Friday, June 8, 2012

The Bestest Better of Best Wishes to Bert and Julie in Iowa

My friends Julie and Bert in Iowa, U S A are to be married tomorrow, (their time, which is today, my time 9th June 2012). In New Zealand we see the sun first, so I am readying the day for them and making it as great and lovely and fine as possible for their nuptials and celebrations. Then I will send the day over there. 

Julie and I have this standing joke, we say I ready the seasons or the day or the night for her and send them over. Then this year, I brought the spring with me in person since I visited her just as blossom appeared on the trees and weather warmed up, in Iowa.

I wish I was there for their wedding, I send my best wishes instead.

This poem is the edited version of one already posted here. I spruced the writing up for them. We need to have everything as carefully prepared as possible, hey, it's a marriage, a shin-dig, a wonderful day of joy and togetherness.


Iowa where Everyone is

'nobody goes to Iowa' he said - grinning a charm to stay put
while on great fields spring trees pretty danced and greened
corn cut or scorched - pale yellow stalks short and scratchy
our green nakedness and Iowa's rolling fields could blend 

the plane from Seattle then Atlanta, (yes Ma'am) - a curved window

this and that messages we back and forthed coloured with years
Julie and I wore the same frilly cardigans an accident of sameness
proved we'd met in cyberspace then turned into shandies with fried fish
on a Friday in a Bettendorf tavern (and TV basketball)

Le Claire's main street high noon of tourist cars - on a Mississippi angle

in the Buffalo Bill Museum Julie recalled she copied the Gettysburg Address
yards of hard writing towards a story for our stubborn laughter
cases of guns and quilts beside indians and sharp-shooters framed
we escape pounding laundry on rocks to be Annie Oakley with her rifle

Buffalo Bill wrangled over 200 cowboys and indians - bang bang scuttling wallets

led to Davenport confectionery box houses with trees of squirrels
woodpecker knock knocked while I walked uphill from a deli sandwich
a green Victorian bed and breakfast where electronic love arrived
family of bluebirds on the vintage wardrobe and the clock blind

you and I writing about kidnaps and stealing each others moments

parked in the driveway by Bert's black American muscle car
he revved an overture behind the sleek red 70s with white upholstery 
hammered a geode for me - Iowa rock brain in my Cherokee medicine pouch
swapped stones to own each others land and o don't let go

ropes of sentences bridge our impossible everywhere

a sunset chair below plans in their wood-panel garage ceiling
into a fairy tale with a furious blonde child to tell us off
and Dana held her finger on the notebook line about alcohol
while the most handsome stetson man sang about journeys

and a woman sang her curtains off til everyone's windows cleared

I became a guidance counsellor to someone ransomed (such a liar)
and the band louder than the evening dark so we rode light home
Jo placed a spider beside me with every twirly-gig of beaded lovely
the gas station on the way a message to a soldier leaving town

large black letters above the logo where truth plays

Miguel and Veronica's swirl of children in their gingerbread house
cherry tree in blossom and violets studded the lawn with bravery
tequila with grapefruit soda and Spanish
clues to a test and talk turned into pictures

our waiter earlier studying quantum physics and my accent

but almost first of all they drove me to the Miss spread wide
my blessed mother I had to think then traipsed pale rocks to touch
three fingers into the drink while shouting about insurance companies
Mississippi rolling books through shimmer and deep

since we've got our arms here other full of each

'watch for the anvil-shaped cloud, it's just like that' Julie on another journey
when a tornado appears you have to leave the car
she'd been in two and you need to get out
and then underneath something like a bridge

all the 'things' she wanted to show me were people

on her brother's cleansing lawn a recently felled tree left a circle
(creosote in cedar makes it difficult to grow anything when they're gone)
and on his man-cave wall a silk Jim Morrison with black dog behind glass
files of music to discover what Hendrix sang about chaos

warm snow fell to cover me from words they'd clouded

and a circling eagle by Galesburg railway station sent me a vision of you
we'll protect each other with the nonsense of this careful
the artist said to me, 'good-bye an'you go and sing your song'
so here I am with my voice back

no one may take from me as if I were an abandoned shop/store dummy

my genius pretenders lit up a true woman with a wall
fine places we're going have protective signs
here now let us plant the trees then dance amongst them
singing of love and our beautiful

Kia ora, kia kaha, kia toa tatou katoa, arohanui nga hoa

A great life, all the best, may your skills be appreciated and well employed, and strength be with you while this great goodness is also for us all, love of community, family and each other, my friends.

Have a lovely wedding Julie and Bert, love Raewyn

If you ever feel like renewing your vows somewhere gorgeous over here, this is a short drive from my place - a couple of hours. *smiles*

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