poem: Magical Thinking

If only I could stop biting my nails

he would notice me,

When I lose another 10 pounds

I'll get another chance,

A new pair of shoes, and they

will not overlook me for the position,

If I can just look young enough, always,

they will stop leaving me for others,

if I make my presence less powerful,

they'll all stop excluding me,

and I prove often enough that I really am

a good person, he'll stop believing

all of the terrible things he's worked up

in his mind, about me.

 

If I learn to believe the correct words

God will always provide,

If I start the love affair under the auspices

of the new moon, he will always be

powerless against the charms of the more beautiful

than me;

if only I could get this job, my mother will believe

that all the sacrifice, was worth it,

If I practice saying the right positive affirmations

I can banish all of my discomfort,

God has a reason for everything, especially

the punishment for being born in poverty,

and if I run far and fast enough, I can pretend

it wasn't really rape, all those years ago.

 

If only I had been more accommodating,

he would have stopped screaming at me,

If I carry this cross on my bosom,

nothing can get to me,

If I can write beautifully and importantly enough

the work will speak for itself- I will not need popularity

to get read,

If I could only get someone new to love me,

I will no longer be vulnerable to old rejection,

if I could speak convincingly enough,

she would finally believe I tell the truth;

When I am smart and talented enough,

I will finally be loved,

and if only I could learn to walk tall enough,

it would all magically stop hurting me.

 

Reviews

[h d e rushin]

but magic holds no safe hiding places, no snake dance where the charmer fascinates the
venomous serpents that life on this earth wraps around our feet. Yet, behind the heart of
so many women is this energy, this pleasing vigorous quality, this willingness to make whole
something that is not incomplete. I'm reminded of Ntozake Shange's play "For Colored Girls"
where the poet of the group admits that she doesn't want to write in any language but
just dance, because dance takes all the pain away. But however ceremonial the dance
in which snakes and their images are handled (mythological), there are still snakes (pains) on the
hillside.

This is an extremely personal poem. "If I can write beautifully and importantly enough the work
will speak for itself" is a line that sometimes turns our writerscafe.org into something that
its not. It is not a competition, nor a race to be loved. But you are a beautiful writer and
you are loved. And that"s the irony. Tremendous work here my friend. Hard to read, but
no doubt, even harder to share with strangers.........

Magic is making the woman, cut in half's, reappear. dana

[Marie Anzalone]

We live closer to death here, dana... I think that is why, maybe, we have less confidence that good behavior is supposed to reward you in this life. People here live for the afterlife. What we all have are small rituals, and interior voices. When they do not work, when life provesjust as harsh as we are afraid it really is... is it any wonder that we then turn to reality-altering activities, to magic, to art, to exericse- to anything that gives us reprieve and hope for a new day? I wrote this after I actually caught myself thinking the first and last lines of each stanza, my own honest asessment, my own unbearable pain. But I expanded it, trying to look back on other times in my life, magazine messages, advice from others, things I see others saying, trying to weave a tapestry framework for my own experience. I think when we can relate to something outside of ourselves, we somehow do transcend. Even if momentarily. How many of us ever actually believe we deserve the love that we do get, and how many of us truly ever stop looking for external validation?

[Corset]

You have written the soul of 99.99 percent of the population in this one, it's hopes and fears, mores and morals, the advice that older women give to younger to help them through and then repeated by the younger once the child is old enough to experience such tragedies of the human spirit, usually inflicted by someone more tragic than ourselves. You are on a roll. Love this one too.

[Marie Anzalone]

WC ate my responses to you and dana :-( have to see now if I can replicate.

I think that if we are honest, we all do have these interior voices, these small rituals, these great expectations. We want to believe that if we do it right, we are entitled to some reward. Some cosmic recognition, maybe? So we internalize our beliefs into others, as you point out here. I appreciate the review and reflection, Corset... thank you very much for stopping by.

[Corset]

I think you are correct Marie, we do all have them, wheteher we are honest with ourselves or not, and not only does our left brain interact with our right brain, but if you are perfectly still, you can hear so much more than you ever bargained for.

[Emily B]

we are the magic, when, when, when will we stop waiting on others to see it?

[Marie Anzalone]

probably when human beings stop depending on connection with other human beings, and/or stop making mistakes?

[John Jackson (El Juero)]

I know you, and you know me. I believe in you. You are everything and more. You are real. I'm not afraid of real. I love you, Mi Amiga.

[Marie Anzalone]

thank you very much, John, for your kind words today. It has been another rough heart week, and I am grateful for the small kindness of reading and taing the time to leave a review. Y a ti tambien, con mucho amor y aprecio por tu presencia e mi vida. saludos y abrazos fuertes. TQM.