Thursday, August 20, 2009

poetry on ice

I am a famous celebrity poet.
I like to write poetry and let my feelings and creative ideas flow. And I love to make everything rhyme.


Now, don't be fooled, I did not say that I am a talented poet. Hah! I just enjoy writing and find it cathartic in a way. Sorta like blogging. Trulio. I am way more into the blogging than he poeting these days. But I can recall a time when I wrote poems like they were going outta style. You know what was actually going out of style when I started writing poetry? Rolled acid wash jeans, worn with puffy hot pink socks that matched my electric pink t-shirt (knotted of course). That went out of style and I can't for the life of me understand why that fad has not returned.


The point of all of this nonsense is to fill you in on breaking news. In July, I was helping my mom clean out her garage (before she moved, remember?). I found a crap ton of memorabilia documenting my life. From colorful pre-K finger paintings to mementos left over from my Sweet-16. Pictures from every fancy dance I went to in high school... complete with the most frighteningly atrocious 90's dress/makeup/hair combos you can imagine... the teenage version of me looked like I was 45 years old in those get-ups... and my dates look like they should've been in romper room. Oh the bremories. They've scarred mine eyes and my head aches to even imagine the images once again.


I also stumbled upon about 594 love letters from my college boyfriend and 8,361 pictures of his 19 year old face (etc). Was he my first love? I don't really know. I consider him my first real love but know I thought I was in love at ages 5, 8, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17... you get the picture. Anyway, you'll be happy to learn that upon discovery these pictures and letters were thrown away. Not all, but most. A girl's gotta keep some evidence that she was once a teenager in love. Obvi.


I also uncovered my stash of poetry. If it can be called that. I found poems dating back to my 12 year old Jersey Girl days, written about how I felt like ... wait for it.... a BALLOON. I am oh so deep. In Eighth Grade I wrote about love, and how I would love Chris forever and ever and be apart from him never (that may or may not be a direct quote. 'Forever' and 'ever' and 'never' rhyme, right?). In high school I wrote about how I longed to be free of my parents rules. How I wanted to make my own decisions and my own mistakes.


I also wrote a love poem about my major crush (i'll call him Homeless Teen) and how I was sure it was "meant to be". Freaky. Homeless Teen barely knew I was alive and I didn't actually know him either. Just liked him from a distance and treasured my one picture with my stalkee. Bc that's what crazed teenagers do, ok? Don't judge. All I have to say to you right now is this: Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes. Ok so maybe it is Jack Handy saying it to you. Take that. Pow.


Do I ever write poetry now that I'm all growed up? Thank you for asking. Yes, I do. Not often and not well. I wrote like two or three poems this year, and I don't think I wrote any last year. They come to me in spurts. Kind of like writing in my journal... I either write in it on the regular or abandon it for months into years. I find that I journal and write poetry both when I'm confused or down. To try to sort out my feelings, to get them out of my head, out of my heart, and onto the paper. When I can see the feelings in black and white they don't seem so gray (grey? i hate that there are multiple spellings of that word!!). But sometimes I make little poems in my head. I like to pretend I'm creating lyrics for a new hit song. Coming soon to imeem.... you just wait. Can you relate? <---- do you see that rhyme?? I told you I get a big kick out of rhyming! My rhymes are always simplistic and uncomplicated. Because I'm writing for the everyman... jk I'm just writing for me.

9 comments:

rita said...

I wanted to write poetry when I was a teen. I cannot. Every time it snowed (and we live in the freaking mountains) I'd sit at the window and try oh so hard to write about it, but nothing. ever. came. It was frustrating.

Many years later, I was assisting a kid in his senior English class. Great teacher, and assisting just that one kid, it was as if I could take the class too. One day he had us scribble down the first thing that came into our heads; for once I just had to write. I'd had a sort of nightmare/sort of comforting dream about a nuclear bomb going off in DC, which was 100 miles due east across a couple of mountains. So you just know that if it were bombed we'd sure as hell be seeing that cloud. (My first political memory is of the Cuban missle crisis. So shoot me.)

So anyway, in this dream I could see the blast approaching (right through that good-for-nothing mountain, which I'd always thought would protect us) (and yes, I actually thought about those things) and my only thoughts were for my daughter and granddaughter, then....nothing. No fear, no pain. Just knowing that I'd never again fear a nuclear blast.

'Cause I no longer existed.

Good times, good times.

june cleaver said...

I am no good at rhymes and I am horrible when it comes to writing poetry... but I am great at riddles!

Like this one:

How does a turtle cross the freeway?
Take the "f" out of "free" and the "f" out of "way"

wait for it...

figure it out.... it is a riddle.

Get it!

hehe :)

Alice said...

HAHAHA! At June's riddle! It took me a minute. DUH! haha!

Anyway, I used to write poems in high school. they were always about love, and always rhymed and were always sad.

I need to find those.

Uptown Girl said...

Rita- you are a poet and you just don't know it.

June- wtf!? I'm lost. I've been trying to figure out the riddle since yesterday and I don't get it. at all. waaaaaah...... help?

Alice- we are in a fight. your comment makes me feel stupid bc i can't get the riddle! help?

someone please help me get the riddle before i go MAD(er)!!!

Lovey said...

I can't get the riddle either. June, I know we havent been formally introduced- but I have LOVED your swoon, and therefore feel we have the makings of a great friendship. Please have pity on my lack of witty riddle-ishness, and clarify the mystery.

But back to Uptown girl's post- i SO do the same thing with the journaling. Its either never or always! why is that????

Uptown Girl said...

Thank you for asking Lovey. The reason we are all or nothing with journaling is this: we are such amazing people and we usually get all of our thoughts, feelings, and uber elitist ideas out thru word of mouth or thru word of blog.

[you like my explanation? does it make us sound important enough? ;) ]

Alice said...

I'd hate to ruin it for others...but her goes...

"take the f out of way" <--There is no F in way. Get it? There is no F'ing way he'll cross the freeway!

Okay my journal writing is the same way. I have mad ish from Nov-Jan...then one or two other entries from this year...nothing else this year. I suck. :)

june cleaver said...

Thank you Alice.

It helps if you say the riddle outloud.

:)

Uptown Girl said...

i died when i finally got the riddle... and Lovey and I had a good chuckle over it.

more riddles please.