Okay, I lied.
And you know things are bad when I lie in a journal that
nobody is meant to read but me.
Not all of what I post is unconsciously addressed at her.
Some is very conscious, perhaps sending a message, perhaps just
because I can’t help having real feeling when I write poetry (even the superficial
and silly romantic stuff).
Maybe I’m fortunate in having my west coast guardian angel
(my cyber nanny) looking over my shoulder to keep me from making a bigger fool
of myself than I already have.
This cyber nanny has been caring for me almost from the very
beginning last spring, scolding me each time I said or did something stupid,
most of all when I posted anything that seemed to provoke a response.
Her scolding came fast and furious last May through August,
telling me which poems she believed I should not have posted, warning me against
make a bad situation worse.
Some poems set my angel off more than others, and few more
than the poem “It doesn’t get any better than this,” which was an extremely
positive poem. I suspect my nanny doesn’t want me to fall into a trance,
attracted to some inner meaning expressed in her posts.
Sometimes, I manage to slip a poem passed my angel, but for
the most part, I put up “safe” poems that appear to have nothing to do with her
and so appease my nanny.
And these non-related poems were designed to throw off
anyone else who might be reading them for clues or build a case against me.
But few poems are created completely consciously, and so
even these most safe poems risk exposing some inner feelings not completely
intended by the poet.
So, not being completely aware of my own posting impact, it
is extremely difficult to determine what is a reaction in her posts, and what
is merely coincidence.
Those references were much clearer last spring and over the
summer, than since fall, when early on she appeared add a few nasty tidbits
into poems that seemed to focus on other subjects. These seemed even more
sparce after her sudden resignation from our office
As the year concluded such references grew less and less frequent
(if not completely gone) bearing no apparent relation to me (though I sometimes
fantasize she is giving a progress report to me and the rest of her fans in the
internet ether).
I have started to look back at the last month or so, finding
only a few possible coincidences that might be mistaken for responses,
suggesting that any attempt to read her work as a response may be self-delusion
after all.
And yet, there are moments when there seems to be a stronger
connection than mere coincidence.
As pointed out in yesterday’s journal, late last year when I
posted something about my favor cat dying, she posted pictures of her cats on
her Facebook page.
Earlier this month, when I posted a poem about another of my
cats dying, Tygrrr, she posted a very powerful poem using William Blake’s Tiger
poem for its structure.
In a desperate attempt to show off, I responded to her Tiger
poem (sneaking it passed my cyber nanny) a collection that parodies Blake’s “Songs
of Innocence.”
This was pure ego gratification since my honest reaction to
her poems remains locked up in this journal or in the pages of my poetry
journal (that would give my cyber nanny a heart attack if I dared post from
these.)
Since the beginning of the year, most of her posts appear to
be focused on the rise and fall of a relationship she’s having with a married
man, a brilliant but painful read I have analyzed here, and reacted to in the
pages of my poetry journal, but posted almost nothing about – so giving her nothing
to react to)
I do have to be very careful about what I post -- not because of my cyber nanny but because
if she is reacting, I do not want her reacting to pieces that I don’t consider
relevant. I’m tempted to post my poetry journal but know that would alienate my
well meaning cyber nanny, who is merely, trying to protect me, not only from
her, but also from my own worst instincts.
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