Editor's Note: We asked Cathy about her poem and its meaning. She gave us an answer worth sharing: "What I was playing off of was the mermaid turning to foam (and I know Anderson 'brightened' it by turning her to angel of light, but I can't believe that's the original folk tale); so the woman speaker "dissolving" emotionally, as too many dependent women do, ending up caught by the man's personality, becoming "nothing"... I spent more than eight years as a therapist, working with abused women, and with others who had a hard time appreciating themselves for who they are. I envisioned such a woman in this poem." Cathy is an Oregon resident.
It wasn’t always this way.
I set my heart to love him
this minor prince at The Alibi, The Joint,
at Harry’s Bar and Grill.
Not my world, but his smile
lured me; I did not know where
it would lead.
I wonder, as I feel the knives
my heart stumbles on: do I imagine
these jabs of pain?
He smiles, strokes my hair
but sails off when I try
to wean him to my sole company.
I force myself to walk among
those who laugh so easy;
endure their arch smiles, their winks
as I creep in, sit mute at the corner table,
my eyes never leaving him.
I am not at home here; the amber
shadows, the bray and gab, the jazz --
I watch as the barkeep taps
the golden ale into another pint for him -
the way he laughs as he tilts the mug
and laps up the foam.
My heart is dissolving; soon
I will be nothing without his lips.
I set my heart to love him
this minor prince at The Alibi, The Joint,
at Harry’s Bar and Grill.
Not my world, but his smile
lured me; I did not know where
it would lead.
I wonder, as I feel the knives
my heart stumbles on: do I imagine
these jabs of pain?
He smiles, strokes my hair
but sails off when I try
to wean him to my sole company.
I force myself to walk among
those who laugh so easy;
endure their arch smiles, their winks
as I creep in, sit mute at the corner table,
my eyes never leaving him.
I am not at home here; the amber
shadows, the bray and gab, the jazz --
I watch as the barkeep taps
the golden ale into another pint for him -
the way he laughs as he tilts the mug
and laps up the foam.
My heart is dissolving; soon
I will be nothing without his lips.
2 comments:
Wow, this was gorgeous. So, so, so wonderfully done. Thank you for sharing this very meaningful work.
Sort of ot, but Cathy, I wonder, is "The Alibi" you mention a tiki bar in Portland? The one on Interstate? Love that place, but could totally see the scenario described in the poem playing out there. -Ariel aka Violetta
Actually, that WAS the bar I was thinking of! I never was inside, but the outside seemed to have just the right ambience - good to know I was right! :-)
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