I’m from the pink bunny suit,
from the Blue Bunny bucket.
(Cookies and cream.)
I’m from fresh-cut yellowing grass
and the splintered deck,
from fading blacktop baking in dog-day sun.
I’m from the lonely maple tree
resurrected and towering
(kingly?)
in the sea of could-have-been green.
I am from poetic warriors,
from sagacious poets
and valiant sages.
I am from righteous, holy honor
and crushing cruelty.
I am from corrupt freedom
and honest servitude.
I am from the teeming bazaar,
from heady, exotic spices
blending smoothly in the saturated air
and the primordial communal soul.
I am from nimble fingers
and tongues,
Weaving silk thread
and epics.
Somewhere
A raging sea collides with
an indomitable cliff,
battering the ancient, obstinate rock.
I am from that sand,
from here and there.
Belonging nowhere
but where the waves take me.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
L'été
I think now I'll go with a reason that I feel like holding on to this year with all the strength I can. I'm afraid of summer. Seriously. I love the warm weather (hate the hot weather, though) and all the green and the long days and staying up almost as long as I want and waking up basically whenever I want and writing run-on sentences and not worrying about the consequences (not really). But.
I'm afraid of summer because of the boredom. Last summer, my first horribly tedious one, my brother, six years older than me, had an internship here in Rockford. I never could take advantage of his driving capabilities because he was only home in the evenings. This summer, he has an internship at a firm just outside of NYC. That means three more months of just a house holding only my parents and me.
Parents: the other reason I'm afraid of summer. Summer reminds me how much different I really am from most of the other people in my class. Of course, there are many instances where I treasure and value some of those differences. However, I find it rather hard to cope sometimes with my parents' draconian rules and irrationally backed beliefs (mainly generalizations) about girls, dating, sex, and "American" culture in general. If I were in a particularly frustrated mood, I might say that my parents believe that if you hug a girl, she will eventually get pregnant and your life will be ruined. In actuality, they are intensely worried about a slippery slope sort of deal. My real problem lies in their approach to the situation, which is truly a serious one. It all boils down to East vs. West. The "Western" idea is that trust in a child with enough education will eventually result positively. The "Eastern" idea is to completely seclude the child from all "negative" things until the very last moment possible. In other words, instead of trusting that they have supplied me the tools to resist foolish temptation, my parents have decided to eliminate temptation altogether.
I'm afraid of summer because of the boredom. Last summer, my first horribly tedious one, my brother, six years older than me, had an internship here in Rockford. I never could take advantage of his driving capabilities because he was only home in the evenings. This summer, he has an internship at a firm just outside of NYC. That means three more months of just a house holding only my parents and me.
Parents: the other reason I'm afraid of summer. Summer reminds me how much different I really am from most of the other people in my class. Of course, there are many instances where I treasure and value some of those differences. However, I find it rather hard to cope sometimes with my parents' draconian rules and irrationally backed beliefs (mainly generalizations) about girls, dating, sex, and "American" culture in general. If I were in a particularly frustrated mood, I might say that my parents believe that if you hug a girl, she will eventually get pregnant and your life will be ruined. In actuality, they are intensely worried about a slippery slope sort of deal. My real problem lies in their approach to the situation, which is truly a serious one. It all boils down to East vs. West. The "Western" idea is that trust in a child with enough education will eventually result positively. The "Eastern" idea is to completely seclude the child from all "negative" things until the very last moment possible. In other words, instead of trusting that they have supplied me the tools to resist foolish temptation, my parents have decided to eliminate temptation altogether.
The biggest problem: I'm too afraid to stand up to my parents. I'm deathly afraid of the consequences; yet, I have no idea what they might be. When your mother informs you that you will totally betray her and, for all intensive purposes, kill her by marrying someone whose family doesn't speak the same major Indian language that yours does, you worry.
So why am I afraid of summer? I'm afraid of hearing and reading about all the normal things that my friends do outside of school. I'm afraid of the painful feeling of longing for normalcy. (Yet I don't want to be normal.) I'm afraid of facing the truths of my life and even more afraid of accepting them without a fight.
Summer? Please be gentle on me.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Finally
Yeah, I just remembered that I had one of these. What was it for? Hmmm...let's see...oh yes, to "practice my writing skillz." I mean, "skills." Tobi must be getting to me.
I've got to say, this layout is pretty nice and clean. It appears that, sometimes, less actually is more and not just a clichéd adage that bothers me from time to time. I'm digging this font, too. Very nice. All very nice....
I've spent the last ten minutes staring at the screen and trying to think of an important yet humble topic upon which to expound.
Yikes! Less than a couple months left of school! The end of the school year most definitely stealth-attacked me from behind. Though there are reasons that I want to stay in school this year for a little bit longer, the reasons that I can't wait for sophomore year definitely outweigh them.
Number one on the list: I won't have to sit through another one of Ms. McFadden's classes. Plus, next year, if all goes as planned with scheduling, I'll get to have Mr. Sabathne and MR. LONGHENRY. That's like losing a penny and finding two golden dollars, because Sabs and Mr. L are each 100 times better than Zena the Warrior Unionist (Ms. McFadden for those who don't know).
Maybe the next time I remember my understated blog friend, I'll continue this "list".
Au revoir, mes amis
I've got to say, this layout is pretty nice and clean. It appears that, sometimes, less actually is more and not just a clichéd adage that bothers me from time to time. I'm digging this font, too. Very nice. All very nice....
I've spent the last ten minutes staring at the screen and trying to think of an important yet humble topic upon which to expound.
Yikes! Less than a couple months left of school! The end of the school year most definitely stealth-attacked me from behind. Though there are reasons that I want to stay in school this year for a little bit longer, the reasons that I can't wait for sophomore year definitely outweigh them.
Number one on the list: I won't have to sit through another one of Ms. McFadden's classes. Plus, next year, if all goes as planned with scheduling, I'll get to have Mr. Sabathne and MR. LONGHENRY. That's like losing a penny and finding two golden dollars, because Sabs and Mr. L are each 100 times better than Zena the Warrior Unionist (Ms. McFadden for those who don't know).
Maybe the next time I remember my understated blog friend, I'll continue this "list".
Au revoir, mes amis
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
