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Oh, that I could scatter my heart as thinly as wild seeds upon the heath // Part 17

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The Poet With His Face In His Hands

You want to cry aloud for your mistakes. But to tell the truth the world doesn’t need anymore of that sound.

So if you’re going to do it and can’t stop yourself, if your pretty mouth can’t hold it in, at least go by yourself across

the forty fields and the forty dark inclines of rocks and water to the place where the falls are flinging out their white sheets

like crazy, and there is a cave behind all that jubilation and water fun and you can stand there, under it, and roar all you

want and nothing will be disturbed; you can drip with despair all afternoon and still, on a green branch, its wings just lightly touched

by the passing foil of the water, the thrush, puffing out its spotted breast, will sing of the perfect, stone-hard beauty of everything.”

― Mary Oliver

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I’m wrapping up this incredible week with two more videos of my poems and their background/insider information! Thanks for sticking with me!  DAY 6: Open Letter To The Last Person I Will Ever Love I wrote this poem right at the end of 2008 - probably December - right after I made the 2009 Emerson College Slam Team and right before I left Boston to finish my last semester of school out in L.A. It was originally published in my 2010 book A History of Silence and is currently available in the 2014 e-book version. This poem is so unique for me because I spent a week walking around with the title in my head before I ever wrote anything. I knew exactly what the purpose of the poem was and when I finally sat down to write it, it maybe took me an hour or two. I wrote it on the floor in my living room apartment in one sitting. I performed it for the first time at the Cantab Lounge in Cambridge, MA. At the time,  I did most of my editing while writing, so I didn’t do much editing after I wrote the poem. I did do quite a bit of grammatical editing when I re-published this in my e-book version of A History of Silence. This poem isn’t written about a real person - it truly was written to someone who didn’t exist yet for me - and I think that gave me a lot of freedom and the ability to be honest in a new way. I wasn’t beholden to a person who already existed or to describe a relationship I was currently in. But I knew what I needed to say and promise to the last person. There have been comments about “Kona” not being an island, but the name for an area of the Big Island of Hawaii. I am totally aware of this fact. I wanted to pay homage to the black beaches and white stones that I saw when I was in Hawaii in this world I was creating, but this poem takes place in a fictional place in my head. I created an island called Kona to callback to its namesake. Some of my favorite lines are “I am constantly the wrong age for my body,” “If I will know how to stop speaking airport,” and “You don’t ever say much/ you just stand like a mesa in the desert.” I could spend a lot of time attempting to explain what all of the images in the poem mean, but I prefer for my images to mean what you need them to mean. “I If will touch you like linoleum,” is going to mean something to me, and something different to you. And that’s totally okay with me.  I performed this poem in the final round on the 2009 CUPSI Finals Stage as the last poet of the tournament. It was one of the most thrilling and emotional and empowering experiences I’d had in slam up until that point. This poem has lifted me up to a place I did not know I could go and I hope it finds a way to lift you as well. — Carrie

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Undertow

Have you ever been in a season where you are so overwhelmed and, dare I say, distraught, feel so helpless, that you find yourself constantly resisting the urge to be very self-destructive.

And you know that you will very likely continue resisting the urge because you are too strong, too stubborn, and let’s be honest, too stuck in your ways.

But it is still there, like a current.  And you find yourself wishing that you would, could give in, that for once in your life you could just act and not think, and you think that if you could do that, if you were just reckless enough, then your actions would match your heart and brain;

that however ill advised, dangerous, or stupid, you would be congruous- for a few moments you would align and people would see you for the FUCKING BASKET CASE YOU REALLY ARE

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Is it “Happy Impeachment” or “Merry Impeachment”? I don’t wanna offend anyone.

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Historic Styles of Ornament, 1898. Published by Batsford, London. With 1500 examples, 100 color plates, 75 chromolithographs. Complete book via archive.org

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Reasons my new physics prof is adorable

- on the first day of class he brought his favorite toy truck from when he was a child - is from Argentina and has a cute accent and sometimes speaks in Spanish on accident - teaches us Spanish phrases for fun - very tall and awkward and has super curly hair that falls into his face constantly - giggles at his own jokes - on the second day of class he showed us pictures of his cat eating a salami - the cat’s name is Pants

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your 20’s are all about finding THE wackiest, THE ugliest, short-sleeve button-up shirts that no one in their right mind would wear, and then wearing them as much as possible

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I am currently studying memes academically. I thought you might enjoy the current proposed “ages” of internet memes

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Heart attacks symptoms are different for women. I recently learned this. 

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legends 

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The Parent Trap (1998, Nancy Meyers)

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“live fast, die young. bad girls do it well” I sing as I organize my sock drawer before going to bed at 9:30pm on a Friday night

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shakespeare villains be like today i will cause problems on purpose