I’m Amanda. I’ve got wide eyes, a smart mouth, and a MetroCard. And I’m not afraid to use them.
I’ve been reading some poetry again, and this morning I woke up needing to write some. It was as natural as the need to empty my bladder or eat food before I got dressed.
I tried to explain a dream I keep having in this poem called “Tiny Desks, Big Hearts.”
When I was a kid, I’d sometimes explore the woods behind my house - they belonged to my uncle and were roamed by his four horses. There was a point where the mesquite trees and brush got so thick that the house disappeared. It didn’t take much; it was a small house.
I’d gaze into my backyard from afar and try to really look. The dog shuffled to her water bowl under the outdoor spigot. Our Siamese cat stretched in a tree. My sister carried glasses of iced tea from our kitchen to my dad’s office attached to the garage.
Looking at my home this way made me feel objective and appreciative and rich.
Raymond Carver’s poem “Locking Yourself Out, Then Trying to Get Back In” reminds me of those times:
It’s Poem in Your Pocket Day!
I couldn’t forget about you. (Please excuse the poor editing).
Happy Poem in Your Pocket Day! from Amanda Green on Vimeo.
Another thing Cade and I shared when we hung out at my apartment was one of my favorite Stephen Dunn poems called “The Vanishings.”
I mentioned it when we thought aloud about our compete lack of animosity towards each other. All that pain has been forgiven, if not forgotten. He’s just not on the top of my list of disappointing ex-boyfriends these days.
One of the things I found irritating about him when we were together was his disinterest in my media recommendations. Sharing specific books, songs, films, and so on is one of my favorite ways to show loved ones I care. When someone acts like they’ve been given a homework assignment and refuses to explore it, I feel rejected.
I think, “But I chose this just for you!”
When I mentioned the poem, I automatically went to my bookshelf. I had to make an offering - it was too perfect.
I read this excerpt:
Tonight my dad bailed me out of a problem that was my own fault.
Neither of us had planned on it, but this is one of the ways he says, “I love you,” and one of the ways I say, “I need you to.”
This poem is called “Lies I’ve Told My 3 Year Old Recently”:
Sandra Cisneros is one of my favorite writers. She’s written one novel titled Caramelo, but I love her poetry more.
This poem, “No Mercy” from the incredible collection My Wicked, Wicked Ways, has been on my mind all week:
My sinuses are tingling in pain, the sun never came out today, and worst of all, I’m stuck in this story I’m writing.
I don’t know what I want my very real self to do sometimes. But not knowing what these made-up people should do feels even worse. “The possibilities are endless,” I tell myself. “Just make them do something!”
Happy Poem In Your Pocket Day! I had a lot of fun giving poems to my co-workers last year. Unfortunately, today was full of scrambling for interviews. I was lucky to find special poems for Deedee, TBID, and myself.
And, of course, one for you!
Read some Stephen Dunn, and you’ll see the world differently. Better, I think. This poem is called “Sweetness”:
Case of the Mondays:
Neither desire to write
nor to shelve blog goals.
Weeks ago, I had dinner with TBID and his family at this really swanky place. I felt anxious before, because I don’t really enjoy food the way that they do. When I eat something, I don’t really want to know how it was made and I don’t want to examine every little taste. Eating just doesn’t excite me like that.
