who will gather
the shards of my heart
hold them with two warm palms
my hands don’t reach
these arms too long
the world winds
sometimes slow sometimes fast
i walk praying
the rattle of this heart not so loud
for people to hear
in a block of sun listening
for warms on my skin
worst times can’t get out of bed
for fear this heart cracks even more
tried tape and glue
even Divine thread from God’s lovers
but i fear
i need two hands
to make a home inside my center
keep pieces of this heart together
like two pals in prayer.
— Ruth Forman
I’ve given my dating self a rest since getting back from vacation. Part of that, for sure, is because I’ve been much too busy with work. But that’s really only part. Mostly I think I’m just fed up, just can’t work up the necessary energy to get back out there. I had a lot more to say about my adventures in computer romance land, but don’t seem to have much energy for any of that, either.
I write jokingly about joining the Spinster Sisterhood, but I am only half joking. I would wear that t-shirt happily before agreeing to squander another moment with some of the eligibles I’ve met these last few months.
And then there is the curious development of AC calling to say he’s thinking of coming to stay in Brooklyn for the summer. What does he even mean when he says that? What on earth would I do with him here in my not-in-any-way-neat-and-orderly life? How many hours would we last before the first clash?
I learned some things about the nove otto today. First, it’s a form that was created really recently, only in 2006! That’s kind of cool and almost makes me want to stick with it for the month. It was, apparently, created by someone named Scott Alcorn (should I know him?). Second, if you do multiple stanzas, the 3rd, 6th and 9th lines of the additional stanzas keep the “c” rhyme of the first stanza. So the second stanza would be d/d/c/e/e/c/f/f/c. Interesting to have that rhyme run through the whole of a longer poem.
How is it you can hold my heart?
Are you some strong, dark, magic art
I can’t resist, can’t push aside?
Your voice on this cold night pulls me
toward you, back. As if I can’t see
the inevitable collide —
our needs, our wants, breaking hard.
All feelings raw, we’ve no safeguard
against the swamping, flooding tide.
How it is you stay in my mind?
Why do I keep thinking I’ll find
a way to make us more joyride
than crash and roll, than crash and burn?
I hear you laugh, feel my heart turn,
forgetting every time I’ve cried.
But I still can’t make myself choose
I still know up front what I’ll lose
if I turn, my arms open wide.
Hmm … clearly willing to keep playing with the nove otto a little while. And just as clearly not yet feeling any real level of comfort with it. The rhyming really bugs me. I need to think about that some more.