Rob today, and ice

[fflo]

Not my brother.  Brezsny.

In her poem "Catch a Body," Ilse Bendorf says she dislikes the advice "Don't ever tell anybody anything." On the other hand, "Tell everyone everything" isn't the right approach, either, she says. Judging from your astrological omens, Cancerian, I surmise that you're wavering between those two extremes. You're tempted to think you've got to do one or the other. Should you cultivate the power that comes from being silent, and keep people guessing about your true feelings? Or should you seek greater intimacy but risk giving away your power by confessing all your inner thoughts? I suggest you take a middle path. Tell the vivid truth, but carefully and incrementally.

I like it.

I have my purple boots on again today.  They're good for stepping into deep snow when it's the alternative to slick ice.  So much slick ice about.  Aboot.  A boot for the slick ice aboot.

ETA:  See comments for the poem.

Comments

[fflo.livejournal.com]

Catch a Body


Salinger, I’m sorry, but “Don’t ever tell
anybody anything” is a string of words
I would like to wrap up in canvas and sink
to the bottom of the Hudson, or extract
by laser from the ribcage of all of us
who ever believed it, who felt afraid
to miss someone, to be the last one
standing. “Tell everyone everything” is
not exactly right, but I do believe that if
your mother looks radiant in violet
you should tell her, or when a juvenile
sparrow thrashes its wings in dustpiles
and reminds you of a lover’s eyelashes,
you should say so. We are islands all of us,
but we are also boats, our secrets flares,
pyrotechnic devices by which we signal
there’s someone in here we’re still alive!
So maybe it’s, “don’t be afraid.” We can
rewrite Icarus, flame-resistant feathers,
wax that won’t melt, I mean it, I’ll draw up
a prototype right now, that burning ball
of orange won’t stop us, it’ll be everything
we dream the morning after, even if we fall
into the sea—we are boats, remember?
We are pirates. We move in nautical miles.
Each other’s anchors, each other’s buoys,
the rocket’s red, already the world entire.

-- Ilse Bendorf

[browngirl.livejournal.com]

I love this poem and have always wanted to title a story from it.

Also, hooray for purple boots!

[paperkingdoms]

Mmm. Yum. And also the last sentence from Rob, up above, and purple boots, and needing purple boots.

[fflo.livejournal.com]

Hello, Baltimore. :)

[paperkingdoms]

I can see the Arts Tower from my hotel room.

[fflo.livejournal.com]

The refurbishment was after my time there. We still called it the Bromo Seltzer tower. Way back when, the story goes, it even had a giant blue Bromo Seltzer bottle on top of it.

[paperkingdoms]

(It is also the portal I can reach from my room.)

[fflo.livejournal.com]

(Okay, now I'm jealous.)

P.S.

[fflo.livejournal.com]

Re: P.S.

[paperkingdoms]

Those are some pretty awesome boots.

[fflo.livejournal.com]

Well, the pull thing came off of one of mine not long after I got them. I still have it somewhere & when i come across it consider taking them to a cobbler to get it sewed/glued back on. The cobbler downtown closed, tho, and the other one I know of would mean going to the mall. I'm not so crazy about going to the mall.

[paperkingdoms]

Mall going definitely requires a particular mood. One where you can sorta sink back into an anthropological sort of state. It helps if this coincides with low mall population, and efficient shoe fixing.

[custardfairy.livejournal.com]

There's a cobbler in Ypsi!

Rapid Shoe Fix
115 Pearl St

[fflo.livejournal.com]

Thanks, H! In my near future: a probable wobble-hobble to the cobbler.