To Have Without Holding
Learning to love is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms
rustling the sheets and snapping the blinds
that thwack like rubber bands
in an open palm.
It hurts to love wide open
stretching the muscles that feel
as if they are made of wet plaster,
then of blunt knives, then
of sharp knives.
It hurts to thwart the reflexes
of grab, of clutch; to love and let
go again and again. It pesters to remember
the lover who is not in the bed,
to hold back what is owed to the work
that gutters like a candle in a cave
without air, to love consciously,
conscientiously, concretely, constructively.
I can’t do it, you say it’s killing
me, but you thrive, you glow
on the street like a neon raspberry.
You float and sail, a helium balloon
bright bachelor’s button blue and bobbing
on the cold and hot winds of our breath,
as we make and unmake in passionate
diastole and systole the rhythm
of our unbound bonding, to have
and not to hold, to love
with minimized malice, hunger
and anger moment by moment balanced.
– Marge Piercy
It is such a gorgeous day outside, and I don’t have to work or go to school, so I decided to bring all of my homework and spend the day outside at my favourite coffee shop. There’s something intellectually stimulating here that makes me want to read, listen to some chill music and maybe even write a blog post. Currently, I’m supposed to be studying for my Political science midterm that it tomorrow, but that’s not happening. So instead I’ll listen to some NeedtoBreathe, which is a fantastic band by the way, check them out. And those Salted Caramel Mochas are like insanely sweet heaven in a cup, yum.
So this semester I’m struggling with this Creative Writing class I’m taking. I took it for the fiction aspect, but realized too late that there are 3 parts to this course: fiction, poetry, and screenwriting. Fantastic. I have severe difficulties with poetry, I just end up sounding so cliche and corny. Always happens. So the first assignment of the poetry unit is to write a 20 line poem and I’m in pain. Not that anyone cares about my poetry-handicappedess, but I enjoy complaining. I don’t even want to think about screenwriting.
But a silver lining, I’m seeing Ides of March tonight with some friends. Yay for Toonie Tuesday! Two bucks for a George Clooney/Ryan Gosling movie? Thank you movie gods.
Switching topics again, I’m feeling the strange desire to be edgier lately. I want a lip piercing, and more ear piercings. I think its just the high from my tattoo, but still…
And I got my halloween costume. No slutty halloween for me thank you very much. I’m going to be… a purple crayon! I have a Crayola dress, so excited.
I love fall, I need to have more days like these. Chilly air, sunshine, coffee, and music. And I keep thinking about my tattoo, so happy with it. I want another one.