CaraLisaPowers- Three Names, One Girl

4/9/08
(#9 of 30)

Barry Levinson couldn’t have made it up if he tried
except… that he did

Five years passed since US troops stage managed
the toppling of Sadaam’s statue, blinded by an American flag
head smashing against the ground

Four years since someone figured out that it was a trick

Three years since the Army admitted it

and we sit back in armchairs at desk cubicles wondering
why nothing has changed

and my self-righteous self thinks I know things

4/8/08
(Poem #8 of 30)

It’s amazing that one girl can look so young
and so worn
all at once

All her clothes fit, but she still looks
like she’s dressed up in her mother’s
Sunday best
and more than her hair looks fried
from blow drier

Sipping a cosmopolitan like she can afford
to be here, she’s too eager to be coy

broken by her own expectations
she wants you to fix her but won’t tell you
because she thinks she’s not that kind of girl
she’s spent so much time crafting her
“I don’t need you”
she has no idea how many people have figured out the code

and as she introduces herself as your friend
drops suggestion into the sentence
like we don’t speak the same language
like I don’t know the whole story

I try to remember what it felt like to be broken
that someone that damaged is no one to be jealous of

4/7/08
(#7 of 30)

the world you left behind won’t let you go
I deadbolt our front door to no avail
you tell me they’re all gone but I still know
our chance for peace has long ago set sail

and I’m not saying I’m better than her
or even asking you to have moved on
but when i can’t sleep at night and you stir
i wonder what you’re dreaming until dawn

and I know I have my skeletons too
you never do ask about my hushed tones
both pretended we didn’t have a clue
the day we accidentally switched phones

no one wrote forever on this picture
but you’re my favorite mistake life fixture

4/6/08
(#6 of 30)

waking up alone
i remember, and lose you
all over again

4/5/08
(#5 of 30)

It’s kind of like taking off the training wheels
learning to swim
how to write your own name
tying your shoes
perfecting your free throw

we cheat kids out of how important these things are
because you’re not just learning how to do things
you’re learning that you CAN do things
we say “because” instead of wondering
with them how that thing works

so here I stand, looking down the barrel of 30
wondering how the hell I got here
and if I can go anywhere else
I never learned how to trust myself enough to
take the big chances
never remember that I already have
and survived
thrived even

all I can remember is that Wylie Coyote never fell til he looked down
and I could never not look down, but the coffee table wasn’t too high
I could never do a one handed cartwheel
even with one hand in my pocket, it would escape just in time
to save the right side of my body from the mat
and I am scared as hell to do something people say I’m crazy to
even though I know I’d be crazy not to

I’ve always been a good swimmer
but it seems crazy to jump into the deep end
when you can’t see the edges
from the shore.

4/4/08
(#4 of 30)

I swore I had your number
and part of me still thinks I should stick to my guts
keep you at arms distance and
remember that I’ve seen your type before

but there’s something about April
that makes me think I could be wrong
asking you to check a box as though
every boy I’ve kissed in the last 2 years
hasn’t left the state within the week

and I wish I cared more

but the fact is I’m fast, but not easy
so when the rubber hits the road and
they don’t know how to drive this crazy thing
they take off running
and sometimes it’s me who gets the head start
in the opposite direction

but you make monogamy sound less like monotony
and friend sound like a good thing
and here I go wanting bed time movies again
I’ve watched too many to remember the real
life of where this is going…

beer and pizza and making out sounds like a damn good time
and I feel like I wouldn’t have to write down my
scattered musings
because you’d want to remember every one
and it all sounds so easy and I’m so fast
that maybe I can’t take the two together

Born on the Solstice, I’m like bi-polar with an edge
at least I’m not all Gemini you said
but the Cancer is what scares most boys
she’s not as adverse to staying still long enough
to be held
she kisses back like she means it from somewhere
people aren’t afraid to talk about in public
and she kind of wants a best friend too

4/3/08
(#3 of 30)

i never dreamt you golden
more caramel
black ringlets framing black eyes
pink palmed, tracing the inside of my elbow
where it tickles
with anticipation

folding your foot into my knee joint
is a pathetic attempt to keep you here
beyond alarm clocks and imagined emails
that still need my attention
from yesterday
and your cell phone started ringing 30 minutes ago

we should do the dishes too

it isn’t that the rest of the world falls away here
it just seems less important than your face in the sunlight
and the birds outside

4/2/08
(Poem # 2 of 30)

I am a concept
It has taken me a long time to accept this station in life
I’ve lamented the way that men stare deeply into my eyes
as they tell me how I’m not like any other girl they’ve met
when they have no idea what I’m like
I’ve litanized the facets of my personality-
perceived or actual
that make me a desirable temporary address
the no apologies, no regrets, no bullshit attitude
red lipstick, wind dried hair, and short skirts

and I’ve wondered aloud what makes me such a target
for post adolescent male confusion
but the fact is that every poem I’ve ever written
about everything I say that I’m not is
every poem I wish some confused boy had written
about everything that they think that I am

I’m learning though, that maybe it’s not so bad to be a novelty
in a world so full of the same old thing
maybe a bright yellow jacket on a cloudy day is a tiny
bit of revolution in a world desperate for change
maybe loving a little crazy is an easy way to interrupt the status quo

but the fact is that it’s a sad statement that every boy
i’ve ever kissed has had wonder in his eyes as he pulled away
that i’ve heard “i wish there were more girls like you”
more than i’ve heard “i love you” more than i’ve heard “good morning”
more than i’ve heard my name
from the lips of a man that didn’t make my shoulders scrunch closer together
at his voice

there are more girls like me. plenty of us.
and as you sit there making us into a model plane
for your collection
we are not waiting by the phone
we’re not waiting for anything
we’re the ones the world has been waiting for
and that’s just why you can’t stop watching.

4/1/08
Poem #1 of 30

I am not so fragile when I wake up by my own devices
But when you paint me porcelain
with soft kisses and gentle words
that whisper maybe…
I’m easier to break at the anticipation

I’m not sorry I let myself go crazy on you
I’m just trying not to block out the broken pride
allow myself to savor the hurt
trying to stop the defenses that I’ve built up-
they scream
he was nothing, let it go

But demeaning your character into every little thing
I was already trying to explain away
won’t make me any less the rejected
and you any less the rejector

And I’m trying damn hard not to puff up my indignation
for next time
punishing your successor for your presumptions
because maybe I am the girl I cringe at in movies
throwing her heart onto altars of men
who make her a variable in their own confusion,
tip their hats for a fairy tale ending, move on.

Maybe I am a little more crazy than I let on
or maybe even than I thought, but I took a vow to
love myself no matter how many men are afraid to

and I don’t need anyone to remind me how amazing I am
so stop trying to comfort me with your it’s not you it’s me rhetoric
I don’t feel any less of a woman just because my puzzle piece edges
don’t click with yours

I’m ok with the fact that I am the crazy girl
that will show up unannounced with your favorite cannoli
because you have a big day tomorrow
or will plan a picnic movie screening with raisinets and red wine
or will tell you what she means even if it’s not what
she thinks you want to hear.

I’m sorry if that scares you
but not sorry enough to stop being who I am
and not sorry enough to let you make me a character
in your fictional account of the life
you’re afraid to live

So take all the time you need to find yourself,
figure out what it all means
Stay here, smell the roses, think about the universe
just don’t expect me to be here when you’re done.