Our poet’s recent writing returns to a theme that I had
found odd when she first raised it many poems ago, about her feelings regarding
love and marriage.
With the exception of her marriage (which lasted five years)
her life has largely been a series of brief romances, often putting her in the
role of side chick.
She might get any man she desires, they inevitably return
home to their wives, leaving her alone.
While she once bought the farm, as she referred to her
marriage, it was so heavy with jealousy (he used to excuse her cheating onher to justify his own infidelity)
Her affair last year with a married man she could not resist
seems to be the norm for her,
She even mocked (too strong a word) the life style he was
returning to, when oddly enough, it appears she wanted that life style, too,
just didn’t know how to get it.
Even with me, it was never going to be what she wanted, a
man to stay with her the whole night. Nor would be get it from others I
suspected she got involved with.
RR had potential, although when their affair started, he was
still married with kids.
It is difficult for me to distinguish between those she
really hoped to make a life with from those who simply used to trickle up.
In one recent essay, she wrote about being addicted to food
and sex, and so this complicated any evaluation of her lovers, between those
with whom she is only working something out with and those she might want as a
life partner.
Her most recent poem (which I still suspect is aimed at RR)
made me realize something important about our poet’s character.
She is not nearly as hard boiled as she would like people to
believe.
Even after she has moved on from someone, she still retains
some measure of tenderness towards that person.
I can’t say this is true of all her ex-lovers, but it is
clear from this poem that she still had tender feelings towards the person she
was writing it to.
In some measure, she showed similar feelings towards me even
in the aftermath of her forgiveness poem – as demonstrated in her poems about
compassion and quick sand.
Even some of her writing about her chef ere couched with
similar tones, even though he eventually became her primary stalker for a time.
I know almost nothing about those who preceded him, with the
possible exception of her ex-husband, who remained her friend despite his years
of jealousy while they were still married.
I suspect she would have even retained some tender feelings
towards the man who drugged and raped her, had he been satisfied with what she
had offered rather than seeking to take more than he deserved.
After all, he had hit on her so often (even though he was
her girlfriend’s boyfriend) she appeared to take pity on him and consented to
have sex originally with him. Had he been satisfied with that and refrained
from his horrible act later, she might have had some better feelings towards
him later.
How she felt about her female lover is a mystery, though the
woman eventually also became a stalker, and ruined whatever kind of peaceful
resolution they might have come to.
Our poet once told me that there were always stalkers in her
life, some worse than others.
Yet I suspect that she is far more vulnerable behind that
hard shell she retains, and seeks to be firm in order to keep from being hurt.
So the guy she said had not gotten back to her finally got
back to her and got her a job – wel almost
The scary part of all this is how much it sounds like it did
four years ago after she had left her job in New York state, reinventing to the
role of newby trainee, who wants to learn all there is to learn about her new
job so she can impress her new boss.
she's met several
bosses already and this suggests a pecking order she may be able to trickle up
just as she has done each and every other place she's worked
she won't say what the job is for privacy and not put a jinx
on it, but most likely she does not want any of her enemies to do anything to
screw things up before she has her chance to get into it for real
she has taken several steps back in this piece perhaps
because she haven't posted in a while and skipped some of the intermittent
steps that show her reading her mask to the new reality
while she complains about how stagnant her life has been
lately, it is still pretty packed, she claims, neglecting to mention her recent
trip to The majestic hotel near Asbury Park, a place he has taken previous
trips to possibly to visit the same person
True to form when she regains her sense of entitlement she
tries to convince people just how overworked she is
She claims she's not taking on the work like she used to, so
she feels slower and the use of the word
“women” suggest it is some sort of not profit maybe, a women's center perhaps
and this makes two points with her new boss in one sentence
She's obviously leaping into the new job with two feet,
doing a lot at the start then getting overworked to the point where she needs
to reduce the workload and so she winds up doing less later still overworked
anyway
The new job apparently will emphasize her writing skills
most likely PR
she mentions how completed she feels to write even though
she does not feel particularly philosophical .she must assume her new boss is
among those reading her blog although she clearly his referencing to someone
else as well
She said she has to do some catching up in the blog to keep
people apprised of her current situation
She said she had her second interview with the organization
which he had been waiting to hear from and who she thought had forgotten about
her.
she was scheduled for
a third interview with the boss of bosses yesterday and has been asked to study
up on a bunch of subjects relevant to the writing position and then discuss
them over the phone in order to prepare for fourth interview
The fourth interview with the boss of bosses is scheduled
for July 7th
She said the job meets all her criteria and then some at a
reputable non-profit for a cause close to her heart in the Union Square area
It is run by incredibly gifted kind and generous people who
seem to respect those around them and have already demonstrated and ability to
see what she has to offer and to value it and it is a writing position
She seems to be scolding her old bosses for not appreciating
her well buttering up her new bosses her
Her wording suggests that she will be working with disabled
or some sort she says she hasn't talked about pay yet but won't settle for less
than she previously made
In some way she says the job seems too good to be true
It is very difficult to tell just how much of all this is
real since everything hinges on things that I know nothing about and how this
fits into her ability to seek power
but she is clearly
sending a message to others that she has landed something better despite those others
getting rid of her
She goes on to describe the level of difficulty in her
determination to do well the materials she's been asked to peruse or apparently
dense and bureaucratic.
nothing new to her
though she's spent hours pouring over it, making written notes then computer
notes, then flashcards
She met with a friend-- who worked with the same clientele tthis not profit advocate for --
to discuss what she learned and how she waits for the phone call on the boss to
discuss what she learned in order to prepare for the meeting with the boss
She seems to think that the boss has stacked the deck in her
favor and trying to see how well she does in dealing with the dense material
and this is something like she had to go through when taking SATs and hopes
that his faith in her is legitimate, and that her task will be to convince
others and not disappoint them.
She's also a bit scared that after putting so much effort in
time into this she won't get the job although her intuition tells her she will
But even if she doesn't, it is how she moves through the
world she writes learning no matter what topic it is never a waste no applying
yourself wholeheartedly and 110% towards your journey
She is trying to avoid some of the mistakes in the past.
this is not a reflection on her Worth or her abilities or her deservingness
in the meantime, she
has to drive herself slightly nuts waiting for today's goal and then waiting a
week for hopefully final interview
she posted nothing since this
it's difficult to tell how the phone interview went or if
there will be a follow-up on July 7th even if the phone call went well she
might be too scared to jinx it with another posting until she is sure of what
she's got
I wake to a chill I did not face by day, a limb, a foot --
in this case -- exposed to the unheated room, stirring me up from a dream I can
barely recall, and can't get back to, vague images like shreds of clouds I lose when
I tried to grasp them, and when I sleep again it is to a new dream I know I
won't recall later either, just ether through which my mind passes on this trip
from waking to sleep to waking again, my fingers this time clawing my way out
of this cocoon, more lingering images, more shreds though through it all, one
persisting nagging thing a set of eyes, staring back out of the fog, one I know or knew and can never forget
The train, long and determined, pushes through the landscape
of changing leaves, golden tears mixed with crimson bits of blood, the year
soon trudging to close
I do not look too far
ahead, dreading the landscape I know will arrive once the last and leaves
expire, a year full of old ghosts I can’t
be shed of -- perhaps do not want to be, the bumps and bruises of this Trek through Time
mostly forgotten, leaving the litter of fonder memories, the golden crimson I
recall long after it has gone to brown, this never ending ritual in which I
play only a small part
Her music plays in my head even when I'm not hooked into
hers website, or listening to the songs she gave me or the others I stole off
the internet, some she wrote about someone she loved, others written by others
she makes her own
when she sings I hear
it all even when I walk alone, her songs are the songs of the river and the air,
the landscape I shape in my head from back when she put it all together
Not all her songs happy, most not, of heartache, of passion,
one past of which I share while her voice speaks to shadows of people long ago,
far away, of people I will never know while I sometimes -- in the dark of night -- pretend they are for me, even though I man the
target of discord echoes, the rage she has experienced, the hatred she harbors
for me and me alone
Her music playing beyond me as part of some universe in
which I play no part, the endless record repeated over and over with me too
scared to pick up the needle, unable to stand the silence I know will hurt me
deeply when the music finally stops -- as it must
I'm here in my alcove, waiting for the lights to come on or
go off, for some master wizard to flick the lighter-like device that determines
our fate, snatching illumination we need in order to keep on when all inside
seems so dim
I'm waiting for her
to come or go, to climb the stairs or desend them, to make her way past where I
sit so she can ignore me, to make it clear by not looking at me that I do not
exist.
I am the light lost in her life, flicked out of existence by
the wizard’s switch
I can almost hear the snakes that crawl through these walls,
speaking to me in tongues nobody else understands but me, warning me to behave
or risk turning myself into stone, spiders fleeing at my feet, the blood of the
innocent unicorn on my hands on my lips as I wait for immortality I don't
deserve
am I the undeserving so cast out of that churchyard, unable
to explain the great disarray I found.
But who in all this is really evil? I
Are we not all just a little bit tainted, to do what we must
to survive
and can I pass
judgment on others when I've done as much as they
