Tuesday, July 30, 2013

You say many things.
You say that I am beautiful,
and that I am fat.
Not as fat now,
although the stretch marks on my hips
speak to the days of my youth
when the mysterious god of puberty
deemed me worthy
to drink his nectar.

So many things come out of your mouth.
One day I asked why you were so mean
and you said I'd understand when I was older.
I'm older now and I still don't understand.

I wonder about you,
I wonder about your thoughts
and my dreams.
I wonder if they'll ever reconcile,
stranger faces in stranger's places.
Your hand never in mine,
I guess it should have been my hand in yours.

I never knew that pleasure.
It doesn't matter now.

Once you hugged me with one arm
and I knew that you could love me.
I'm too far away from that now.
From a distance, everything looks beautiful.
You'll always be terrifyingly beautiful.
Terrifying me, beautifully.
I'm sorry.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Slowly

I watched a snake once, swallow a rabbit.
Fourth grade, the reptile zoo
the rabbit stiff, nose in, bits of litter stuck to its fur,

its head clenched in the wide
jaws of the snake, the snake
sucking it down its long throat.

All throat that snake—I couldn't tell
where the throat ended, the body
began. I remember the glass

case, the way that snake
took its time (all the girls, groaning, shrieking
but weren't we amazed, fascinated,

saying we couldn't look, but looking, weren't we
held there, weren't we
imagining—what were we imagining?)

Mrs. Peterson urged us to move on girls,
but we couldn't move. It was like
watching a fern unfurl, a minute

hand move across a clock. I didn't know why
the snake didn't choke, the rabbit never
moved, how the jaws kept opening

wider, sucking it down, just so
I am taking this in, slowly,
taking it into my body:

this grief. How slow
the body is to realize.
You are never coming back.

Donna Mancini

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

The Russian Greatcoat

While my children swim off the breakwater,
while my wife sleeps beside me in the sun,
I recall how you once said you knew
a sure way to paradise or hell.
Years ago, you stood on the Covington bridge,
demanded I throw my coat into the Ohio—
my five dollar "Russian greatcoat,"
my "Dostoevsky coat," with no explanations,
simply because you asked.

From that height, the man-sized coat fell
in slow motion, floated briefly,
one sinking arm bent at the elbow.
At first, I evade the question when my wife asks
as if just thinking of you were an act of betrayal.
The cigarette I shared with you above the river.
Our entrance into the city, your thin black coat
around both our shoulders. Sometimes I can go
weeks without remembering.

Theodore Deppe

Thesis Frustrations

No one's around. NO ONE'S AROUND.  Everyone can take their bloody (pardon my English) vacations and leave me here in limbo and want me to be done by the end of August if they're not even around? WHAT?!

Not to mention, just handed in a printed copy of my objectives and hypotheses, materials and methods, and results and all I got was "it's thin". Well yes it's freaking thin, what do you want me to say? I had like four outcome measures, how much more shall I make of the data? It's RESULTS. I just say what was significant, what wasn't, give them some tables, done. Right?

If it's not right, then TELL ME what I'm doing wrong. Clearly, I've never written a thesis before and any failing on my part is not my failing, but a failure of my committee to give me an understanding of what is expected and needed. Because to be honest, I have no idea.



So let me drown in my sorrows, struggle for one day longer.
What is a thesis but a collection of words
written unromantically about the most romantic topic in the world.


Thursday, July 18, 2013

That Reminds Me

Just imagine yourself seated on a shadowy terrace,
And beside you is a girl who stirs you more strangely than an
      heiress,
It is a summer evening at its most superb,
And the moonlight reminds you that To Love is an active verb.
And your hand clasps hers, which rests there without shrinking,
And after a silence fraught with romance you ask her what she is
      thinking,
And she starts and returns from the moon-washed distances to the
      shadowy veranda,
And says, Oh I was wondering how many bamboo shoots a day it
      takes to feed a baby Giant Panda.
Or you stand with her on a hilltop and gaze on a winter sunset,
And everything is as starkly beautiful as a page from Sigrid Undset,
And your arm goes round her waist and you make an avowal
      which for masterfully marshaled emotional content might have
      been a page of Ouida's or Thackeray's,
And after a silence fraught with romance she says, I forgot to or-
      der the limes for the Daiquiris.
Or in a twilight drawing room you have just asked the most mo-
      mentous of questions,
And after a silence fraught with romance she says, I think this
      little table would look better where that little table is, but
      then where would that little table go, have you any sugges-
      tions?
And that's the way they go around hitting below our belts;
It isn't that nothing is sacred to them, it's just that at the Sacred
      Moment they are always thinking of something else.

Ogden Nash

Monday, July 15, 2013

Heh.

"Do you love me?" she asked,
eyes wide and trusting.
And I smiled and said, "No."

The day she left was a sunny day,
the universe didn't cry with me.
Purely my fault, you see.

I didn't have it in me
to just let her love be.
I doubted too hard
the value of my heart,
so I let her sail away,
leaving only a part of me to stay.

I once used to consider myself brilliant,
and now I wonder where it all went wrong.
Somewhere between my pride and my gun,
I let it all run downhill,
and all the while I thought I was right.
Turns out, there is no such thing as right,
only left,
I'm left behind.

So if I could do it again,
I'd do it just the same.
I do not have it in me to love the pain,
the pleasure, the core of being.
I simply am what I am,
and I will let myself be.
And one day, I hope to see her baby
and know that was never my life to breathe.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

And So It Begins...

Thesis editing.

Just got my first edit back. Not good, apparently my grammar is not as good as I thought. But I did always claim to be grammar RCMP, not gestapo level. I even got a book about grammar called, "The Elements of Style". I think it's worth a read.

Apparently, my writing is too "80s young woman style", and "too romanticised". My thesis isn't a romance, who knew? I thought it was an ode to PCOS.

Oh PCOS, with your face so fair,
why do you give women lots of facial hair?

Right, onwards to editing....

Be prepared to hear more of this epic saga.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Portrait of an ENFJ - The Giver

If you wanted to know me a bit better...

As an ENFJ, your primary mode of living is focused externally, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit into your personal value system. Your secondary mode is internal, where you take things in primarily via your intuition.

ENFJs are people-focused individuals. They live in the world of people possibilities. More so than any other type, they have excellent people skills. They understand and care about people, and have a special talent for bringing out the best in others. ENFJ's main interest in life is giving love, support, and a good time to other people. They are focused on understanding, supporting, and encouraging others. They make things happen for people, and get their best personal satisfaction from this.

Because ENFJ's people skills are so extraordinary, they have the ability to make people do exactly what they want them to do. They get under people's skins and get the reactions that they are seeking. ENFJ's motives are usually unselfish, but ENFJs who have developed less than ideally have been known to use their power over people to manipulate them.

ENFJ's are so externally focused that it's especially important for them to spend time alone. This can be difficult for some ENFJs, because they have the tendency to be hard on themselves and turn to dark thoughts when alone. Consequently, ENFJs might avoid being alone, and fill their lives with activities involving other people. ENFJs tend to define their life's direction and priorities according to other people's needs, and may not be aware of their own needs. It's natural to their personality type that they will tend to place other people's needs above their own, but they need to stay aware of their own needs so that they don't sacrifice themselves in their drive to help others.

ENFJ's tend to be more reserved about exposing themselves than other extraverted types. Although they may have strongly-felt beliefs, they're likely to refrain from expressing them if doing so would interfere with bringing out the best in others. Because their strongest interest lies in being a catalyst of change in other people, they're likely to interact with others on their own level, in a chameleon-like manner, rather than as individuals.

Which is not to say that the ENFJ does not have opinions. ENFJs have definite values and opinions which they're able to express clearly and succinctly. These beliefs will be expressed as long as they're not too personal. ENFJ is in many ways expressive and open, but is more focused on being responsive and supportive of others. When faced with a conflict between a strongly-held value and serving another person's need, they are highly likely to value the other person's needs.

The ENFJ may feel quite lonely even when surrounded by people. This feeling of aloneness may be exacerbated by the tendency to not reveal their true selves.

People love ENFJs. They are fun to be with, and truly understand and love people. They are typically very straight-forward and honest. Usually ENFJs exude a lot of self-confidence, and have a great amount of ability to do many different things. They are generally bright, full of potential, energetic and fast-paced. They are usually good at anything which captures their interest.

ENFJs like for things to be well-organized, and will work hard at maintaining structure and resolving ambiguity. They have a tendency to be fussy, especially with their home environments.

In the work place, ENFJs do well in positions where they deal with people. They are naturals for the social committee. Their uncanny ability to understand people and say just what needs to be said to make them happy makes them naturals for counseling. They enjoy being the center of attention, and do very well in situations where they can inspire and lead others, such as teaching.

ENFJs do not like dealing with impersonal reasoning. They don't understand or appreciate its merit, and will be unhappy in situations where they're forced to deal with logic and facts without any connection to a human element. Living in the world of people possibilities, they enjoy their plans more than their achievements. They get excited about possibilities for the future, but may become easily bored and restless with the present.

ENFJs have a special gift with people, and are basically happy people when they can use that gift to help others. They get their best satisfaction from serving others. Their genuine interest in Humankind and their exceptional intuitive awareness of people makes them able to draw out even the most reserved individuals.

ENFJs have a strong need for close, intimate relationships, and will put forth a lot of effort in creating and maintaining these relationships. They're very loyal and trustworthy once involved in a relationship.

An ENFJ who has not developed their Feeling side may have difficulty making good decisions, and may rely heavily on other people in decision-making processes. If they have not developed their Intuition, they may not be able to see possibilities, and will judge things too quickly based on established value systems or social rules, without really understanding the current situation. An ENFJ who has not found their place in the world is likely to be extremely sensitive to criticism, and to have the tendency to worry excessively and feel guilty. They are also likely to be very manipulative and controling with others.

In general, ENFJs are charming, warm, gracious, creative and diverse individuals with richly developed insights into what makes other people tick. This special ability to see growth potential in others combined with a genuine drive to help people makes the ENFJ a truly valued individual. As giving and caring as the ENFJ is, they need to remember to value their own needs as well as the needs of others.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Attempting

I think it's time to write a happy poem,
a poem to write that is happy.

Words elude me when it comes to
this mysterious emotion,
this mysterious feeling of being placated
in the moment.
Is it because it lasts but a moment?
Until something happens that destroys
every fiber of our being
and we are reborn again,
from darkness unto light?

She might be in love, with him,
not yet,
but maybe.
But she is scared of this being taken away,
so she walks in circles
until games become lives,
and trophy wives cast the die,
let the cookie crumble the way it falls,
the maid is here to clean it all up.

This was supposed to be a happy poem,
not an introspective one.
I need to write more happy poems,
happiness is just love won, after all.