Un poema para mis estudiantes

Un poema para mis estudiantes

 

You’ve grown up in poverty

But I’ll never call you El Pobre

The American Dream isn’t for you

Because you’re wise enough to want something more

Each of you is guatemalteco

Each of you is American

And I’ve watched as you figure out

What the hell that means

I’ve been there alongside you,

As you search tirelessly for identity

Ever-eluding but not entirely out of reach

 

What you are is an incredible generation

And you have a chance to bring forth

The best of both cultures,

Learning from our mistakes and ignorance

And dragging us along as you change the world

Into a place sin los muros

 

Sadly, I’m leaving you for a while

I will miss being in your life

And hearing you laugh obnoxiously

When I speak bits of Spanish

Como el tonto gringo que soy

 

But our relationship fuels my passion

To learn what I believe is without doubt

The fastest spoken language to date

And I will use that passion

When I am tearing my hair out

Porque no entiendo a los chilenos

And remembering our relationship will push me

To keep speaking broken Spanish

Trying again and again until I can speak

The language that means so much

To us both...

Kickass Words I Found in Moby Dick

I just finished reading Moby Dick. It took me almost a year, and I literally feel like I've spent that much time aboard a whaling vessel on the high seas. Here are some of my favorite cool words from the book that I want to start using in place of their more lame counterparts.

zephyr - gentle breeze
foible - minor weakness or failing of character, slight flaw or defect
conflagration - a destructive, extensive fire
obstreperous - unruly
expostulate - to reason earnestly with someone against something that person intends to do or has done
progeny - a descendant or offspring
skylark - frolic
indomitable - can't be subdued or overcome
perennial - long-lasting, enduring
ensconce - settle securely or snugly
inexorable - unyielding
exegesis - critical interpretation of a text, especially the Bible
anathema - hated person or thing
incorrigible - bad beyond correction
osseous - bony
primogeniture - being the firstborn
portent - another word for omen
antediluvian - old, primitive (literally means before the Flood)
preternatural - another word for supernatural, because why not
sinecure - a job you barely have to work for but that makes bank
somnambulism - sleepwalking
celerity - swiftness, speed
pertinacious - holding firm to a purpose, plan, or opinion
raiment - clothes

- A

HiByes

Several nights ago I was sitting down with some friends and we were talking about how often we see familiar faces on campus. We all thought it was interesting that every time this occurs we briefly acknowledge the other person, then keep walking past them. Each encounter is basically always the same. “Hey, how are you?”, “good, how are you?”,  and typically ends with “good, have a nice day!”. It feels a bit scripted. I don’t think there is anything wrong with this. People tend to be in a hurry and don’t have the time for lengthy conversations. However, I am trying to imagine how different my relationships with people would look if we both answered honestly. I’m not saying you should pour out your life story while waiting in line at Starbucks, but revealing a more about yourself is a huge step in deepening surface level friendships. If you’ve had a bad morning or have been struggling recently, tell them! If you are doing fantastic, why not share your joy? What is the worst that could happen? Someone will know more about you than before? You may understand someone else better than you previously did? These all sound like beneficial things for human connection. 

Instead of simply being short and polite, let's all take a little bit more time to be a little bit more human with one another. 

Be Known!

Thoughts while Vaping...

Here are some things I think about. Maybe you think about them too?

 

·        How do I convince myself that I am NOT the center of the world? Why do I so easily believe that this is all for me, that other people are just extras in my universe?

 

·        What would happen if for just one day I didn’t spend a second thinking about how I look or if other people were watching?

 

·        Are people that enjoy cats actually human? I mean, they can’t be, right?

 

·        Is there another white guy in America named Kieran? IF there is, should I fight him or buy him a Natty Daddy?

 

·        If I never think about death, can I really cherish all the life around and inside me? Is knowing death a prerequisite to having life?

 

·        How bad will my first car crash be? I have an eerie feeling it’s gonna be pretty gruesome…

 

·        What is the most memorable event in my life that I’ve already forgotten?

 

·        How the hell is a guy like me supposed to meet Barry O? What regrettable thing do I have to do to shake his hand?

 

·        Will I ever be able to grow a mustache? I guess I have to get armpit hair though first, right?

 

·        A story from The Autobiography of Malcolm X: “Malcolm X!” he called out- and when I looked, he stuck his hand out of his car, across at me, grinning. “Do you mind shaking hands with a white man?” Imagine that! Just as the traffic light turned green, I told him, “I don’t mind shaking hands with human beings. Are you one?”

Would Malcolm shake my hand?

·        When people are talking about me, how many describe me as NICE? Is there a more humiliating thing to be called? I’d say it comes close to the C-Word…

·        Can I really be a Minimalist with minimal effort?

·        When I feel it often seems like too much weight to carry, but during times where I’m indifferent I am pissed that I don’t feel enough. How much feeling is right for a person? And more importantly, what kind of a fucked-up question is that??

·        Why are the things I love the most the hardest to give time to?

·        Is holding a stretch for a full minute really a good idea? My doubts gain more ground each day…

 

Lastly, why does each line have the word ME or I in it??? Am I capable of writing about anything else besides myself?

The Poem I Say in the Shower

Most of the notions I had about poetry were partially spot-on. Poetry gives an avenue to be dramatic, moody, and poignant. There's a lot of poems about love and death. Snapping goes with it pretty well.

What I never considered about poetry was the skill of the poet. So much of the thrill of watching a street artist paint something on the street or watching a sand artist do something crazy on America's Got Talent is watching the artist do their thing. There's a huge disconnect, for me, between being impressed with the art itself and being absolutely blown away by the way the artist draws it out of nothingness.

I never thought about poetry that way until I heard "The Song of the Wandering Aengus" by W.B. Yeats. I distinctly remember the first song I was obsessed with. It's called "Big Brown Bass" by Randall Goodgame. I remember being a little kid and singing along with my dad and sister in the car. I'd always request it whenever we went anywhere. 

This is the first poem I've ever been similarly taken with. For the past month, it's been stuck in my head. I'll often find myself reciting it in the shower. I don't assume that it will blow you away in the same way it did for me, but I hope it will.

What was happening in his life when he wrote it? What was he thinking about? Did he think this poem was good? Was it his goal to create something so dream-like, or did it happen on accident? Am I even interpreting it in the way he would want it to be interpreted?

The more I read poetry, the more impressed I am with the ability of the poet to choose words: to have hundreds of thousands of words at their disposal, and to string together some chosen few in such a way that 119 years later, some random guy on a different continent will whisper them to himself in the shower.

- A