Columbus and the Valley

It Takes Skill to Write Tight

Tuesday night I delivered on a promise to show up at the Columbus Library and read a favorite poem. In general, I eschew poetry. Unless it is more free form and prose-like, then it is okay. So, I read the lyrics of a song that I’ve featured in this blog, “A Little Bit of  Everything” by Dawes. Click on the link and give it a listen, if you haven’t heard it. Thomas Forsberg put me on that song and I’ll always appreciate his recommendation. I heard some great poems on Tuesday and left there with a better appreciation of a form of writing that I have been slow to embrace. Even better than the poems for me, were the brief remarks from the readers about why they chose the poem they read.

As the evening wrapped up, Jimmy Elder, my friend and pastor of Columbus’ First Baptist Church, walked up to me and handed me a small book. He introduced the author, Anya Krugovoy Silver, as an associate professor of English at Mercer University. Jimmy said that he wanted me to read the words of someone who, like me, has chosen to write their way through cancer. It is a book of poems, and I mentally prepared myself on the way out to my truck to try to find a way to like her work, my proclivities to not like poetry bubbling up again.

I have received a volume of comments over these past 7 years, during my season of cancer. People have told me that my writings have made them laugh and made them cry. They’ve also said that I have scattered enough bread crumbs (over 300,000 words to date) to give someone with a similar diagnosis hope for better things ahead. I’m happy about that.

What I’m beginning to appreciate about poetry, at least good poetry, is how a gifted writer can say so much in so few words. It takes great skill to “write tight.”

Back to Ms. Silver: She’s a breast cancer survivor and her book is named, “The Ninety-Third Name of God.” I’ve added a link for you to purchase the book. I’ll forever be grateful to Jimmy Elder for sharing this book and I hope that I’ll get to have a cup of coffee, or a brown bourbon drink with the author one day.

Here’s why I’m enthralled:

On page 18, she features a poem called, “Blessing for My Left Breast.”

Blessing for My Left Breast

Your skin slit round with a scalpel:
be brave.
Rise to the aluminum tray, the biopsy needle.
Go, nipple; go, milk  ducts; go, veins.
Take with you my lymph nodes,
canaries of illness, blood cells’ puff balls.

Blessed be my chest wall for surrendering.

Now you will never shrink and wrinkle with age,
clove-studded orange, bittersweet.

Taken in your beauty, let the last hands
that hold you
be gentle.
•••

Goodness gracious! These few words are dripping with apprehension and yet beautiful beyond belief.
I am a fan of my new sister — and her poetry.

 

I Want a Little Bit of Everything

I finally figured out to easily embed media files into my blog posts. I like the way this is looking, as you can either skip the file altogether, listen to it while you read the post or come back to it later. This song is by a new folk rock/indie rock band named Dawes. The song is called “A Little Bit of Everything.” I really like it. Sort of Jackson Browne. Sort of Wallflowers. At least those great performers come to mind when I hear this new music. If you want to listen now, you know what to do.

When you are first diagnosed with cancer, shock is the first order of business. When they start sticking you with needles and you begin to see the bills roll, the “awe” starts to kick in. As you becomes a seasoned warrior, you start to get angry about just how much time, money, opportunity, energy and actual tissue you have lost to this damn disease. In my last post, I reported that an adrenal ablation treatment, although hugely successful, shit-canned another of my organs. Killed it. Rendered it useless. Cooked it with microwaves. Between the adrenal gland, an entire disc in my spine, my left kidney, 12 lymph nodes and my thyroid, I’m running with a few less organs than the good Lord saw fit to give me at birth.

So here I am, almost exactly 5 and a half years into life with renal cell carcinoma, when the Internet said I’d have only a five percent chance to be here, I find myself in a situation where I want just a little bit more of everything, and this song resonates with me.

Here are the lyrics to the song:

“A Little Bit Of Everything”

With his back against the San Francisco traffic
On the bridges side that faces towards the jail
Setting out to join a demographic
He hoists his first leg up over the railAnd a phone call is made, police cars show up quickly
The sergeant slams his passenger door
He says, “Hey son why don’t you talk through this with me?
Just tell me what you’re doing it for””Oh, it’s a little bit of everything
It’s the mountains, it’s the fog
It’s the news at six o’clock
It’s the death of my first dog””It’s the angels up above me
It’s the song that they don’t sing
It’s a little bit of everything”

An older man stands in a buffet line
He is smiling and holding out his plate
And the further he looks back into his timeline
That hard road always had led him to today

And making up for when his bright future had left him
Making up for the fact that his only son is gone
And letting everything out once, his server asks him
“Have you figured out yet, what it is you want?”

I want a little bit of everything
The biscuits and the beans
Whatever helps me to forget about
The things that brought me to my knees

So pile on those mashed potatoes
And an extra chicken wing
I’m having a little bit of everything

Somewhere a pretty girl is writing invitations
To a wedding she has scheduled for the fall
Her man says, “Baby, can I make an observation?
You don’t seem to be having any fun at all”

She said, “You just worry about
Your groomsmen and your shirt-size
And rest assured that this is making me feel good”
I think that love is so much easier than you realize
If you can give yourself to someone, then you should

‘Cause it’s a little bit of everything
The way you choke, the way you ache
It is waking up before you
So I can watch you as you wake

So in the day in late September
It’s not some stupid little ring
I’m giving a little bit of everything

Oh, it’s a little bit of everything
It’s the matador and the bull
It’s the suggested daily dosage
It is the red moon when it’s full

All these psychics and these doctors
They’re all right and they’re all wrong
It’s like trying to make out every word
When they should simply hum along

It’s not some message written in the dark
Or some truth that no one’s seen
It’s a little bit of everything

****************************************

As we prepare for our eldest son’s wedding a little later this month. I realized that Michael is giving Janice “A Little Bit of Everything.” Marriage is way more than the ring.

The joining of their two lives has made me look back on my life and my vows to Jill. Living with cancer has made me want so much more — time, experience, travel, dinners, breakfasts, quick glances when someone in the room says something we both find funny or poignant, grandchildren, walks on the beach, pillow talk, time with our children, time with our parents, time with our friends, time with our pets, the smell of our pine forest, garden dirt, cold drinks in July, the occasional snow ball fight, a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g that gives me more face time with the people I love. That is what I want. And, we’re fighting like crazy to make it happen.