Heal Me (Lady Gaga)

The ubiquitous Lion costume (clockwise:  Sarah and Colin... Eric and me: I was a Grandma (ha!)... Julia and Mari).  I can't even recall where it came from/how it originated, but I'd be willing to bet money that Mari wore it when she was a kid too.

"As gardeners, we know that seasons and cycles can be our allies. It's no coincidence that the Day of the Dead, Samhain, All Hallows' Eve, Halloween, and All Souls Day all create autumn ritual around honoring that which has passed.  Across cultures and generations, the fall of the leaf heralds in a time of letting go, a season of reflection, a process of going back to the root, and a bittersweet holiday for remembering the gifts of our deceased mentors and ancestors.  Perhaps even a season to renew and rekindle our own fires." ~ John Forti, The Heirloom Gardener

The healing continues/begins.  I stated previously that, after today, I'll be posting weekly instead of daily.  It's been equally cathartic and wrenching.  Now it's back to living/life in real-time, in a world without Eric.  It makes sense that my musings will happen every Tuesday, since that is the day E died.

Tonight we'll go to Sarah's ex's house (it's all very civilized) and trick-or-treat as a Pokemon group:  Colin will be Charizard, Sarah Butterfree, Me Oddish, Chico Snorelax, Rob Jigglypuff, Ryan and Meli Pokeman trainers, and 4-month-old Veda Pikachu.  Pics to follow, of course.

SONG:  Heal Me by Lady Gaga

BOOK:  Grief One Day at a Time: 365 Meditations to Help You Heal After Loss by Dr. Alan Wolfelt

POEM(S):  Boundaries by Hue Walker

In Celtic Mythology

This world and the Otherworld

lie alongside each other

nested together

like the layers of driftwood

or of a seashell,

Their boundaries shifting and permeable,

The crossings simple acts for gods and birds

and mythical adventures for humankind.

We guard these entryways with charm and ritual

And shiver at their mention,

whether in fear or in longing.

The worlds are stitched together at the edges,

Dawn, dusk, the first day of winter,

or summer,

or a life,

The edge of the sea, a riverbank,

the horizon,

the mouth of a cave,

or of a grave.

The stitches held by charm and talisman,

and words of power.

And the Borderland of human boundaries...

More familiar,

yet infinitely more mysterious.

The simple boundary of personal space,

The edge of "I" and "other,"

constantly shifting

in size and shape and intensity.

The border of sound and music,

word and poetry,

utility and beauty.

And there is something delightful,

and cherished,

and divine,

In the human heart,

which takes the bone from

a dead bird,

and shapes it into a flute,

and breathes into it,

and creates

a bird's song!

And in this sacred act

knows all there is to know

of crossing boundaries. 

Why You Might Be a Witch by Theodora Goss

Because sometimes you dream of flying

the way you used to.

Because the traffic light always changes for you.

Because when you throw the crusts of your sandwich

to sparrows in the public park, they hop close

and closer, until they perch on your finger

and look at you sideways.

Because as you walk down the street,

the wind plays with the hem of your skirt

so it swings dramatically around your ankles.

Because as you walk, determined and sensible,

your shadow is dancing.

Because a lot of people talk to cats

but for you they answer.

Because the sweetgum trees along the sidewalk

love to show you their leaves, sometimes even tossing

them in front of you, yellow veined red,

brown shot with green and yellow,

like children showing off artwork.

Because when you look up,

the moon is always smiling.

Because sometimes darkness closes around you

and you remind yourself that it’s all right,

you’ve worn this cloak before.

Because in winter you acknowledge

that snow is a blanket as well as a shroud,

and we must all sleep sometimes.

Because in spring you can hear the tinkling bell-sounds

that crocuses make, and the deeper gongs of the tulips.

Because the river waves to you in passing,

and you wave back.

Because even the brownstones of this ancient city

look at you with concern: they want to make sure you’re well.

You belong to them as much as they to you.

Because witches know what they are

and if I asked, do you remember?

You would have to confess that yes,

you do.

Samhain by Annie Finch

In the season leaves should love,

since it gives them leave to move

through the wind, towards the ground

they were watching while they hung,

legend says there is a seam

stitching darkness like a name.

Now when dying grasses veil

earth from the sky in one last pale

wave, as autumn dies to bring

winter back, and then the spring,

we who die ourselves can peel

back another kind of veil

that hangs among us like thick smoke.

Tonight at last I feel it shake.

I feel the nights stretching away

thousands long behind the days

till they reach the darkness where

all of me is ancestor.

I move my hand and feel a touch

move with me, and when I brush

my own mind across another,

I am with my mother's mother.

Sure as footsteps in my waiting

self, I find her, and she brings

arms that carry answers for me,

intimate, a waiting bounty.

"Carry me." She leaves this trail

through a shudder of the veil,

and leaves, like amber where she stays,

a gift for her perpetual gaze.

QUOTE(S):   "Heal yourself with the light of the sun and the rays of the moon. With the sound of the river and the waterfall. With the swaying of the sea and the fluttering of birds. Heal yourself with mint, neem, and eucalyptus. Sweeten with lavender, rosemary, and chamomile.  Hug yourself with the cocoa bean and a hint of cinnamon. Put love in tea instead of sugar and drink it looking at the stars. Heal yourself with the kisses that the wind gives you and the hugs of the rain.  Stand strong with your bare feet on the ground and with everything that comes from it. Be smarter every day by listening to your intuition, looking at the world with your forehead. Jump, dance, sing, so that you live happier.  Heal yourself, with beautiful love, and always remember... you are the medicine." ~ María Sabina, healer and poet.

"We approach the lunar eclipse in Taurus.  Some friendly reminders:  less words more feeling.  less knowing more dreaming.  less thinking more being.  less mind more body.  less tech more nature.  less talking more deep listening."  The Wild Matryoshka

"Now is a time to lay down your tools, the symbols of your productivity, and light a fire to honor not only what has been done throughout the past year, but also all that has preceded you - in this life, and in all the lives lived before. Now is a time to make space, in your heart and in your mind, for the stillness and silence of death." ~ Teo Bishop, Samhain: May The Silence Open Your Heart

“In the midst of darkness, light persists.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Holly Tree (Dar Williams)

In honor of Halloween this Sunday (October 31, as usual!).

"Calling yourself a witch at this moment in history is a BIG deal. Our way of being as women has been persecuted for millennia. The word ‘witch’ has been vilified and slung around as an insult. So it’s no wonder that we, as women, hold back our power, hush our voices, and stay small because we’ve been told that being powerful is unsafe. 

Our work, the work of the witch, is to make it safe to be powerful again. 

Being powerful in the face of thousands of years of patriarchal expectations and conditioning means going against so many of the things you’ve been taught, right?  And yet… the power to shape events, to change things up and make things happen flows naturally through you. Your biology is honed and optimized to wield that power and use it for good. 

It’s your birthright as a woman.

This is witch work.

The thing is, so many of us have grown really good at playing the roles we’ve been offered up as women in the world...

The problem? I don’t know about you, but when I’ve played these roles (and I’ve played many of them in the past), I’ve always found myself feeling a combination of unfulfilled/hungry/displeased/restless. 

And if you feel that restlessness too? That’s the unexpressed part of you. 

Over time, that part of you starts to scream inside. The scream becomes deafening. All-consuming. 

For some it shows up as pain and dis-ease in the body. For others it’ll be depression and/or anxiety. 

You may use food/drink/shopping/drugs to numb it. 

At first, you’ll probably push it down. 

And in pushing down the scream, you’ll go one of two ways. You’ll either become despondent and submissive to life, or you’ll become aggressive and/or hardened – taking on predominantly masculine traits to survive....

I totally disconnected from my female body. I lived my life from the neck up, operating and making decisions decisions from my head.I lived life like a dude because that option seemed much easier than having to deal with being a woman who was never seen or heard...

Pushing down the scream is what we’re dealing with here... it’s a basic reality for so many women in the western world. Recognize it in your body. 

Recognize it in your being, because it’s time to stop pushing it down. It’s time to start letting it all be seen and felt. FULLY. 

This is witch work.

How do we dare to express our fullness? 

We must bring it ALL. 

Rage AND laughter. 

Beauty AND strength. 

Fierceness AND grace. 

Vulnerability AND force. 

Compassion AND passion."

~ Lisa Lister, Witch: Unleashed. Untamed. Unapologetic.

It is indeed Feel Good Friday and, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten/enlighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!

~ Six Kinds of Vegan Witches To Know:  Witches are known for being anti-establishment, resourceful, independent and deeply connected to the natural world, so is it any surprise that vegans have a natural affinity for witchery?

~ A Scaredy-Cat’s Investigation Into Why People Enjoy Fear:  Halloween is here again. That means your co-workers have planted surprise spiders around the office. You’ve been invited to a haunted hayride. Your neighbor’s yard has a full cemetery, rigged with motion detectors and pop-up zombies.

~ Monster Burgers Are Here This Weekend (Saturday, October 30 and Sunday, October 31):  Parlour Vegan's Halloween menu! (make sure to click over to page 2 as well... 👻 )

~ When ‘Boo!’ Is Only the Beginning:  What does it take to scare the candy corn out of someone? Performers at two of New York’s hallowed haunted attractions explain the secrets behind the shocks.

~ The Rumpus Advice Column #98: Monsters and Ghosts:  Dear Sugar, my mother left my father the month I was born. She remarried and had my brother two years later. My stepfather (the only father I knew) committed suicide when I was five years old. My mother became a raging alcoholic following his death. (continued at link)

~ BONUS, although not Halloween-related:  Dar Williams livestream: I'll Meet You Here, Live From the Road, tonight at 9:45 p.m. EDT!  Join Dar Williams, cellist/guitarist/vocalist Ward Williams, and keyboardist/vocalist Bryn Roberts to experience the I’ll Meet You Here tour from the comfort of your home. If you are immunocompromised, or caring for someone who is, you might not be able to come out to a live venue for the shows. We’ve read your emails and social media comments requesting an option to join Dar virtually. This show is for YOU. The show is free, but tips are always welcome and appreciated to help cover the costs of bringing this livestream to your home. Dar very much appreciates your enthusiasm and support!

SONG:  Holly Tree by Dar Williams

BOOK:  Magic Lessons: Book #1 of the Practical Magic Series by Alice Hoffman

POEM:  Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I [Round about the cauldron go] by William Shakespeare

The three witches, casting a spell

Round about the cauldron go;   

In the poison’d entrails throw.   

Toad, that under cold stone    

Days and nights hast thirty one   

Swelter’d venom sleeping got,   

Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.   

     Double, double toil and trouble; 

     Fire burn and cauldron bubble.   

Fillet of a fenny snake,   

In the cauldron boil and bake;   

Eye of newt, and toe of frog,   

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,   

Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,   

Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,   

For a charm of powerful trouble, 

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.   

     Double, double toil and trouble;   

     Fire burn and cauldron bubble.  

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,      

Witches’ mummy, maw and gulf     

Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,     

Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,     

Liver of blaspheming Jew,      

Gall of goat, and slips of yew     

Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,     

Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,     

Finger of birth-strangled babe      

Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,     

Make the gruel thick and slab:     

Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,     

For the ingredients of our cauldron.

     Double, double toil and trouble;   

     Fire burn and cauldron bubble.  

QUOTE(S):  “The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”  ~ W.B. Yeats

Where your fear is, there is your task. ~ C.G. Jung

“I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life - and I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do.” ~ Georgia O’Keeffe 

Superman's Song (Crash Test Dummies)

Happy Halloween!

I'm posting this a few strokes after midnight on the morning of Trick or Treat Day... as, by the time any of you read this, I'll be jetting my way to Atlanta (8 a.m. flight) for the long weekend - while we were on vacation this past August, I got word from a friend that Dar Williams (no explanation necessary if you're a Constant Reader of my musings) would be playing at Eddie's Attic November 1. We found out that it's general admission, but tables for 4 could be reserved - can you say no-brainer? It will be my mom, my sister, her 12-year-old daughter (all of whom live in the Atlanta area) and me - it's another opportunity to make memories, and we most certainly plan to do just that. I've gotten word to Dar (through one of her managers) to request The One Who Knows, dedicated to mom from "her girls" - buy stock in Kleenex now... :-)

The pile on my dining room table grows, as I continue to add items I wish to bring: Halloween Pez dispensers bought weeks ago for Julia, a beach book for mom, a flip-flops towel for Mari, bunny ears for me and devil horns for Mari to wear as we're passing out candy (since Julia won't let us walk around with her), my book to read on the plane, a jacket (as lows will be in the high 30's/low 40's), etc. I'm beyond excited - I'll return with stories, stories to tell...

Can't remember where I read it, but recently there was a discussion about superheroes (or she-ras, in the feminine) - if you could possess just one extra-sensory-power, what would it be? I recall thinking that x-ray vision would be nice (for those Harrison Ford moments)... or flying could come in handy (when the post office is getting ready to close)... or clairvoyance (when I can tell my husband is thinking something other than what he's saying) - however, what I'd really wish to be able to do is stop time... for everyone else... but not myself... temporarily (like in Sleeping Beauty). I swear that if I could have a week to get caught up with/ahead of my life, while everyone else was in suspended animation, I'd never allow myself to fall behind again - anyway, in keeping with today's theme... please share your superhero power fantasies...

P.S. I submitted another entry to Star Maker Machine yesterday - I think I'm addicted (just hit a vein, baby!)... and thanks again to Boyhowdy for being my enabler... :-)

SONG: Superman's Song by Crash Test Dummies

BOOK: The Psychology of Superheroes: An Unauthorized Exploration by Robin Rosenberg (editor)

POEM: Warnings by David Allen Sullivan

A can of self-defense pepper spray says it may
irritate the eyes, while a bathroom heater says it's
not to be used in bathrooms. I collect warnings
the way I used to collect philosophy quotes.

Wittgenstein's There's no such thing
as clear milk rubs shoulders with a box
of rat poison which has been found
to cause cancer in laboratory mice.

Levinas' Language is a battering ram—
a sign that says the very fact of saying,
is as inscrutable as the laser pointer's advice:
Do not look into laser with remaining eye.

Last week I boxed up the solemn row
of philosophy tomes and carted them down
to the used bookstore. The dolly read:
Not to be used to transport humans.

Did lawyers insist that the 13-inch wheel
on the wheelbarrow proclaim it's
not intended for highway use? Or that the
Curling iron is for external use only?

Abram says that realists render material
to give the reader the illusion of the ordinary.
What would he make of Shin pads cannot protect
any part of the body they do not cover?

I load boxes of books onto the counter. Flip
to a yellow-highlighted passage in Aristotle:
Whiteness which lasts for a long time is no whiter
than whiteness which lasts only a day.

A.A.'ers talk about the blinding glare
of the obvious: Objects in the mirror
are actually behind you, Electric cattle prod
only to be used on animals, Warning: Knives are sharp.

What would I have done without: Remove infant
before folding for storage, Do not use hair dryer
while sleeping, Eating pet rocks may lead to broken
teeth, Do not use deodorant intimately?

Goodbye to all those sentences that sought
to puncture the illusory world - like the warning
on the polyester Halloween outfit for my son:
Batman costume will not enable you to fly.

QUOTE: How important it is for us to recognize and celebrate our heroes and she-roes! ~ Maya Angelou

Halloween in Marblehead (Don Oja-Dunaway)

Halloween is not my favorite holiday (that would be Thanksgiving!) by any stretch... but I've always enjoyed it - from the time I was a small child living in suburbia, I loved the ritual of my father walking me around the neighborhood to trick-or-treat, while my mom stayed home to hand out candy. I participated in my share of costume parties in high school and college - my husband and I attended one the first Halloween we were married, with the theme of Come As Your Favorite Dead Person (unique, eh?). There was Marilyn Monroe, Harpo Marx, Thurmond Munson, Jimi Hendrix, etc. - Robert was dressed as Generalissimo Francisco Franco (a running joke on the popular Saturday Night Live back then - "GFF is still dead!") and I was Billie Holiday, complete with the ever-present gardenia behind one ear.

In my 8 years of teaching preschool and four years as a director, it was a matter of course to dress up: Dorothy (duh!), Mother Nature, a gypsy and a beautiful rich woman (since I never wear make-up, this was more elaborate than it sounds) - I do believe my piece de resistance was the year I masqueraded as Tina Turner (obviously not at the preschool) after I found a great blond spiky wig at a neighorhood garage sale (rollin' on the river indeed... :-)

My children always came up with something original and fun - we liked to make our own outfits, supplemented with accessories bought end-of-season (vampire fangs for a dime, a witch hat for $1.00), accumulated over the years and stored in the Halloween box on the top shelf of the garage - I took great joy in escorting my own children around the neighborhood (while my husband stayed behind to pass out candy) and was devastated the year Eric (our youngest) declared he had no need for parental companionship any longer and, following in his older brother's and sister's footsteps, ventured out with friends.

For the last six years, it's been my turn to hand out treats... which I do love, complimenting each little one on their adorability (should be a word if it's not) - our front posts are decorated with ceramic jack-o-lanterns with candles inside, on the door is a fall wreath and from the porch eaves dangles our wooden Halloween wind chimes, which we've had *forever*, making a wonderful clattering sound in the breeze...

So... the Reese's peanut butter cups are bought and I'll leave work a bit early tomorrow to make sure I'm on hand when the first costumed kiddo comes to call - if the weather holds, we'll average 100 or so spooky visitors. Even Rocky looks forward to the evening, perching on the back of the couch so he can watch the comings and goings - Happy Halloween!

P.S. No matter what they say, I still believe candy corn is the most disgusting treat on the planet - yuck!

SONG: Halloween in Marblehead by Don Oja-Dunaway

BOOK: The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury

POEM: Superstitious by Shel Silverstein

If you are superstitious

you'll never step on cracks.

When you see a ladder

you will never walk beneath it.

And if you ever spill some salt

you'll throw some 'cross your back,

And carry' round a rabbit's foot

just in case you need it.

You'll pick up any pin that you find lying on the ground,

And never, never, ever throw your hat upon the bed,

Or open an umbrella when you are in the house.

You'll bite your tongue each time you say

A thing you shouldn't have said.

You'll hold your breath and cross your fingers

Walkin' by a graveyard,

And number thirteen's never gonna do you any good.

Black cats will all look vicious, if you're superstitious,

But I'm not superstitious (knock on wood).

QUOTE(S): "There is nothing that gives more assurance than a mask." ~ Colette

"Clothes make a statement. Costumes tell a story." ~ Mason Cooley

Vampires, Mummies and the Holy Ghost (Jimmy Buffett)

Halloween's origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced sow-in).

The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom, and northern France, celebrated their new year on November 1. This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death. Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On the night of October 31, they celebrated Samhain, when it was believed that the ghosts of the dead returned to earth. In addition to causing trouble and damaging crops, Celts thought that the presence of the otherworldly spirits made it easier for the Druids, or Celtic priests, to make predictions about the future. For a people entirely dependent on the volatile natural world, these prophecies were an important source of comfort and direction during the long, dark winter.

To commemorate the event, Druids built huge sacred bonfires, where the people gathered to burn crops and animals as sacrifices to the Celtic deities.

During the celebration, the Celts wore costumes, typically consisting of animal heads and skins, and attempted to tell each other's fortunes. When the celebration was over, they re-lit their hearth fires, which they had extinguished earlier that evening, from the sacred bonfire to help protect them during the coming winter.

By A.D. 43, Romans had conquered the majority of Celtic territory. In the course of the four hundred years that they ruled the Celtic lands, two festivals of Roman origin were combined with the traditional Celtic celebration of Samhain.

The first was Feralia, a day in late October when the Romans traditionally commemorated the passing of the dead. The second was a day to honor Pomona, the Roman goddess of fruit and trees. The symbol of Pomona is the apple and the incorporation of this celebration into Samhain probably explains the tradition of "bobbing" for apples that is practiced today on Halloween.

By the 800s, the influence of Christianity had spread into Celtic lands. In the seventh century, Pope Boniface IV designated November 1 All Saints' Day, a time to honor saints and martyrs. It is widely believed today that the pope was attempting to replace the Celtic festival of the dead with a related, but church-sanctioned holiday. The celebration was also called All-hallows or All-hallowmas (from Middle English Alholowmesse meaning All Saints' Day) and the night before it, the night of Samhain, began to be called All-hallows Eve and, eventually, Halloween. Even later, in A.D. 1000, the church would make November 2 All Souls' Day, a day to honor the dead. It was celebrated similarly to Samhain, with big bonfires, parades, and dressing up in costumes as saints, angels, and devils. Together, the three celebrations, the eve of All Saints', All Saints', and All Souls', were called Hallowmas.

SONG: Vampires, Mummies and the Holy Ghost by Jimmy Buffett

BOOK: 2oth Century Ghosts by Joe Hill

POEM: Little Orphant Annie by James Whitcomb Riley

Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun,
A-listenin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you Don't Watch Out!

Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers, -
An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout: -
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you Don't Watch Out!

An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin;
An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'for she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you Don't Watch Out!

An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'bugs in dew is all squenched away, -
You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,
An' cherish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you Don't Watch Out!

QUOTE: "A house is never still in darkness to those who listen intently; there is a whispering in distant chambers, an unearthly hand presses the snib of the window, the latch rises. Ghosts were created when the first man awoke in the night." ~ J.M. Barrie

Are You Happy Now? (Richard Shindell)

A few personal musings tomorrow re: Halloween - this now...

From Gimundo.com:

Dark Chocolate Can Help Your Heart

8/20/2007

Chocoholics, your time has come to rejoice: Recent studies show that a daily dose of dark chocolate contains antioxidants that can lower blood pressure, helping to prevent heart disease.

There's no need to gorge on the stuff, though – chocolate is notoriously high in calories and fat and the effects of overindulgence will soon show up around your waist. Less than 30 calories, or approximately one-quarter of an ounce, is the perfect amount to satisfy both your sweet tooth and your body. So now, there's always an excuse for dessert.

The lucky folks at Consumer Reports taste-tested a wide variety of dark chocolate bars to find the best of the bunch. If you're in the market for a heart-healthy indulgence, here are their top five picks.

1. Cacao Reserve by Hershey's Extra Dark

2. Lindt Excellence Extra Fine Dark

3. Chocolove Organic Dark

4. Valrhona Le Noir Amer Dark Bittersweet

5. Scharffen Berger Semisweet Pure Dark

SONG: Are You Happy Now? by Richard Shindell

BOOK: Candyfreak: A Journey through the Chocolate Underbelly of America by Steve Almond

POEM: Dispatch from the Home Front: Halloween 2001 by Tony Brown

like every other year I sit outside with a guitar

while kids roam in small packs

from lit door to lit door

the costumes tonight are not that frightening

angels and fairies and superheroes abound

a few bloodsuckers and ghouls

a sprinkling of skeletons

no terrorists

the adults pretend to be scared

jessie (the giraffe from across the street)

solemnly hands me M & Ms from her stash

when I put the Snickers in her pumpkin

“honey,” I tell her

“it’s not a trade – it‘s a gift”

and she solemnly takes them back

the young girl in the bathrobe and curlers

wearing the sign that says

I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON

says to me

“I want to hear you play your prettyful music”

so

I hand her candy

and I pick up my guitar

to play a song appropriate to the season

(a song by the Grateful Dead)

for this world’s recent ghosts

this world

where unimaginable ashes

sift down on children’s beds

in one part of this world

the very rocks and baseballs

smell of abrasives, jet fuel, burning rubber, corpses

in another part of this world

they are making the mail glow white

long enough to kill what lives on the words

in another part of this world

this guitar would be

illegal

in that country a shrouded woman

has been carefully picking food from a minefield

(food that was airdropped in my name)

she runs and lifts her child from the ground

raising his head high up onto her shoulder

vainly trying to keep the frightening blood from spilling too much

it will take her years to fall asleep again

when she does fall asleep

she will dream of picking up a yellow bomblet

wrapping it in swaddling clothes

suckling it until it blooms hot and bright

but she will not cry

as she holds him in that dream

we all dream that dream these days

we all hold our children closer

while holding back tears

a dream like that

is not a gift

it is a trade

we have all already given

more than enough in return for this one

and you do not let go of your tears

when tears are all you have left

Halloween night

I am pushing aside the veil between the worlds

a mourning person waiting for dawn

pretending to be scared to cover real fear

while I give sweets and prettyful music

to my neighbors’ children

we are all a long way from home

if I knew the way

I would take you home

QUOTE: "Once in a young lifetime one should be allowed to have as much sweetness as one can possibly want and hold." ~ Judith Olney