I already know Indy will be trapped
in an ancient room full of snakes
and survive, but I watch again, anyway,
though I wince, because my husband
is on my left and my daughter is on my right
and the cat curls under the blanket
on my lap, and though I hate
how my heartrate skyrockets
when Indy is dragged on a rope
behind a military jeep, I would
watch it all again another thousand times
for just that moment when
my girl snuggles deeper into my side
and rests her head on my shoulder,
yes I would watch any night
the melting flesh when the ark is opened
just to hear beneath the soaring theme
the quiet soundtrack of her breath.
Posts Tagged ‘movie’
Why I Watch Raiders of the Lost Ark Again (and Again
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged daughter, family, intimacy, movie on April 21, 2023| 2 Comments »
Marvel
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged election, Marvel, movie, peace, villain on November 8, 2022| 6 Comments »
On election night, Thanos grabs some popcorn.
Adds extra butter. Gets cozy in his sweatpants
and sits on his throne of stone. Feels no urge to snap.
He knows he need not do anything but watch
as humanity destroys itself with righteousness, with blame.
He chuckles as he follows the polls, the news.
How the humans cry. They shout. They attack.
What’s a villain to do but sit back and enjoy?
He sips Jack and Coke, keeps an eye on the cosmos.
If there is a song of peace rising in the hearts of some,
he doesn’t hear it beneath the scowling, the jeers.
But I hear peace swelling as if it is necessary, inevitable.
In fact, I am singing it, the way a star sings
hidden inside an apple. And I am not alone.
On Halloween
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Audrey Hepburn, halloween, mask, movie, self on November 1, 2022| 4 Comments »
I wake up as myself, but by 8:15 a.m.,
I am wearing a long black dress and long black gloves,
strings of pearls and my long brown hair piled high.
Once again, I am Holly Golightly, spontaneous and flirty,
eccentric and ambitious. How easily I slip into her world.
How quickly I start calling everyone darling.
How instantly I feel doe-eyed and feminine.
Though I am graying. Though I am no longer reed-like
or innocent. Though in real life I only wear yoga pants
and no one would call me glamorous.
How is it that forty years after I first met her
in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, I still fall in love with her?
Confident, yet fragile. Elegant, yet humble.
I balance my long black cigarette holder in my hand
and take a long drag of the fake cigarette—
but it’s life I’m pulling deep into my lungs
getting buzzed on blue sky and white snow.
By noon, I have no idea who I am.
By midnight, though I am in yoga pants again,
the credits have yet to roll.
Love Poem for My Daughter
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cinema, daughter, love, mother, movie on March 12, 2022| 20 Comments »
You are the movie
I hope never
reaches the credits,
the only reality show
I want to watch.
You are the star
in this cinema—
and the script writer,
the choreographer,
the costume designer.
Every day, I love watching
the unfolding plot of you,
marvel at your character arc.
You, the hero I cheer for
when life does its worst.
You, the stunt girl
for whom I hold my breath.
You, the creator of your own sound track
in which you play jazz for dinner,
in which we sing along
in the car to Arctic Monkeys
and Taylor Swift and Wham!
I love your laugh track
when you hang out in your room
reading or watching
someone else’s movie.
You may not hear me clapping,
but I’m in a constant state
of standing ovation
as you meet whatever
your role brings you,
my heart pounding as you move
with such integrity
into the next frame.
Old Story
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged daughter, good vs evil, mother, movie, poem, poetry on July 7, 2018| 2 Comments »
Sitting on the couch
watching a Disney musical
and singing along
with my daughter,
we cackle like the evil queen
and purr with the catty girls,
practicing in cruel registers
we seldom use,
and I think how it is
we are drawn to imitate
that which repulses us,
how strange the words taste
in my mouth, like candy
from a foreign land,
and how our eyes flicker
with playful light
as we scowl and curse
and deride. And my daughter
snuggles in closer to me,
and I kiss her head,
and we watch till the end,
though we’ve seen it
at least five times before
and know exactly what will happen.
There is comfort, perhaps,
in reminding ourselves
how the good prevails.
We are like children who have been
lost in a dark wood while playing games,
then see a wall of sunlight
in the distance
and make a run for it.
Just Before the Credits Roll
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged freedom, lawnmower, movie, poem, poetry on May 5, 2018| Leave a Comment »
In the movie,
that’s not being made,
the one I star in,
my character, who looks
exactly like me,
is mowing the lawn,
exactly like me,
only when I go
to put the lawnmower
away by the barn,
she just keeps walking,
pushing that red Toro
down the side of the highway,
oblivious to the drivers
who stare and honk.
And there’s no orchestra
swelling, just a single
bassoon with a dark,
warm reedy timbre.
There she goes,
in her flip flops
and sun hat,
obviously not ready
for what’s about to happen
and not caring a whit,
leaving in her wake
a trail of freshly cut weeds,
and the scent of spring grass,
her figure getting
smaller and smaller
on the horizon.
One While Watching The Princess Bride Again
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged daughter, familiarity, mother, movie, poem, poetry, the princess bride on March 19, 2018| 1 Comment »
my daughter and I
recite all our favorite lines—
snapdragons no less beautiful
for blooming in the same place
every year