Slender Stalk - Poems by Mary May

LIFE AT 240

5 MINUTES | 10 POEMS

HAPPY MAY DAY!

This month, I made an online archive where I’ll continue to post the past issues of these Slender Stalk poetry letters. If you ever want to go back and read them, just click here. Also, this month, I wrote poems about my best year, understanding and language, the night sky, cutting carbs, our old alarm clock, taking potable water for granted, a violin failure, spending the pandemic with Keith, and how we picked our side of the bed. I also included a poem inspired by a song called “Toothpaste.” One of the reasons I write poems is to help me notice the overlooked and under-appreciated gifts in my life. I hope you find new wonders in yours too. — Mary May

P.S.
Special thanks to Mollie and Dan for lending Keith and I their woods for daffodil photos. I used one of the shots for the background of the quote at the end of this letter.

THE “BEFORE” PICTURE

In my self-portrait

I am 10 years old

with ginger braids

and freckles

back when I thought we all loved each other
and we would always help and be there

back when sharing and telling the truth mattered
and so did helping and saying our prayers

back when I believed I was a good girl
and everything would be alright in the end

back when there was no speck of pragmatism

only innocence and hope

in my self-portrait

I am 10 years old

no “after” picture needed
this was my peak year

LUDWIG WITTGENSTEIN

Ludwig Wittgenstein said
the pictures in my head
were the precious key
to comprehending me

so I should be a scribe
my thoughts I must describe
if words I can command
then you will understand

if you can do for me
and I can do for you
then both of us will see
there’s one of us not two

we needn’t know our name
because we are the same

“The limits of your language are the limits of your world.” - L. Wittgenstein

PANDEMIC SKY GAZING

As I spin through this vastness
it feels like the universe is vanishing
all the stars are gone now

as I scour the sky
I can’t see a single one

[ wait ]

ah, there you are

I spy one star against the darkness
one hope against the night

one is enough

NO CARB DIET

I steadfastly claim
I don’t eat breakfast
even though I enjoy Toast
every morning

he’s a trampoline in my tummy
a place for the vitamins
to land and bounce around

he’s a beach blanket
for my sun-loving avocado
after we dance to “la bamba”

he’s a memory of grandma
and the way she scraped off
the burnt parts for me

he’s a strawberry jam delivery system
worthy of astronauts

envied by aliens

but on this sad morning
we mourn you dear friend Toast
you’ve been sliced and buttered
for the last time

like champagne
I hold you by the stem
and lift you high
let this be our one final
salutation to the sunrise

everyone please join me
in this toast to Toast

May we each carry a little piece of Toast in our hearts
May we ever cherish the crumbs he’s left behind

To Toast!

MEMENTO MORI ALARM CLOCK

Oh faithful friend

after more than four decades

you still stand watch on our nightstand

we were so excited

to bring you home
our very first digital clock

when we plugged you in
and your big numerals glowed red
we both made that sound reserved for fireworks

we hugged in silence
and waited for your time display
to change
and change
and change

I got goosebumps and started to cry
our life was disappearing
number
by number
by number

even though I grew up knowing
we all die some day
your ever-changing numbers made me realize
we’re already dying each minute

every night you chant
every morning you rant
remember death
don’t waste life

until the end

you’re our herald, our sentry, our friend

पानी MEANS WATER IN HINDI

I let the faucet run
so the water is extra cold

I listen to the sound
as it burbles into my glass

This morning I read:
women and girls around the world
spend 200 million hours per day
finding and collecting water

I take my first sip
and feel my body thank me
as the coolness washes over my tongue

As it soaks my throat
I feel it glide to my core
bestowing its power and life

This morning I read:
many of them are also raped
on their long walks to distant water sources

I’ve drained my “first world” glass

perhaps this is what they mean
when they talk about privilege

yes

this is what they mean

SKIPPED PRACTICES

This music conjures a lilting guilt
like the one I carry with me each morning
as I walk down the hall
avoiding the forlorn gaze
of my neglected violin

what Schubert wrote at sixteen
I still can’t play at seventy

Franz Schubert: String Quartet E flat major, Op. 125

THE PANDEMIC WITH YOU

I feel such lightness
when we are alone
just the two of us
with no needs to tend

no need to walk you like a dog
pet you like a cat
feed you like a guest
amuse you like a child

I don’t need to speak
I don’t need to move
I don’t need to be or do anything

you are a relief and a refuge
you make these fraught and heavy months
weightless

TOOTHPASTE

I don’t know
how to do this
what will happen
does it hurt

we didn’t know
how to do this
we learned
good things happened
it does - it hurts to grow

a moment
of silent

falling
into my heart

it happened
it hurt

I learned

listen to my song

m. robyn: Toothpaste

Liner Note: This song was created by my 17-year old soon to be granddaughter. All the various instruments are played by her, and the background vocals are sung by her. She wrote and produced this track and the accompanying graphics. Her music inspired my poem.

YOUR SIDE OF THE BED

I chose the window side
because I love the sounds of morning
and birdsong from the maple tree

you chose the hearth side
because you love the things you made

the fireplace, the painting of Ada

in our next life
let’s switch sides

I’ll look
you listen

WONDERING?

If you’re wondering what got me started writing poems, you’ll find the story here. Or, if you’re wondering why this collection is called Slender Stalk, click here. If you’re wondering where you can read the past issues of Slender Stalk, click here. If you’re wondering where you can read more of my poems, check out my website: Life at 240.

If you know someone who you think would enjoy these poems, please feel free to forward this email to them. If you’re reading this poetry letter for the first time, you can subscribe here to get ten poems emailed to you at the beginning of each month.