Writing in Your Underwear, DAY 2

Writing in your underwear: Day 2 Sat. 6:49 am. Outside in the chill of morning.

Writing in (your) my underwear.
I don’t know if it’s the feel of the chill or my obstinate determination to carry through with this lunacy. I’d take off my clothes, all my clothes and tell you that I am writing ‘naked’ but I don’t have to do that because that is the sole purpose of writing in my underwear — to have my preconditioned or controlled mind, writing to be free of fear (of what you may think of me) and holding back. (Are our poems but the enameled shell of our hunched back Kokopelli self — seemingly an expose but not really the ‘naked’ truth)? (A subverted cry for intimacy discussed in imagery and metaphor)?
And then there’s the possibility, given the way some Twitter or Facebook items can go viral — “Poet will write a poem in your underwear — mail to. . .we accept Visa and Mastercard. But wait, just for the extra postage and handling, we’ll write and send back to you a poem in a second piece of your underwear. . .just let us know if you want a sexy poem, general interest, political, scientific, religious, . . . poem in your underwear.”
Getting carried away here, but also wondering if something like this went viral — Facebook or Twitter — “starving poet needs your help to pay for rent, food, medical bills — send your. . .” You get the picture.
Really though, I am meeting a different persona while sitting out here, in the chill of morning, at the patio table, writing in my underwear — you don’t need a description, except my T-shirt has a Hooked on Books logo and on the back, “I read banned books.” When I pull it up and slide off my T-shirt my skin feels as if you are spreading cool aloe vera gel up my spine, Aahhh! I like that — as we all like our skin to be touched — encased in Mother we all were constantly surrounded by and touched by flesh, and those of us fortunate enough to be snuggled and cuddled and even lucky enough to be naked skin to naked skin while breast fed, we know consciously how much we love the touch and feel of loving care. Do we get enough of it? I never turn down the opportunity for Mary to scratch the itches on my back — seems like I have itches every night that need scratching and then troweling smooth with her hand.

So what if I did write in your underwear? What do you think I’d say and where would the words be placed? Thinking about that. And what message would be between the lines because of where the words were placed? Like on the neck band of your undershirt, or the bell curve of your . . .or, or, you can imagine the chosen place on the fabric — so what does that feel like? Yikes! Someone writing on your underwear. An intrusion? A gift? Awakening? Grace? Well, some one is writing on your brain everyday — all day — in ads (false) or (spurious at the least) or in the news, commentary disguised as news. Look at the ad I read, “Tomatoes — picked by farmers.” Is that what we call enslaved migrant workers? Farmers?
The media, doesn’t write in our underwear. Most dangerously, the Media writes in our brains and it starts when we are naked as flower buds in Mom’s arms.
So, I’d rather have you write in my underwear or I in yours, and all day long, words hugging your skin, “may sunshine blush in your heart; or ‘you are beautiful’ or ‘peace to you my brother/sister.” Hey, much better than ‘fruit of the loom’ or some horse riding urban cowboy with a polo mallet on a horse. So, as I write the last few words, this morning, with chilled goose flesh on my thighs, think of some one you love (or not) and what words you’ll write in their underwear — today mine will be, “May these words bring laughter, fun, and wisdom to your heart and spirit.”
Post script: SO as you open your dresser drawer to select your drawers for the day, instead of musing over pink, or black lace, or those powdery blue ones, or the white undershirt, what if you select underwear because of the words written on it, like, ‘peace;’ or ‘I love…’ or ‘excellence has no finish line’ or ‘warrior of the heart’ — ah, what special day that intentionality will bring to your life. Blessings. Amen.

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About Ciletti

Jim Ciletti, an award winning poet, filmmaker, and author, is the 2010-2012, Poet Laureate of the Pikes Peak region, and for 41 years, poet-in-residence for the Orme School Fine Arts Festival. Jim gives many workshops on the writing and performance of poetry, and makes poetry house calls to create personal poetry events. Ciletti loves everything Italian, including cooking for family and friends, and loves to plant garlic, make homemade wine, and eating peaches and plums. "Everyday is Christmas, but you don't always get everything you ask for. Sometimes more. Poetry celebrates life."
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One Response to Writing in Your Underwear, DAY 2

  1. You are probably slightly insane, or perhaps in this day and age, anything goes.  I like the idea of you writing on my underwear.  Perhaps, you will draw me a butterfly and write a poem about free flight over our beautiful garden. Love, Mary

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