SIGN

Sunlight.

arrogance

sees, sleeps

Now i understand:

every thing

you say.

In the dark.

heartbeat

deepens, deafens

Now I see:

even things

you do not say.

Flicked.

only eye contact

--no smiles yet—

Songs.

you and i—hum

hush fire

_

Tagged for a six

Zen-Denizen tagged me to blog about six unspectacular quirks. Here’s what I think they are:

1. This may quite possibly turn out to be a medical condition: I laugh, goosebump, headlight, climax, and sometimes cry, too easily.

*** Although—while I tear up oh-so-easy (at the news, movies, songs, conversations), I’m not doing enough. In fact, my life, right now, is too much about being a bourgie dilettante. I comfort myself with the thought that when my kids are independent, I’ll go to an ashram or refugee camp or anywhere where they could use me.***

2. Most old people love me; kids frequently crush. My peers—I can never tell how they feel. Still, some of the people who love me (best friends, my sister, my husband, and an erstwhile fiancé) arrived at their pet-name for me independently. They all call me “puppy.”

*** So—I tell them female puppies grow up to be bitches.***

3. I’ve mostly been (washing and) wearing the same two bras for the last 14 months. They’re the pregnancy/nursing variety. I got them when I sprouted pregnant boobage and i’ve since been nursing (just the baby mind, not the sick and the dying) and they’re super convenient.

*** Also—re. those bras: there’s a special Pilates machine in hell reserved for me because I think they look sort of bondage-y.***

4. I love my babies. They’re perfect for snuggling, surprise me, make me giggle, break my heart, do me proud, and take my breath away. Every single day.

*** Still—the time I most look forward to is when they’re asleep and I can snuggle uninterrupted with their dad. Even better, I look forward to the day they’ll be off at college and I can snuggle up with their dad all day.***

5. I’m a freak. I grew taller after all my peers had hit their adult height. That was probably because I was severely anorexic between the ages of 16 and 19 and my body didn’t have the fuel to grow. Now when I’m turned down for a job because I’m not tall enough, I mentally beat myself up.

*** And then—I think how much more my boobs would have grown and stop beating myself up.***

6. I’m a total procrastinator and can procrastinate for months on projects that have a defined deadline.

*** Wait—you already knew that :).***

I’m going to (alphabetically) tag Anna, Blue, Kit&Kumari, Mary Anne Mohanraj, SupaRupa, and Tamasha.

The rules are as follows:

-Link the person who tagged you.
-Mention the rules in your blog.
-Tell us about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
-Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
-Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged.

THE NIGHT I TUCK THE CHILDREN IN

I fix bars across the windows

so Elizabeth Smart and Stephanie Covey

Jessica Lunsford and Christopher Barrios

Would fear the dark less

I showed the children who fetched water

every day from miles away

water rushing out the bathroom taps

The look of wonder in their eyes meant

that not one child left the taps running

as they brushed their teeth that night

Sean Bell’s babies leave happily

when their mother returns from court

Most other children soothed with news

that their parents would come for them tomorrow

To Jon Benet and Nix Marie

i said nothing

like the orphans, they seemed

happy to play and prepare

different families once more

Clay who’d escaped with a safety pin

showed them magic safety tricks

Erica raced to bed quicker than everyone else

Amber read the younger kids three stories

the children who worked two jobs

were showing off their facts

of factories, bosses, money--

I let them be

I was afraid that the children who’d owned guns

And the children who’d been made to turn tricks

would disturb, distort the rest

But their eyes were so wise with the happiness

of being counted amongst the children

that i felt that this one night at least

things would be alright

My own boy always begging for sleepovers

actually smiles

as I turn out the light

As I pull the door close

I notice Warren Jeff’s lost boys

talking to Shawn who was found

Laci’s baby has fine hair—mine

feels it with her fingers, rolls towards him

_

Wrap Up: Poetry prompts

Ok—please stop asking me how the poem-a-day is going. I should have never said anything. Because you know, my writing is often doodling—which is why there is so much of it as marginalia in my textbooks. I’m not particular about what I put up here, because I don’t know most of you :) (Although I’m sure you’re lovely folks I’d obviously love to know etc., etc.).

The people important to me tell me

(a) that I’m the next greatest thing to Shakespeare (sadly, they typically haven’t read “literature” since college and love to compare me to old Will only because he is the go-to litterateur they remember);

(b) that my stuff is “interesting” which is code for they haven’t read it/HATE it/can’t commit to liking it;

(c) that if I’m interested in seeing it published, they’ll help me rework and revise. (Ok this last was just Big A and I hop from love to sorrow and back about this. Help me pick a stance or a fight or something.) (And Sara, if you’re reading this, he’d like you to know that he’s embarrassed.)

Anyway, I wrote most days, but that isn’t unusual for me. The quality was quite execrable (which in my head ^excreta, therefore shitty). But I mean to start posting daily so I may resort to posting them on days I feel silent. Guess you’re in for a treat :P

PRANK

Short Hills

high heels

Small sheep

tall ship

Soft sheets

counterfeit

You

a-

muse

_

The Painted Veil, Atonement

Back when I was twelve, Maugham’s The Painted Veil seemed to me to be the most romantic thing ever. Or the most romantic thing I had ever read. Same thing. Yes, I had already read Wuthering Heights, so clearly my top choice was somewhat cynical.

But I guess that even at that age and even in a family such as mine, the specter of “choosing” a marriage partner “guided” by family pressures was a possible destiny. And so, the romance of two strangers voyaging inwards, discovering themselves, and truly loving appealed to me for its positivist prospects.

I saw the movie last night. By myself. Which isn’t strange at all; the strange part is that I go to the movies by myself all the time but can’t watch them at home by myself--I fall asleep or get bored. Same thing, I guess.

But I watched this by myself at home. And yes, some of the intensity was bodice-ripping (she lets her wrap slide off her shoulders, he takes two purposeful steps to reach her side, they kiss like the antidote is hidden at the back of their throats and only their tongues can scope and reach it. Gross.). Yup, like I said, highly satisfactory. Although the older, wiser me did think that most of their squabbles were like PSAs on how not to communicate with your partner. But I stayed awake till the end. (May be because Edward Norton was in it. And someone told me that they once played pool with him.) (Look, I never claimed this post was going to make sense.)

Emboldened by my initial success, I thought I’d watch Atonement tonight. Why two movies in as many days? Because I have an article due on Friday is why. So anyway, I ordered Atonement because it was another book I greatly loved. And I fell asleep.

_

MORNING

Branches crisscross the wet
And catch their breath.

In their maze
No monster waits
In their gaze
No slur, no praise

Branches crisscross the air
I, too, watch them there.

Don’t know why i love him

Me: Know something sobering? Rushdie--death threat, divorces, age and all--has turned out yet another book in the time I’ve spent writing this one dissertation.

Big A: Bet you he’s also been to a lot more trendy parties that you have.

Me: Now that’s just being cruel!

_