
Fall in love.

---

This was written as poetic response to this poem:

sorrows

who would believe them winged
who would believe they could be

beautiful who would believe
they could fall so in love with mortals

that they would attach themselves
as scars attach and ride the skin


sometimes we hear them in our dreams
rattling their skulls clicking their bony fingers

envying our crackling hair
our spice filled flesh


they have heard me beseeching
as I whispered into my own

cupped hands enough not me again
enough but who can distinguish

one human voice
amid such choruses of desire

-by Lucille Clifton, from the September 2007 issue of Poetry magazine.