Author’s Note of Intention: “I Believe Words Are Power.”
I like a good quote -
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
I John 1:1 (NIV)
Or how’s about two for good measure:
“Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.”
- Albus Dumbledore, played by Michael Gambon (2011)
Writing Blue was a blessing. I didn’t name the collection until the day I decided to finally assemble it on 12/20/2020, but I always knew the cover would feature my Karner blue butterfly globe. It is one of my trophies, a gift given to me by a counselor who helped me take my power back from PTSD over the course of 2019. Without having done the work overcoming that battle, I’m not sure how I would have fared in what I think we can all agree has just been a bizarre year.
I wrote nearly fifty poems in the twelve months of 2020, which is more writing than I’ve been able to pull off in years. But not nearly all of them made the collection. Some are just plain bad reading, while others are only for me or a few close others. The twenty included in Blue aren’t just the poems I thought were the best, but the poems that surprised me, or tied me to the dock of peace and strength when the waves of sorrow and worry tried to sink me. I thought a lot about Indiana because for the first time in my life I don’t live there, and for those who don’t know, I love my home state. Indeed, I am of Indiana.
So first, Blue is for all you hoosiers at home — and I mean the whole dang state, not just IU (Boilerup!), but of course I include y’all from the tip-top of the Dunes to the unglaciated central-southern lands of mystical Pawnee. I was born in the capitol city of the Crossroads of America (true story!). I wouldn’t be here without all the fokes I love at home.
Starting grad school in Missouri during the first wave of a global pandemic was cray. Then halfway through the semester, I survived an encounter with a deranged naked stranger (definitely the craziest thing to happen in 2020, in my opinion), and PTSD burrowed in me for a minute. But thanks to therapy (and my Karner blue), I knew what to do, and I’m more than okay today! And finally in August, AJ and I followed our wits to Iowa, and the best part is: I love it here too. It’s no Indiana, but I really think our fokes and these folx would get along.
None of these poems would have ever been written without my grandmother’s spirit to guide me. She taught me to hush and hear her nearness — she meets me soundly as a butterfly landed on my sleeve. I like to wear my “Nanny rings” when I write (all sterling silver, one she bought me on every Black Friday since 2006), and someday I’ll write a story that can possibly encompass the wisdom, love, and courage of Good Ann Wood’s last words for me:
“Kailey, honey, how’s your finger?”
- Ann Wood (4/30/2019)
Blue was named for the Karner blue butterfly (as alluded previous this), an endangered beauty you can still see in places like the Indiana Dunes, where I went to most of elementary school and wound up working in tourism all of 2018–19. The top of Devil’s Slide at the state park and Cowles Bog in the national park make my top ten list of favorite places in Indiana. I don’t know who I’d have been were it not for the Dunes; they shaped so much of me, and I will write with my joy and hope for their preservation.
By writing these poems, I won many battles I might have otherwise lost in 2020. I fought against words that turned my stomach due to new current-contexts on the news, blue and red ties and suits and what-have-you. I believe that a word contains all the power I give to it. God as my witness, I gave Jesus more power this year than any year I’ve lived before, and this — Blue — is just a blip of the plan he’s got for me.
May sound strange, but without this book, I didn’t know if there’d be a next… Now I know.
Undoubtedly, Blue (and all the rest of it!) wouldn’t be here without the unshakable support of my AJ — and it wouldn’t be nearly as cool without my nifty Super Sterling Smith-Corona typewriter. Without you babe, none of it. I’m here for it, and I love you.
Finally, thank YOU, and happy reading!
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@bykaileyann
HEDERAREADS.COM
Order Blue: Twenty Poems From 2020 @bykaileyann in Paperback:
https://www.amazon.com/Blue-Twenty-Kailey-Ann-Capuano/dp/B08RRFXQXL/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=blue%3A+twenty+poems+from+2020+kailey+ann&qid=1619901904&sr=8-1
The Eulogy for Good Ann Wood
Written @bykaileyann | Read during the funeral of Lynette Ann Wood
* * * * *
Link to Obituary: https://www.flinnmaguire.net/obituary/lynette-wood
“Lynette Ann Sanders Wood, 82, of Franklin passed away peacefully on Wednesday, May 1, 2019, surrounded by family. She was born in White River Township, Johnson Co., Indiana on November 24, 1936, to Charles William Sanders and Mildred V. (Batton) Sanders.
She graduated from Franklin Community High School in 1955. She attended Franklin College and was a member of Delta Delta Delta sorority.
She served 24 years as Needham Township Deputy Trustee and assessor and 40 years in manufacturing, governmental and general accounting. She retired from Fleetwood Accounting in 2002. She belonged to the First Presbyterian Church in Franklin, Indiana, and was a part of the Presbyterian Women. She was a past President of Kappa, Kappa, Kappa, and a Tri Delta Alumnae, a member of the National Federation of Republican Women, a 50 year member of the Order of Eastern Star #439, and the Franklin Elks BPOE #1818. She enjoyed playing bridge, growing tomatoes, and spending time with her family. She will be remembered for her love of sports, her wit, her strong heart, and the traditions and values she instilled in her family.
She is survived by her children, Deborah(Lynn), Pamela (Brent), Leslie, and Cheryl (Kevin); her 10 grandchildren: Adam (Dana), Sarah (Casey), Marcus (Brandi), Michael (Lauren), Bailey (Eric), Benjamin, Kailey (AJ), Maggie (Brandon), Riley, and Avery; and 15 great grandchildren: Austin, Kaitlyn, Elizabeth, Levi, Madelynn, Ethan, Jett, Kinsley, Baylor, Cooper, Jacob, Evan, Emerson, Hayden, and William.
She was preceded in death by her parents and brother, Charles Sanders.
Rev. Peter Jessen will conduct a Celebration of Ann’s life on Sunday, May 5, 2019 at 4:00 p.m. at the First Presbyterian Church, 100 E. Madison Street in Franklin. Friends and family may call from 2:00 p.m. until the time of service at the church.
In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions were made to the First Presbyterian Church, 100 E. Madison Street in Franklin, Indiana, USA.
Online tributes and other expressions of kindness are appreciated ~ ”
* * * * *
Read during a Celebration of Ann’s life on Sunday, May 5, 2019 near 4:00 p.m. at the First Presbyterian Church, 100 E. Madison Street in Franklin.
KAILEY
--> Nanny isn’t what I’d describe as a “typical” grandma, but she’s the only grandma I ever had, and because of that, she made sure I never doubted how much she loved me. She took me to the old Franklin Fashion Bug for my birthday every year to buy me a “sexy” pair of jeans—when I was 12, I was particularly uncomfortable with that compliment, but to this day, I can’t buy a pair of jeans without hearing her voice in my head. In 8th grade, I rode the bus to her house every day after school, and we would just sit and talk at the kitchen table, or on the couch with golf on in the background, while she shared her wealth womanly wisdom with me. Nanny, or “Nanno” as Maggie and I always called her, was not one for coddling, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t comforting. When I cried about my middle school boyfriend kissing another girl, she told me it was better to learn early that men could be dirtbags, but that I was beautiful and strong, and I would find someone better. When I had fights with friends or family members, she would listen all the way through and then tell me, “Now you know you’re being stubborn honey. You have the power to make it better,” which is ALWAYS what I needed to hear. When I introduced her to my husband, AJ, for the first time, with ABSOLUTELY no context, she told him all about a certain vulgarly named shot she is known for throwing back at the Willard every year, and after he walked away wide-eyed and laughing, she grabbed my wrist and said, “Now he’s the one, isn’t he honey?” Seeing her do her little Nanny jig with AJ at our wedding will always be one of my favorite memories. There are so many stories I could share, but I’ll just wrap it up by saying this: My atypical grandma was always, ALWAYS, putting others first. On her last day, when she could barely speak, she sat up abruptly to ask me clearly, “Kailey honey, how’s your finger?” I had gone to the ER for stitches a few days ago, and even in her final few hours, she used her energy to make sure that I was okay. That’s just who she was.Thank you for showing me what a strong, independent, courageous, woman looks like.
Oh, Nanno, I miss you so much already. I will carry your name with pride for the rest of my life. I love you so much.
* * * * *
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@bykaileyann
HEDERAREADS.COM
1. HOW DO I FIGHT?
I write;
it's the only way I know that works
Good words
stamped into a page
or penned on any piece of paper
I can reach
I'm reaching
out, or -
my wits' end
they feel the same
Maybe the end of my wits is where
wisdom stays
Waiting
for me to say It's Finished
I can't say I'm done today
I'm not
A thought reaches
for my mind that can't catch it
my heart wants what it wants so -
I'll grasp with the strings
Blessing or curse?
I'll laugh through my nose
at the latter
for the year named Hindsight
liked to pick at all those virtues
I thought I was good at performing -
Patience ebbs, but I
Perservere
Revere all the wrong stuff till I
get checked, get flipped
right-side up.
Less is more,
So I keep writing.
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3. FOUND IN THE FEMALE AMERICAN
Recovered, my mind could hope;
great thinking often grows by
inculcating* truths.
We become convinced that I
force expression upon my will.
The time I imagine as words:
This was me.
* * * * *
/ n o t a r e
Link to source, The Female American; Or, the Adventures of Unca Eliza Winkfield
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/444812.The_Female_American_Or_the_Adventures_of_Unca_Eliza_Winkfield
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@bykaileyann
4. WE ARE BRANCHES
Time, times and half a time
Year, two years and half a year
12 months, 24 months and six months
360 days, 720 days and 180 days
A ‘month’ was lunar
There are always 30 days in a month
Using the definition which applies
To the text as written then
Context untaught
When knowledge was bought
Wisdom then
Some trivial pursuit
When cutt off from the root.
The stump remains.
We can remember the taste of the fruit
Under the shade of our favorite apple tree
And if you’re like me
Remember how high you climbed
How far you could see
See some of those trees in your mind
The ones that fell in the road
Or downed a power line
In a good storm
Don’t all things die
At least, all things that live?
What good would it do
to leave a big branch in the road?
Do you need to see the tree to remember
The taste of golden apples?
The roots remain, unseen.
Regard the stump.
* * * * *
/ n o t a r e
Daniel 1-8 (NIV)
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Daniel%201&version=NIV
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@bykaileyann
5. MY GIRL
"Poor thing, you woke up
in a tree that was burning.
Climbed high dear, didn't you?
because you can,
because you always do.
That's the thing about scale:
way up there,
you see the world turning.
because you can, and you do
Clear as yellow leaves twirling down to
the ground in the Fall.
Are't you queer?
always gazing
always praising
always tripping over every
thing in plain sight.
Nothing wrong with the nest,
Sweet Worry-Warbler,
or aren't you grateful
for the roof over your head
beneath my window?
Find another view
because you can
because you do
because you need to get to grips
with the deal.
Papers signed:
great important powerful people
shook on it.
See: It's a controlled burn;
it's a shame that spot you like
has got to go
where the pinecones grow like
mistletoe,
But anywho, Miss:
It's time to find somewhere
else to play."
"MIGHTN'T YOU HAVE CALLED
ME DOWN FROM THERE,
SIR,
BEFORE YOU BEGAN
BURNING?"
* * * * *
/ n o t a r e
Speaker 1 - Sam Cimber, Special Forces Cmdr. in The Seraph
Speaker 2 - Arella Ora, the 'Girl With Light In Her Eyes'; Or, Arella Ora, Protagonist in
The Seraph - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41572645-the-seraph
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@bykaileyann
5. WHY SHOULD THAT MEAN IT ISN’T REAL?
As a girl I thought
That I could ask the winds to change direction
That I could fix the tree trunk that snapped
Just by mixing up a potion
And saying some magic words that sounded
More like praying than anything else.
Did it work?
Was it just my imagination or
Did my kite take flight when I begged the winds to pick it up?
Did I really see that sapling heal over green
After I'd sprinkled it with my special tincture
From the empty glass vanilla bottle
I took from the spice cabinet shelf?
Maybe it was all in my head;
I was only a kid after all;
But my mind's eye and memories tell a story
That makes me smile
Because even if the winds have no mind at all,
It sure felt like they moved for me
Maybe just because I believed.
* * * * *
/ n o t a r e
A brief note from the author - Let it be known that my mom, Bird, says this is my best poem.
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@bykaileyann
7. FOUND IN THE THINGS THEY CARRIED : HOW TO TELL A TRUE WAR STORY
Point;
colors quadruple, canopy
Duck and ever hear
hush-hush
Talking;
pure vapor
Shadows crossed over
sideways
A new wrinkle;
aliveness
Wake and ask,
"Why must _____?"
* * * * *
/ n o t a r e
"Found" in a chapter titled, "How to Tell a True War Story," in a book called, The Things They Carried, by Tim O'Brien.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/133518.The_Things_They_Carried
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@bykaileyann