Photo by Moses Pendleton
HER KIND, by Anne Sexton
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
Powerful poem. LOVE it. I’ve read a lot of Sylia Plath (to feed my cavernous dark side), but somehow never ran across that one. Poem and photograph marry well.
Happy Halloween!
Great imagery for Halloween. The poem is from Ann Sexton, I think.
whoa! This poem fits the start of my work week Friday night. I went out @ 9:30pm to give Scungilli her goodnight walk before leaving for work. The sky was thinly overcast, yet there was a luminescence to the cloud cover as it scudded across the moon. The air was oddly brisk with a hauntingly warm breeze. The only sound was that of the leaves, skittering about as though scrambling for shelter. Then it happened…a great horned owl hooted, a far off dog rowfed, and the coyotes started to sing. All I could think was “something wicked this way comes…”
Ann Sexton, her poetry – brilliant. I’m sure our Ann will make her correction soon.
Happy Halloween all!
: )
Oh God, when I read the first comments this morning, I thought that I had forgotten to put the e at the end of Anne Sexton’s name. Do not know why I put Sylvia Plath. Happy Halloween everyone. Feel free to share any ghost stories you might have.
Stunning photo. I love the way the sunlight is touching the clouds. Will use this photo for my class as we are reading about clouds in poetry and studying visualizations. Thanks for making my work easier Ann!!!
Happy Halloween to everyone!!!
Another incredible Moses photo. Stunning. The poem is stunning too. The images literally jump off the page. I can actually ‘see’ all of it in my mind. Yeah, another successful poem!!!
Oh this was great. The pictures Moses takes are very singular. He has an amazing eye. I really love reading new poems. Judy, that must have been a wonder walk. So much atmosphere. I love Halloween. Happy Halloween to all!
Moses really should do a book with his photos in it
They are so haunting
a jaw dropping photo and what a poem……. a reminder not so long ago of what freethinking women were thought of. it really has never been better for women in the modern world and how easy it is to forget the past hard work of many to get us were we are today.
and i agree; nothing ann does is in need of any ameliorations.
there is an expression for women like ann ” une grande dame” ..a great lady and that says it all.
if anyone has photos of elderly persons(not models) with their pet(dog, cat, parrot, gerbil etc…anything insurable) and they would not mind to perhaps be on the organization web pages, please send to me with their permission or an email add i can eventually ask permission
am starting to slowly assemble what i may need.
thank you all.
elise
[email protected]
Sorry, off topic, but I just saw Catherine’s questions and Ann’s answers on Let’s Name the Puppies. First, Denis is even more afraid of bats! lolol Sorry, but it’s funny. I have Conan tivoed, haven’t been able to watch it yet.
And Catherine, you and your porn names, you are too much girl! Started a laughing/coughing fit for me yet again. lolol
Hollah back at ya girl. I’ve missed you this week. It was a long week, but ended well with my riding lesson last night (happy happy joy joy!!!!), and am helping with lessons at Ivy Hill today. “I’ve made it through the rain” Come one everyone, sing along with Barry Manilow and me! hehehe
Great graphic! and very spookey.
The poem appears to be that of a ‘reformed’ witchy wench.
Happy Halloween to all.
Is this like Ann Boleyn-style 12 fingers? hmmm, spookey poem and picture; sunflowers are so hard to grow and what does grow is eaten by the squirrels.
Anyway, I’m home with a cold and found this blog – love it!
Happy Samhain/Halloween to all, here’s hoping to run into some of the dearly departed tonight!
OMG Tracy, I LOVE Barry Manilow! My dorm-mates in college used to tease me mercilessly about it – ha….”Oh Mandy….”
Ann Sexton. No wonder I didn’t recognize the poem. I’ve read a LOT of Sylvia Plath – ha.
Judy, I loved your description of your walk with Scungilli. It put me right in the spirit of Fall.
Elise, I will try to get you the names of some of my seniors with pets where I work.
I love this
I just know in those days I would so be burnt or stoned just for saying the wrong thing at wrong time
or maybe just because I shine so bright or maybe just for being so conceited and full of myself.
Anyway I love this poem
Okay, here is my scary story for Halloween…
A few years ago I quit my job in Silicon Valley and rented a cottage (read: shack) in a very small California coastal town called Cambria. My shack was on stilts, so the floor was about 3 feet above the ground. The stilts shack was fairly isolated and it was quite dark in the surrounding area. Oh, and there was always a lot of fog. One night my cat, Bailey, and I woke up at the same time to the sound of “scratch…scratch…scratch” coming from underneath my bed! I turned white as a ghost and looked at Bailey (a completely black cat). She looked back at me with the same big eyed expression of “WTF” was that? Too afraid to move, we just listened “scratch, scratch, scratch.” It sounded like someone was trying to escape from a grave under my bed. For the next two nights…”scratch, scratch, scratch.” Whatever it was, it was going to break through the floor of my shack any night now. Finally we couldn’t take it anymore. When the scratching began the following night, I pulled on my coat and bunny slippers and grabbed my flashlight. I quietly went outside, while Bailey watched me from the window with great concern. My heart pounded, pounded, pounded, as I got nearer and the scratch, scratch, scratch got louder. I aimed my flashlight toward the noise. All of a sudden the most earth shattering screach emerged from under the house and this, HUGE, UGLY, PRICKLY, DISGUSTING, PISSED OFF…racoon…came lumbering toward me. I screamed, ran back in the house, and looked outside. This thing was the size of a baby polar bear! I grabbed Bailey and our hearts pounded in sync! I was totally prepared to see some ghoul from “Thriller” come out from under there, but a gross, clearly over-fed racoon? It still gives me chills. What if it had scratched its way through the floor! The next day I had the handy man close up the hole that allowed this R.O.U.S. to get under the house. (Anyone remember the “Princess Bride”? That is what this thing looked like: a Rodent of Unusual Size!)
This is one haunting photo, screams halloween. Love it so much. Thanks to all for your kind words, my life is very much one day at a time. Happy Halloween to all. xox.
the scariest part of my halloween so far is how much stinkin’ candy i’m eating! we bought it a month ago and i made my husband hide it (seriously)…. when we got it out last night, well…. i think we all know what happened.
Cute Halloween story, Catherine, LOL!
: )
I know Cath, I thought of you as I typed that. lolol
Your story is so funny! You had me laughing so hard.
Tammy, I would be burned/stoned also because I’m so liberal and can’t keep my mouth shut! At least we’d go together! lolol
ann you asked for ghost stories ;i attribute mine to hallucination/ extreme boredom/ loneliness etc.
it is not possible otherwise….
i don’t talk about it , my husband does not even know.
at the age of 34 i was divorced after a hugely unhappy marriage to a”charming and devoted” oncologist, everyone thought he was a saint………
i did not date; mothers don’t do that. 3 years later close and loving friends invite me to dinner at a “grand classique” montreal resto.
they bring an old school chum in the mist of a separation/divorce. 14 years older that me, not really my type. one hour into the dinner sitting there making pleasant conversation with this older but interesting/cultured/quite brilliant man a white shadow emerges from my body…….went toward this man and just stood there waiting……..then the white shadow bent over toward the man , looked into his face and in my head i heard it say:” .is that you?…..what are you waiting for? let’s go.” a white shadow then came out of this man stood next to my shadow, they turned around and walked away.
reader, we did get “engaged” but i did not marry him………….because after a fourteen month relationship it became clear that he neglected to mention he was engaged to someone else in london, his hometown.
i can’t remember if it was halloween night.
xxxxx to all ,
elise
reader, he married her.
To Ann – I want to take a few lines of your blog to speak to Tammy. I hope you don’t mind.
Tammy. I read the story of your friend’s tragic loss and can’t begin to imagine the pain she is in. IOne of my good friends is a paramedic and he told me that there was a young boy who died as a result of a tragic accident in Florida. Shortly after that incident all schools and park districts in Chicagoland and suburbs were to have defibrulators installed. This ruling did save the life of another child who was in a similar situation. I know it is a small comfort, but your friend’s tragedy enlighted many as I am sure this is not a coincidence.
A well known newspaper journalist Irv Kupicnet lost his daughter many years ago and in his column he posted a message that was sent to him and his wife from Rose Kennedy. I saved that article because the words were so powerful. It read as follows:
“It was with great sorrow that I learned of the sad passing of your beloved daughter and I want to extend my fervent prayers and heartfelt sympathy. From my own experiences i know how very difficult it is for parents to understand and accept these tragedies, for it is unusual for youth to precede age in the final journey. But if it is God’s will to send us this heavy cross we must trust hi goodness and wisdom.
And most important we must carry on and work for the living. We can be an inspiration to our relatives by meeting them with a smile instead of a tear. We can work indefatigably for the less fortunate. So pray for her when you cannot sleep and pray when you heart is heavy and you can find no solace.
In this way we turn our heartaches into constructive effort to lighten the sorrow of others. You can pray to your daughter, as I pray, begging her to help you face life with courage and purpose” – Rose Kennedy.
Tammy tomorrow I will send my prayers to you and your friends family to give you strength to get through this difficult day.
Thank you Ann for allowing this post.
Elise, something like that happened to me about half an hour ago. I had just scarfed down a large bowl of chocolate ice cream (Haagan-daz) when a white shadow left my body, floated to the freezer, retrieved the rest of the container and emptied its contents into my bowl. The white shadow then was reabsorbed into my body and I ATE THE REST OF THE ICE CREAM!!!!!!!!
I know, it’s scary.
I’m supposed to be writing this book proposal, but if anyone is online and wants to hear a real ghost story, I’ll tell it.
Okay, I posted my post before Mary’s appeared. Now it seems callous. Sorry.
Elise, that’s quite a story. Creepy, in a way, but intriguing. Many years ago, one Haloween night, my best friend had told me about an article she had read in a magazine that described the “secret” to knowing who you are going to marry. All you had to do was turn off the lights, light some candles, and stare into a mirror, while eating an apple (crazy, I know, but we were young). The article went on to say that your future betrothed would appear in the mirror. So, we lit some candles, and began the process. She sat in front of a mirror, chomping away on a Granny Smith, and I giddily sat next to her, awaiting the “vision.” I then reached over to grab a copy of People magazine, with none other than Mel Gibson on the cover. I slowly waved the photo behind her head, and watched her try to focus on the image in the mirror. It took her a couple of seconds, but alas, the gig was up. She ended up marrying an accountant from Halifax, so the lesson here is “don’t believe everything you read.”
Catherine, I have passed through Cambria a few times and it is as beautiful as its name. I drive to the Silicon Valley to visit my computer geek, (but always endearing cousins). I also love lovely Monterey, Salinas Steinbeck country.
Gloria
Haven’t got a clue what R.O.U.S. stands for. And I thought I knew them all.
Gloria
Mary your comment gave me goosebumps
I cant believe it that is wonderful
I have sent her a link to read your story.
I cant imagine it is a coincidence either and how wonderful
You have me crying
Thank you for sharing the story Ann we never would have heard from Mary otherwise.
This will be such a wonderful comfort to her!
Re read the post. Got it.
Gloria
Ann you could never be callous
I am sorry for hijacking your blog so much
I will share a ghost story to match the mood of your post.
My grandma had this older home and while it felt warm and cozy downstairs it always felt as if someone was watching you upstairs.
I use to dread spending the night there because no matter what you did upstairs, who was with you, what was going on you just felt eyes on you.
Being bold and creative I thought to myself this is so silly there is nothing here so before falling asleep I said outloud
If there is really someone here watching me why dont you just prove it and stop messing around.
When I woke up all the pictures hung in the room, were on the floor.
I never heard a sound.
I hung them back up and said outloud ok ok I believe you please dont do that again.
well ann and aislinn,
i loved your comments this is the best halloween in a long time; my husband is close by watching the phillyes and i have ann’s blog with its wonderful souls.
ann ice cream does have magical hypnotic powers you are so right a well know fact.
aislinn true one should not belive all the printed word.
my story? i must have been very depressed because depression is known to sometimes have hallucinations as one of it’s many symptoms.
it took years to get over the cad ………but i met the most wonderful man, we married and i was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.
my very rational uptight sister also has a ghost story. she won’t really tell me because it’s too freaky and happened when she was living in ivory coast all she will say is that we live in such a civilized world that we are no longer in touch with other dimensions as many africans can still be , but she has seen “the other dimension”.
happy halloween a toutes,
bises, elise
Mary -
That Rose Kennedy letter is one of the most beautiful things I have ever read.
One ghost story from my family involves an old house we lived in in Annapolis, when I was about 5 years old. I know this story from my parents, as I’m too young to remember. A note to those who are in the process of divorce – when you divide the assets, you should also divide the family stories as, over the years, my divorced parents have gotten into the habit of telling the same stories, only they each place themselves in the role of the protagonist. Anyway, they rented part of this house, which had once been a Navy Admiral’s house, but was now split up into a two-family rental. In the basement was the laundry, some storage space and a locked room. One day, the woman who lived in the other half of the two-family said to either my mother or my father (depending on who is telling the story), “We’ve so enjoyed listening to the beautiful music coming from your side of the house. which one of you plays the harp?” to which my mother (or father) said, “Nobody plays the harp in our house.”
Soon after this, the landlord was visiting and my parents asked him what was in the locked room in the basement. I guess they needed more storage space. The landlord didn’t seem to know, but he located a key, and guess what was in the locked room? An empty harp case! There were also all sort of ghost sightings in that house – sighted by guests, my brother and both parents.
A few years ago, I was in the area on a book tour and decided to see if I could locate this childhood home. I found the house, knocked on the door, and was greeted by the most wonderfully eccentric woman who was beautiful and older and very, very pale with long, faded reddish-grey hair. It was 11:00 in the morning, but this beautiful older woman was still in her nightie – long and cotton and semi-sheer. There was actually something semi-sheer about her whole being, I’m not kidding. You could see the tiny veins through her pale skin. Anyway, after I knocked, she opened the door and said, smiling warmly, “Come in! Come in!”
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” I said. “It’s just that I used to live in this house when I was a little girl.”
“Yes,” she said, “Of course! Come in! Nobody ever knocks on my door who didn’t used to live in this house!”
It turned out that the man, who was a little boy living in the other side of the house while we lived there, had just stopped by the previous month! She gave me a tour of the house and I could go on and on about how mysterious and unusual and eccentric she was. She followed me to my car, several blocks away, wearing only her nightgown! Padding along on her dainty pale feet – because when she heard I was on a book tour, she wanted a copy of my book! So I signed one for her and drove off. I can still remember the way she looked in my rearview mirror – her wispy long hair and nightgown floating in the breeze.
Halloween is my favorite holiday….always has been BUT – I was more than willing to pack it in today. Twice, yes twice I chased my blow up organ player down the street and my 3 standing light up ghosts on my front lawn were taking a nap horizontally – the WIND, the WIND was so incredible here – I squinted when I was outside much of the day and I really thought two of our weeping willows would snap (their young). What a day!! Now we’ve got the wind AND the rain. Loved the trick or treaters but I am happy the day is over. I had a 7 year old boy come to the door in a suit and I asked him if he was Harry Potter. He said no – I don’t know who I am – my mom made me wear this. You had to be there – he was SO cute.
Now thats a bit spooky. A harp playing? Yikes.
Great posts today everyone. Some really beautiful and touching ones, some good creepy ones, and some really funny ones (I can’t blame the brownie sundae I just wolfed down from Baskin Robbins, however, on any white shadow. I was completely conscious and aware as I told the dude, “More whipped cream please” – ha.) And Tammy, you can’t be too full of yourself, because everything is always about ME – ha. I would have been burned at the stake quicker than you can flick a Bic. Anyway, that’s why I love this blog…we hit on pretty much everything
P.S. Can anyone else hear that? It sounds like a 12-fingered harp playing African racoon from another dimension is taking down all the pictures in my den…
Ann,
Did you ask that old lady about the harp player trapped in the basement?
Catherine, do you still live in Cambria? I love Cambria, and manage to drive up several times a year. I always stay at Cambria Shores Inn, because it’s right across from Moonstone Beach and is so dog friendly. I always take my two Soft Coated Wheaten Terriers, Annabelle and Graham. We may go up in a few weeks. Heavenly.
Tammy’s freaky unhung picture story reminds me of the time I was living in Montana, working on a ranch. Every year in the spring we did what all ranchers do and what all comedians joke about—round up cattle. It’s a long, physically draining, but very necessary part of ranching. Think of it as taking inventory. The ranch I worked on was fairly large, around 250-300K acres, so it was important to get as accurate a count as possible, without making the cattle walk more than they had to. (Needed to keep the Angus fat and plump, not lean and mean.)
Anyway, each spring, we would venture out to all four corners of the ranch and drive the cattle to a midpoint, where we would check on the cattle’s general health and tag the new calves. During this particular spring we noticed we were missing 10 cattle. The rancher I worked for didn’t fret if one or two were missing. He considered them MIG (Missing In Grazing) and wouldn’t go out looking for them. It wasn’t worth the time or effort. But 10? That was a chunk of change (some heifers can command $2K).
I’m not sure why, but he sent me—the smallest, least experience, and only female wrangler—with a big, burly, angry chauvinist to find those 10 cattle. We had been searching for three days when we found two—a sow and a calf. Big, burly, angry chauvinist said he was going to take them back to the spring camp. I said, “Fine. Go. I’ll find the rest.”
Let me just say here that searching a 250-300K acre ranch for 8 cattle in the spring in MT by oneself is not fun. Although the landscape is breath-taking, it’s cold and dangerous. There are bears waking up from their long winter’s nap, hungry mountain lions, pissed off, horny elk and howling wolves. On top of that, it’s scary as hell, especially at night, when all of these animals are moving around. Yet, I refused to go back to spring camp without at least three cattle. (I needed to show up the chauvinist.)
Another two days passed, and I hadn’t slept. I was convinced I was going to be eaten by some wild animal if I did. So, I’d build a fire and write in my journal or read. No joke: I was reading Dante’s “Inferno” at the time. An edition that had Italian on one side of the page and English on the other. It kept me occupied through the night. Exhaustion finally over took me, and I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, next to me, drawn in the dirt, was a map of the ranch, highlighting the spots where I could find the cattle. I went to each spot. In four days, I delivered the other eight cattle.
Ann, the same thing happened to me with a package of cookies tonight! Amazing.
Cath, you kill me girl. You are the funniest person I know in the entire world. “P.S. Can anyone else hear that? It sounds like a 12-fingered harp playing African raccoon from another dimension is taking down all the pictures in my den…”
Lololol My stomach hurts from laughing so much.
Ann, that is spooky about the harp, but I got chills hearing about the lady. She sounds really weird. Second the question about if you asked about the harp music.
Tammy, you’re not hogging the blog. You know we’re all always here for each other. Always, no matter what it is.
Elise, I’m so glad you finally found a good man after that cad.
I don’t have any ghost stories. Wish I did, though I’m such a chicken, I’d probably have scared myself to death.
Oh! Don’t forget to turn your clocks back for that extra hour of sleep!
More like turn the clock back for an extra hour of work! Ah-h 3rd shift! I picked it!! Lisa, I went to bed hoping nobody came to take the candy I left hanging outside, so I could have it…yes, I’m bad that way. And ice cream?! Forget the bowl, ear out of the container. Kim, my neighbor has one of those blow up things…it’s a giant ball filled with yes–bats–that swirl around inside the ball. Over the last week or so I’ve been checking it daily to see if any bats are left swirling in flight, as each day, more and more of them have ended up stuck to the sides of the ball. Must have been a frustrating purchase for the neighbor.
Fun stories. Great blog!.
And spend the evening reading Ann’s novel and I loved it . Happy Halloween again.
Also, I did a number on a whole lot of candies and I shall be sorry tomorrow..
Tammy: what a great story and an even better experience.
Hi, it’s 1 am again!
Colleen, your story gives me chills, because I’m reading it today, Sunday, which is All Saint’s Day and your story sounds more spiritual and divine than spooky. You out alone under the heavens, reading Dante’s Inferno (!) and then the map showing your where the lost members of the flock were. What an amazing story. I love hearing about your cowgirl days. That was my dream – to live on a ranch, rustlin’ cattle.
You know what’s spooky too? That Ann’s latest comment is an hour AFTER the actual time here in CT! She must have traveled forward in time, posted it, and then traveled back in time to the present….
Oh, no, so is mine!
Hmmmm. I guess nobody told the blog about setting the clocks back. Nobody told my horses either so I must go tend to them before fixing blog settings.
Colleen, somehow I had missed your post, and just read it after Ann commented on it. That is amazing. I actually got goosebumps.
Alan, you’re too much. Good to see you, seems like I haven’t seen you post in a bit.
wow colleen the best story, it looks like someone somewhere was routing for u,…a knot in my stomach when i read this.
to all dog lovers, today nov 1st NY Times ” ideas and trends” section page 5 all about dog intelligence.
xxelise
Colleen, you are one BRAVE cowgirl!
Sandra and Gloria, I wish I still lived in Cambria. It’s my favorite place on earth, but the job market is pretty slim there and in San Louis Obispo (the closest big town). I’ve lived there twice when I was taking breaks from my life – ha. Moonstone Beach! Memories. Did you ever eat at the BBQ place near the traffic light that leads to Moonstone Drive. They have the BEST BBQ and burgers. Now I’m hungry.