Las Cosas que Llevamos - The Things We Carry

This little poem came out of my mind while trying to wrap my head around the multiple uses of the verb "llevar." You'll see time and again various forms of "llevar" but they don't all mean the same thing. Llevar expresses many ideas. My best attempt at a translation in English is below the original (which I'm sure is riddled with a million mistakes).

Cada persona lleva algo; llevamos nuestros nombres

y muchas mujeres llevan bien con los hombres

y llevamos cabello, corto o largo
y la mayoría de gente llevan sus manos
y en nuestros bolsas

llevamos las llaves –

o si prefieres, llevas tus claves

Llevo mi corazón en mi pecho, a menos que
quiero llevar mi corazón en mi manga.
Y, todo el tiempo, llevas mi corazón cualquier lugar vayas

Llevo mis libros a clase,

y tú? Llevas los marcadores.
Esperamos que estas cosas va a llevar a algún forma de educación,

pero muchas veces, me llevo un ataque de pánico -

cada vez, siempre llevas mis berrinches con paciencia y con cuidado.

A veces, llevamos en nuestros brazos al uno del otro
y también otras nos llevan en sus coches cuando

no queremos –

no podemos –
caminar.

Y los músicos y los soldados llevan en paso con el ritmo
Y los maestros llevan a sus clases
Y los modelos llevan los estilos nuevos;
llevan camino de ser famosos.
A propósito, este año se lleva el azul.

Y cada carretera lleva a algún lugar
pero la opción es tuya la cual llevas.

Es un hecho de la vida que cada persona lleva algo;

y la cosa importante nunca fue las cosas – no -
sobre todo, la importante es
cuales son las formas en que les llevamos?

-----
Ok. In English, the verbs are going to change (you won't get that constant "llevar" - but that will help illustrate exactly how complicated this verb is). And not even a little bit will rhyme. 

Every person carries something; we carry our names
and many women get on well with men,
and we all have hair, short or long 

and the majority of people have their hands, 

and in our pockets we carry our keys 

or, if you prefer, you carry your keys *two different ways of saying keys in Spanish

And I carry my heart in my chest, unless

I want to carry my heart on my sleeve, 

and always you carry it any which place you go.

I bring my books to class, 

and you? You bring the markers. 

We hope that things things will bring about some form of education, 

but most times I'm brought to a panic attack

and each time, you handle my fits with patience and care.

And sometimes, we take one another into our arms

and other times, others take us where we need to go

when we don't want to, 

or are unable to walk. 

And musicians and soldiers march to the beat, 

and teachers run their classes, 

and models wear the newest styles on the walk to fame;

by the way, blue is in season this year. 

And every road leads somewhere, 

but the choice is yours which way you go. 

It's a fact of life that everyone carries something; 

but the important "thing" never was about "things."

No - above all, the most important thing is 

what are the ways in which we carry them?

Writing: From the Vault

The Lackawanna Valley (name of the painting)

Industry, sitting on the face of nature.

You ravage her, rape her, deface her.

Industry, you blow your steam on nature.

And when you do, you hurt her. You poison her air.

A child, watching you chug-chug-chug along

Smiles on the dawning of a new era.

Industry, you look so glorious

But behind your mask, you are just a corporate patron

You ravage and rape and deface her for money.

A hit man, a gangster, a terrorist doing only as your told.

Nothing is scarier than feeling like someone stole your diary.

Forget their words, Love
Everyone is lying through their teeth to you
Pick up the pieces of yourself
that you've left scattered on the floor
All of those empty promises and words
they'll come together to form a song that
you've been singing your whole life

We've all seen bad days
but somehow you've gotten more than most
There are days where the rain beats down
and you've been caught with no umbrella
but the sun always breaks through
when you smile.

Can I protect you? Somehow I don't think
anybody can - though we all want to.
Can I love you? Will you let me if you try?
or does this scare you? Is that the reason
why that fear is in your eyes?

Forget their looks, Love.
No matter what you do, they'll judge you anyway
Put that face on; the one you keep masked
behind the rest.
All of those angry stares and hollow eyes
they have no clue what you've seen
I bet they'd cry to be where you have been
Forget the looks, Love.

Can you feel the sunlight?
It's a sign that only good things are to come-
if you let them.
There's no more time to close the doors
no time to run, no one can hurt you.

Look at have you've grown
and who you've become
- and yet - in the end I still struggle to find
words for you, friend.

Just look ahead, love.
Just turn your head, love.
Don't look into their eyes or mind their open lies

Forget the world love
Forget
Forget, love.

Alone, Poe

Alone
Edgar Allen Poe

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring --
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent, or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder, and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --

Wrap your arms around me until your knuckles are burning white.

I think way too much.
I am tired of constantly reminding myself that the 'problems' don't lay with me.
It's my job to turn things around, to keep them positive.
It just gets so exhausting.

Growing up I was constantly in this dialogue with my father:
He would say: "Nikki, what is your job?"
My answer: "To keep [insert sibling name] happy."

This has worked against me in quite a few ways. I've come to learn that I come second to myself.
However, I've also convinced myself that [particularly in relationships] because my 'significant other' comes before me, that I am also #1 on his list.

On some level, I feel like it's absurd that I put others before me... and I find it even more absurd that I would put myself before another on their 'list'.... what a twisted web we've spun!

Pieces of me:

Sometimes I drive a little too fast
And don’t realize the time has passed
I turn the radio up way too loud

I’m trying to drive straight through my life
And drown out all I’ve left behind
But I don’t want to do that anymore

Trains Collide

Nickels

I don’t want to pick up the broken parts of you
I don’t want to fix you up with string or tape or glue
I don’t want to change the way your pieces fell
Even in your broken state, I find you beautiful

I don’t want to cure you of your shattered state
I don’t want to mend your heart, or try to make you right
I don’t want to heal you, help you or change the way you are
I just want to stand beside you as all your pieces fall

You don’t need a hand to hold or a dream to share
You don’t need a friend to listen, cry or care
You don’t need a thing, a wish, a prayer to keep you right
But that doesn’t mean you stand alone in this lifelong fight.

Rain

Trust

Gravity pulls words from your mouth
Lays them on the ground
And watches as people step and slip all over

How funny. Isn’t that what you had planned all along?

Alphabet Soup

At least one other knows.

I won’t let the words set in behind the wall
When things become real, they leave and break and fail.
I can’t let you see inside at all
You might just realize my incapacity to feel.

What happens then, when you learn I’m a fraud?
That the smiles are fake and that I laugh at God?
Where are your words when they break through the cracks
Where will you run when I take off my mask?

I won’t let the words set in behind the wall
Because most words are fake, become plastic, and fall.
I won’t shine a light to help clear up the fog
Because when you see inside, you’ll see nothing at all.