I’m willing to share

Everything

with a man

who is also

Willing

To share it with me.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Yesterday was quite a day. Started out at the doctor. He read my MRI. His words were, “Pretty much every vertebrae in your neck is herniated or bulging. You will probably have some level of pain from it the rest of your life. A few in your lower back are herniated and bulging as well.” That was not welcome news. But what was welcome was the back massage and other treatment they gave me. My neck feels much better, even though it still hurts, and I have far from full range of motion. At least it’s not radiating down my arm now. My back is also still in some pain, but also better.

Then I went to get the check for my car. The guy from the insurance asked me to call him when I was on my way, so he’d be sure to be there. I did, he said he was there. Turns out it is a place called “Insurance Auto Sales”. So I got there, went inside to ask for him, took a seat to wait. After 20 minutes I was getting edgy, I didn’t want to wait all afternoon. Finally someone else came in, and the girl looked up at me again and asked if I’d seen “Tony”. I said, “no, I’ve been waiting for 20 minutes now.” The guy who came in said, “oh well, he’s out in his car, I’ll go tell him.”

Why the hell did this guy not come in to see if I was there, I have no idea. He works out of his car, but was I supposed to know that? What an idiot. Anyway, I got my check, and went home.

Today I have to deposit the check, and go check out another car.

Last night we went to an open mic night for poetry. There were lots of poets. Lots of unknowns like me, and a few well known, in the area, who have published volumes of their poems and are kind of celebrity to this crowd. It was bigger than I expected. Maybe 100 people. They broadcast it outside, too, for those seated out there.

My friend Beth the blues singer, was called and she got up and sang, acapella, my poem, “It Will Have to Wait.” I was SOOO nervous, to have my stuff read, or in this case sung, but heard I guess was what made me uncomfortable, by all these people. But she sang it beautifully. She loves jazz, and sang jazz for a long time, so she did it in that genre, which fits my poetry, because I don’t have a standard cadence to most of it. She got a decent round of applause, she gave me the credit for the poem. A few people made a point to let me know they liked it. The whole thing made me cry. Not sadness, just emotional release.

There is something so different about having people hear it out loud. When I write it is just a small, personal expression, and usually has a lot of meaning to me, but I try to write it so others can relate. This particular poem told a story, not literally true, but expressed something personal to me. It is the reading aloud of it, as if the energy had now been released to the universe again, (because publishing it releases it in a big way also). In this case, I was not anonymous, I was the woman sitting at the table.

Beth wants me to feel able to get up and read it myself. I am a long way from doing that. But I can see that it allows for the poem to be read exactly as you meant it to be heard. Maybe someday.

The only thing I didn’t like about last night was that there were so many angry poets. Their poems harped far too long on social injustices, mostly. I am not judging them, they have all most likely lived through injustice that I cannot fathom. Like the woman who was so articulate, who was of Hindu-Moslem parentage, was tiny, and was a lesbian. No judgment, it’s just that I dislike being angry, or feeling angry.

Perhaps I’m lucky? I’ve survived domestic abuse, and have a ¾ complete book about that experience. I never put it to a poem, I don’t think. It never occurred to me. Maybe because by the time I began writing poetry in earnest, I’d worked through it so it no longer hurt me.

Anyway, the first night Beth sang my poem was just a taste. Last night it was in front of other accomplished poets. I was invited to join their group, Keep St. Pete Lit. It was, I suppose, kind of a coming out from me. No longer the anonymous poet.

It was an amazing night. Made all those vertebrae in my neck feel better, lol.

Love and light all.

Letting it all go
Unhappy marriage,
Miserable love affair.
Life in the dregs.

Letting it all go.
Even the things I held onto
Will blow away with the wind.

A home I love
Days at sea on our boat
Mornings on the deck
In the cool sunlight.

Making space now
For love that works
For an even happier home.
For a life that satisfies,
Life in the ethereal blue

I’ll keep the friendships.
I’ll keep the love.
I’ll take it with me,
And multiply it.

Multiplicity replacing duplicity.
Abundance over lack.
Joy over sorrow.

Life, precious life.
I won’t waste another minute