Building our Camp Fire

Tonights post is a poem I wrote for one of my friends for her wedding (and it is ABSOLUTELY driving me insane that I can't find this one picture of us I want to find!)

Michelle and I have known eachother for years and years, as my mom was our Camp Fire Leader from second grade until we all graduated from Highschool. The five of us stayed together through that entire time frame, and even though we have NOTHING in common, in any other part of our lives, we always have Camp Fire to share.

We had a post wedding shower tonight at my moms and all of my old Camp Fire friends got together to reminice about old times, old wounds, and new hurts. Consequantially, I'm pretty drunk! (nothing like getting drunk with your Camp Fire Leader!)

So, I will share with you this poem that embraces both my wishes for Michelle's long and happy marriage, and the main tenants of Camp Fire USA.

To really get the poem, you have to know the Camp Fire Law, so quickly, here it is:

Worship God (hm hm)
Seek Beauty Give service and knowledge pursue
Be trustworthy ever, in all that you do.
Hold fast on to health and your work glorify
and you will be happy,
in the law of Camp Fire.

then here, is my poem for Michelle and Garry.

Worship

at the altar of each other

Seek Beauty

in the life that you share

Give

of yourselves completely

Pursue pleasure and knowledge

by growing together

Trust

in love always

In sickness and Health

Hold fast

Glorify

in good works

and Be Happy in these,

the Laws of Love

WoHeLo!

Ladies Night: Redux

Guest Blogger, Shelli Martineau, lyrically illustrates a good-old-fashioned Ladies Night.

Hey All, Mediocre Mama asked me to guest blog for her today. I was going to write on being a childless 26 year-old, who really only "mothers" two cats and a bi-polar husband, but instead, while digging through my blogging notes and half-scribbled ideas on mediocrity I stumbled upon this poem written the day after THIS POST by Mediocre Mama. I thought you might enjoy another perspective on our drunken girl's night out. :)




mon amie, my amy

perched precariously on your
mother's lawn chairs we
clink wine glasses and
trade secrets with
the cigarettes passed
between
us

the only object in focus
out in late october air
is your hand,
soft.. fluttering with
each story and idea
across waves of experience and
past pains

we are negotiating our
relationship again
across the table from each other
confessing past cold behavior
and absolving each other with
holy wine and crosses made
to bear.

the tension that held us
together, yet apart, like
loveable in-laws
has been torn and shredded
by mental manicurists

I wasn't aware my brain's cuticles
needed trimming.
but, thankfully, you are a diva
with a pair of shears

you cut through bullshit
and guilt like a hot knife
through a cliche stick of b--
yes, like bourbon

yes, like a hot knife through butter
you slice through
that guy on the unicycle (who
is such an asshole)
you slice off my excess baggage
like leftover lovers
those who cling to my belt loops and
beg another ride

when all I wanna do is
stop life. stop work. stop stopping
and have a drink with
mon amie,
my amy


Take the night off ladies!
-Shelli