Poetry Friday

I disappear sometimes. Like a magician, I make myself invisible to the world outside. I hide at home, in books, and don't return phone calls. All of my sisters do this occasionally. We get used to each others disappearances. The important thing is that we always find our way back. We always reappear.

The Art of Disappearing
by Naomi Shihab Nye

When they say Don't I know you?
say no.

When they invite you to a party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say We should get together
say why?

It's not that you don't love them anymore.
You're trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven't seen in ten years
appears at your door.
don't start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.

Poetry Friday

Sorry I didn't get a post done yesterday. I had great hopes for the day but then a friend of mine (thanks Carol) introduced me to the incredibly funny site It's Lovely, I'll Take It. The site finds some pretty unbelievable photos from real estate listings and posts them with a bit of commentary. Now I love looking at real estate listings. If I get a bit of time and don't know what to do with it, I'll randomly pick a city and look at the listings at Realtor.com. Maybe it's looking at the decorations, maybe it's me being snoopy, maybe it is just seeing what certain amounts can buy. But this is totally different. I truly can't believe what people will highlight as selling points of their house. Or how little people clean before listing their house. Now I won't say my house is clean, but don't you think it should be a little more presentable if you're trying to sell it. It's a great new blog find and I've got it bookmarked and am working my may through the archives. Hilarious.

I'll warn you, there won't be any posting this weekend. Everyone enjoy your long weekend. I'm heading south (Yay!) to St. Louis to see family and to attend a bridal shower. My brother-in-law is getting married this fall and I'm invited to a shower. And I'm actually pretty excited about it. We don't get down to St. Louis as often as we should and it will be a lot of fun to hang out with everyone. I'm blessed in that I enjoy hanging out with my in-laws. It should be a beautiful wedding and I'm excited to add my new sister-in-law. It should be an exciting fall.

That said I've been wracking my brains all morning trying to find a poem that would celebrate their upcoming marriage. I searched all the classical poets and only found cliches. I keep hunting through Brownings and Neruda and cummings with a hope of finding one. Then I realized that instead of old poets, I should go new. This is one of my favorite poets and one of my favorite poems about love.

San Antonio
by Naomi Shihab Nye


Tonight I lingered over your name,
the delicate assembly of vowels
a voice inside my head.
You were sleeping when I arrived.
I stood by your bed
and watched the sheets rise gently.
I knew what slant of light
would make you turn over.
It was then I felt
the highways slide out of my hands.
I remembered the old men
in the west side cafe,
dealing dominoes like magical charms.
It was then I knew,
like a woman looking backward,
I could not leave you,
or find anyone I loved more.