"The white fathers told us, "I think, therefore, I am" and the black mother within each of us – the poet – whispers in our dreams, I feel, therefore I can be free."- Audre Lorde

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

without and before him

She tells her story, and he listens
though he's heard it a million times over,
his eyes & his smile tells you it's his first.
She tells her story, the one of the life she had before him,
yet he becomes her memories,
her memories become his.
There is no story, without or before him.
Sixty-five years later, they sit
tea cup in hand, talking about their lives
in first-person narrative
and in these quiet moments,
during an after-dinner tea,
I watch them,
the love thick in the space,
they share as their own,
I hear them,
the words one feels,
and the other speaks...
and I realize that this, this
is what marriage is-
A shared story; two narratives folded into one
so intimately bound,
it is impossible for even the authors to determine where one ends
and the other begins
And I lay here, now in the crest of night,
your arms fold around me, your hand tucked in mine
and the rise and fall of my own thoughts,
begin to match the rhythms of your sleeping breath
In this silence I listen to our own story,
Six, not Sixty years long,
but already it tells of the messiness of heart-break and tragedy,
the strange beauties of redemption and struggle,
the grief and celebration of a love, not always whole,
but always beating towards life.
And in this silence, in our short story
I understand for the first time, the overwhelming beauty and awe of
And this hand, this sleeping hand in mine,
is no longer just my best friend's,
but my husband's.
And I realize, at this moment, more strongly than ever before,
that I will hold this hand, until it is old, until it is wrinkly
until it too, someday holds a cup of tea,
in a warm soft room, after dinner
and tells our story to those who came after.
You'll tell this story,
and I will listen, though I've heard it a million times before,
my smile and my eyes, will tell you it's my first.
..... I look forward to the day,
that you become my memories,
and I become yours.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011


you were that child
beneath and between
flickering screen.
You cried, while they watched
the pain, the colours
penetrate between the spaces
you knew were yours.
Colours. You hated.
Colours. You see. In him. In me.
Tainted and throbbing, like the space left in between.
You were that child,
plucking shards from your knee
from the glass we once shared
from the glass he broke
we bled, we bleed.
but it's him I hold,
him, with fists full.
Him, who watched, who delighted
in the unspeakable colours
as they escaped you, like a death spirit
you breathed in black and white
to escape without the hurt
In you my own heart breaks,
in you my own colours
press too deep.
Without you, I am myself,
that child,
beneath and beyond
that flickering screen.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

lies my mom told me

  1. that Charles (Michael Landon), the Dad off of "Little House on the Prairie", died from a drug overdose.
  2. that hamsters have no teeth

  3. that six year olds who let their mommys curl their bangs are COOL

  4. that Markie Mark from the New Kids on the Block, leaped from roof-top to roof-top, lighting them on fire

  5. that intense fist pumping is expected at ALL concerts

  6. that button-fly jeans never go out of style

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

When a Feeler, forgets to take the Pill

I'm a natural feeler and I forgot to take "the pill" for 3 days. (which terribly and exponentially intensifies my crazy feelings) This is what happened: I cried a lot over weird things.
I cried Sad tears:
-when i was trying to explain to andrew that if he ate after 10pm, his organs wouldn't be able to rest and rejuvenate themselves properly (i felt sad for them) -when i listened to "Puff the Magic Dragon". (the lyrics "one grey night it happened, jackie paper, came no more, and Puff that magic dragon, ceased his fearless roar", gets me every time)

- in the line-up at the bank

- when i couldn't get the smell of buckwheat out of my kitchen
- while reading a book about pigs
- when the application process for college only took me 10 minutes (instead of a week like Grad school did)
- when andrew questioned my vegan soy butter
- when someone i love told me they were thinking about moving to the Suburbs
- because i couldn't pay rent with the Harvey's gift-cards i got for Christmas
- when i saw the words "shannon cardiff" printed on a schedule
- because my armpit hair was less impressive then man-husbands
- when andrew threatened to eat a can of chick-peas, I'd been saving to make hummus (there was a few f-bombs on my part...)
Happy Tears:
- on the side-walk, after receiving my first pay cheque
- while reading a book about the Digestive System (it's just so, so magical)
- while watching Joe Cocker perform at Woodstock, on a library-rented documentary
- while looking at babycats on kijiji
- during Oprah (i cry whenever she does...its CRAZY)
- when the dog on Martha Speaks, lost her ability to speak, but then gained it back again
- while trying to describe my favorite tea

snail coitus makes me smile