This poem was written about my friend, Brooke.  Her mother passed away in December of 1998, and it was a fairly traumatic experience for me.  I can’t imagine the pain she and her sister felt.  This poem was written almost a year after her death, when Brooke tried to nurse a sick bird back to health – something her mother used to do.  When the bird died, I was struck with an unreasonable amount of grief, and I realized that I was grieving Brooke’s mom’s death all over again.

THE BIRD

She just buried a bird. 
He was only a day in her life, 
Yet she cried.

He was sickly, 
And she cared for him.
She said her mother used to do the same.

Her mother had been like the bird,
And she had cared for her.
She said anyone would have done the same.

She buried her mother again today, in memory of the bird.
Or maybe she buried the bird in memory of her mother. 

Katie Swisher (née Kermeen)
1999

This poem was inspired by an issue of Rolling Stone magazine.  Brittany Spears was on the cover (linked here).  My parents had a subscription, and this particular issue was laying in the bathroom one day.  I had just finished getting ready for the day, and felt really confident until I turned and saw this cover.  It immediately deflated me!  Just a note: I’m not sure who has plastic boobs or not, so please don’t start leaving comments about particulars like that.  Just take it for what it is, okay?  🙂

PLASTIC PORN QUEEN

Look at me!
Bright blue eyes and shiny blonde hair.
My full lips and white teeth join to form a pretty smile. 
I look good!

But then I turn and see 
that girl on the cover of Rolling Stone.
“A Teen Sensation!” they say.
Bitch.
Half-naked at 17, and there are more like her.
24-inch waists, shapely legs and plastic boobs surround me.
My head spins at the 12 year old with porn queen eyes.
The eyes that stare at me in laughing contempt.
“You’ll never be as pretty as me,” she says.
I want to throw up.

I want to be that beautiful.
I want men to be aroused by the sight of me.
I want to be like all the skinny girls I see.

I was beautiful until she looked at me.
Maybe I’ll just cancel my subscription.

Katie Swisher (née Kermeen)
1999

Okay, so this poem was written mere weeks before Matt and I got engaged.  It’s an odd timeline, but stick with me for a minute:  We dated and broke up twice, worked at SIFAT for the summer of 1999, and he came back to start college.  Towards the end of October of 1999, I realized that I might be falling in love with him.  We were engaged on Thanksgiving.  This poem was literally just days before I had my “You’re going to marry Swish” epiphany!  It’s so interesting to look back on this period of my life.  I was so young (19 here), but so consumed at times with wondering who I was going to be with for the rest of my life.  It’s funny (now) to look at this poem, and see that somehow inside of me I knew this person would be so familiar to me.  Who knew that I would be falling in love with a man who had been my best friend for years?  I was clueless!  I’m so thankful God stepped in, and showed me his plan for my marriage.  It has been such a gift!

MAYBE TOMORROW

I can feel him
Every night I am lulled to sleep
By the sound of his voice
Deep
In the darkness
The voice of the one that I love.

I see him.
When the sun is shining and
I am lonely.
I see him.

I see him.
When the moon is bright and
I am lonely.
I see him.

He is familiar.
Not his face – 
His feeling.

His hand on the small of my back
His arm wrapped around my shoulder
His fingers in my hair
His lips to mine

He is familiar.
Not his face – 
His smell.

His cologne
His fabric softener
His breath in that magical moment before we kiss

Every face that passes
I ask, 
“Are you him?”
A question not to be answered today.
Maybe tomorrow.

Katie Swisher (née Kermeen)
October 1999