Feel Everything A Chapbook by Shannon Walter

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Acknowledgements Thank you to all of the great minds and quotations that helped inspire the direction of my chapbook. And a special shout out to my English 308 class who has helped me along this poetic journey! Cover Photo taken by Jessica Rabbit via Flickr, edited to black and white.

Link: http://goo.gl/cGM7cQ

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Table of Contents Delicious Ambiguity --------------------------------- 4

Loss Staple It Together ---------------------------------- 6 Robbed ---------------------------------------------- 7 The Big Room ---------------------------------------- 8 Pain Vanished ------------------------------------------- 10 Torment -------------------------------------------- 11 Soft Touch ----------------------------------------- 12 Anger Damn you, Red Shell -------------------------------- 14 Hit and Run ---------------------------------------- 15 Why did you sell it? ------------------------------- 16 Fear Raging Bull ---------------------------------------- 18 Claustrophobic Oblivion ---------------------------- 19 Nostalgic Nightmares ------------------------------- 20 Change A Fine Line ---------------------------------------- 22 One Breath ----------------------------------------- 23 Mourning Metamorphosis ----------------------------- 24 Love Coming Home ---------------------------------------- 26 Margaret and Dave ---------------------------------- 27 Slow Dance ----------------------------------------- 28

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“Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.” - Sylvia Plath This is a collection of poems addressing those aspects of life that demand to be felt.

Loss Pain Anger Fear Change Love

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Delicious Ambiguity

I wanted a perfect ending— Although who can say what perfect is?

Perfect is a relative term used by the delusional. I have realized that perfection is hidden

inside the small imperfections of life.

Now I’ve learned the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme Some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end—

You’ll learn that those stories and poems are the most real. Life doesn’t rhyme, you will never make sense of it.

It doesn’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. Birth is a blur, and you don’t know what the middle is

until you get to the end, and you see that magnificent middle in one flash.

Life is about not knowing, having to change,

taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next—

To make the best of life, is to enjoy the little things, to take things as they come, to take advantage of opportunities.

To travel, to laugh, to smile, to love. You never know what day will be your last, so live while you can

That is both the pain and beauty of life.

Delicious Ambiguity.

Poem inspired by: “I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that

some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to

change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.”

- Gilda Radner

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LOSS “Everything, eventually goes away.” - Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love.

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Staple It Together Losing a husband A father A grandfather A great-grandfather A Notre Dame fan A good man Is never easy Burying him With playing cards His veteran flag His Notre Dame sweatshirt His wonderful, loving heart Is a nightmare Holding my father As he sobs onto my shoulder Never to play poker Or make fun of Or get angry with his father again Is unbearable As we celebrate The ninety-two years He blessed this Earth with his presence And care And charm We begin to slowly staple the pieces that he left behind

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Robbed I should have known how we were going to end before we even really began. To be fair, I was unaware of all of the lies, all of the betrayal, all of the other women. You drew me in with your charming smile, your intense likability, the twinkle in your eye. Every glance exchanged led me to believe I was the only one for you. Little did I know this was a game to you. And in your mind, the more players— the better. As I fell deeply, passionately in love with you, you convinced me just how worthless I really was to everyone, but you. And when I realized this was a lie, after you were long gone, I realized that you had snatched up a portion of my shattered heart. Never to be retrieved.

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The Big Room Do you remember the day that your big sister went off to college. The sister with whom you have always fought, with whom you got into heaps of trouble, with whom you thought you’d never get along. And now you will never see her every day again, for the rest of your life. I know that starting high school tomorrow seems like a bigger deal than your annoying older sister leaving. Now you get the big room, now your parents will pay more attention to you, than to your perfect, older sister. But now you have no one who will always have your back. No one to laugh with when everyone else is grumpy. No one to sit next to when we go out to dinner, or to always have a reliable friend at crazy family functions. She is the best friend that you will ever have, that you will ever need, that you will ever want. And this day is significant. Take advantage of the time that you have with her, for soon it will be very far and few between. You will stop caring about the big room, you’d gladly share it with your sister now. You will stop wanting attention from your parents, you’ll figure out that you get into much more trouble that way. Your big sister is, and will always be, your greatest role model whether you will admit it to yourself at age fourteen or not. Be thankful for the days that she is right down the hall, and not thousands of miles away, on the other side of the world.

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PAIN

“Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden; it is easier to say, “My tooth is aching” than to say, “My heart is broken.” - C.S. Lewis

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Vanished Every breath taken in this holy place sends a sharp devilish fiery pain through my chest Like getting hit in the chest with a baseball that has been lit on fire How can they be gone Together for over 65 years and while they are together up there We are left behind to arrange funerals to clean out the house to figure out how to go on without the two most important people in our lives In one short summer everything I once knew has faded into nothingness

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Torment Waking up to a cold rush of air from an open window, a consequence of the sleepy forgetfulness of night. Needing to correct my mistake, I rise from my pillow quickly and quietly, I seal my room from the cold bite. Agony ensues as the South African bongo on my windowsill plunges onto my big toe— I let out a silent scream. Dropping a bongo on my toe sent shivers up my spine that could kill. A shock runs through me like realizing you are late after awakening from a deep sleep. I curl over in torment, lying on my bed, cursing at the instrument of torture. I watch the blood rush from my face to form a swirl of blue and red on my toe. I try to catch my breath, inhaling with the urgency of a woman in labor. Taking deep breaths, trying to think of anything but the pain residing below.

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Soft Touch He beats me because he loves me. His soft hands bruising my skin with every hit. To the gut. To the back. To the face. Leaving beautiful swirls of purple, red and black— concealing my stomach, lining the length of my spine, encircling my eyelid. The way my body feels with every hit, with every swift kick to the abdomen, with every push down the stairs. His hands are smooth against my skin. Prickling running across my body, blood coursing through my veins and rushing up to the surface; marks of his love for me— plastered all over my body. He says that he beats me because he loves me, and I give in to his love.

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ANGER “Anger is never without reason, but seldom with a good one.” – Benjamin Franklin “When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear.” – Mark Twain

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Damn You, Red Shell. Gearing up with that crazy mushroom. Strategically choosing the fastest motorcycle. Rainbow Road, here I come. Trying my best to stay on track. Competitors zooming past, throwing bananas left and right. First place. Fifth place. Tenth place. Damn you, red shell.

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Hit and Run You totaled my life as a head on collision totals a Prius I will never place my trust in anyone again not completely, anyways My heart never to be brand new again— my body never entirely repaired— my thoughts never idle And although you will never be palpably present in my life again the idea of you remains in the scrap piles of my scattered mind With every hurtful word every act of betrayal every scratch, dent, and impact of fist to face.

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Why did you sell it? The home my grandparents my father his brothers my mother my aunts my cousins my cousin’s children and myself inhabited for the last sixty five years. Sixty five years filled with Easter piñatas bunny races visits from Santa Christmas carols out of tune ‘Happy Birthdays’ poker nights backyard games of Horse and so many other memories lost in a slew of magical memoirs made on 1117 S. 21st Street. How could you dare to get rid of the only home you’ve ever known? No one else can live in this home like we can. No one has the right to reside in the place where four generations of family were raised, where there are magical three person couches that fit over ten people. Where we were taught to love, laugh, forgive, to never regret, and always follow your dreams. How can you hand that home over to strangers who couldn’t possibly understand what this home means?

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FEAR “Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free.” – Jim Morrison

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Raging Bull Strapped in tight holding on for dear life and we haven’t even taken off yet Going slowly, up the first hill Sitting vertically, still going up, potential death At the top, imminent death Going down, at the speed of light No noise comes from my mouth I curl into a ball and hold my breath First loop takes me by surprise shakes my noggin to the core makes me dizzy, blackout Back at the station white as a ghost Never again, I tell my friend

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Claustrophobic Oblivion Someone once said, To die would be an awfully big adventure. But I do not concur. After watching my loved ones Being stuffed into the most morbid of containers. Never to inhale another breath of fresh air. Unable to witness another sunrise or set. Incapable of feeling soft grass beneath their feet, ever again. In my eyes, that is no adventure. I do not fear death as much as the inability to ever truly live again.

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Nostalgic Nightmares I wake up in a cold sweat from a dream, forcing me to relive the horrors you have put me through. I fear losing you but what I fear even more is being trapped in a forever with you. My love for you is not something I understand. It is something that I hate myself for more and more each day. With every hurtful word, every contusion left behind, and every broken promise, my nightmares become my realities. You are my everything and that is what I fear the most.

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CHANGE “Just when I think I have learned the way to live, life changes.” – Hugh Prather “They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them for yourself.” - Andy Warhol

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A Fine Line In every relationship there is a fine line between love and hate One minute you are holding hands kissing foreheads and exchanging lusty glances And the next minute you are holding grudges kissing with your fists and exchanging bitter words The conversion can happen over years or months or everything could transform in just seconds People will change over time and you can only hope it will be in the same direction as you

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One Breath affection appreciation devotion emotion fondness friendship infatuation lust passion respect tenderness yearning allegiance amorousness attachment cherishing crush delight devotedness enchantment enjoyment fidelity flame hankering involvement like love Another animosity antagonism horror hostility loathing pain resentment revenge venom abomination antipathy aversion bother detestation disgust frost grievance irritant malevolence nuisance objection repugnance repulsion revulsion spite trouble hatred

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Mourning Metamorphosis One This is a dream. In no way possible could he have died. He just called yesterday asking how school was. Two How could you leave. Fury engulfing my soul like a house fire. You did not give me a chance to say goodbye. Three I should have called more. And by that I mean I should have called period. My grandfather wanted nothing but to know what I was up to and I couldn’t even manage that. Four I feel nothing. Sadness is crushing my chest and the silence in this church is deafening, and yet here I stand, feeling nothing. Five I will keep going. My grandfather was a strong man. And I will be strong too. I will continue on in my life, and hope and pray that he knew just how much I loved him.

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LOVE “Unless you love someone, nothing else makes sense.” “Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star…” -e.e. cummings

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Coming Home Seeing him at that coffee shop, for the first time, was like seeing the sign for Disney World after that long eighteen hour drive— satisfying and filled with excitement. Breaking down each other’s walls, slowly but surely, with each sleepless night filled with endless conversation, infinite smiles, and limitless laughter. Bonding over bonfires, warm lighting, cheap beer, and good company. Welcoming me into his life with open arms and a wide smile. I see love in the way he looks at me— from across the room, when we wake up in the morning, when I am silently reading a book. I feel love in every embrace, every remembered detail about my life, every secret shared about his own. He reminds me of coming home after being away for a long time, of finally understanding long division after months of second grade frustration, of cigarettes— so easily addicted, so quickly drawn in. With every passing moment, I am reminded that home is not only a place, but a person as well.

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Margaret and Dave Exchanging glances. Exchanging names. Exchanging smiles. First touches. First dates. First kisses. Heavy breathing. Heavy thoughts. Heavy conversation. Big hearts. Big hugs. Big promises. Together for the day. Together for the night. Together forever. Growing up. Growing children. Growing old. Even in heaven… Still together. Still happy as ever. Still in love.

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Slow Dance Heads spinning, hearts grinning, and tonight is only the beginning. Sinatra crooning in the background. He is twirling me in circles to the romantic sounds. Gazing deeply into his eyes, all I can feel is the butterflies soaring through my stomach at lightning speed. In this moment, he is the only thing I’ll ever need. When he glances at me I feel alive, my pulse kicks into overdrive. I feel heat rushing to my face as he reaches to tenderly brush a strand of hair out of my eye. Every touch, move, breath filled with electricity between us. Although the song has ceased to play we continue to sway in our own little bubble of enchantment.

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“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails… And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” - 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8, 13