Fuzzable Blogs: April 21 – Poetry Things

How I found a new form of expressing myself.

Welcome back to my monthly blog! Although I’m graduating in three short weeks (agh!), today I thought I’d talk a little bit about poetry.

Where I live there is a very vibrant poetry community. I’ve been spectating poetry events for almost a year now because my best friend is a poet. However, I’ve never participated. I always say that I’m a journalist – I’m not about that flowery language and extended metaphors. But that all changed on a day earlier this month. My university was lucky enough to have slam poet Olivia Gatwood come. She writes incredible poems:

I got the opportunity to attend her writing workshop where we all learned how to write odes. Although I began with some trepidation, I found the experience to be wonderfully cathartic. I half-wrote a poem, and excitedly typed the rest of it out during my next class. It wasn’t half-bad, and I realized just how much I had been missing in terms of poetry. Honestly, despite what previous Sarah had said, poetry is just journalism told from a first-person point of view with more similes. Both are short, sweet, and (mostly) to the point.

I’m really excited that I dove into the world of poetry more than just watching it. I’ve written a couple poems since the ode workshop, and it’s been a great feeling getting my words on paper in a different form than I’m used to. I’d highly recommend poetry to anyone needing to channel their thoughts or feelings in a creative way. After all, who knows? You could be the next Olivia Gatwood.

Here’s the ode that I wrote during that poetry workshop. It’s not great, but it’s also not terrible:

Skyscraper Girls

This is an ode to tall girls.

Girls they call

Skyscraper

Silent and cold.

 

No

My dear,

You are not a skyscraper.

You

Are an island

With roots deep in the ocean,

Deeper than they could ever know.

Your golden palm tree curls continuously reaching

Growing

Towards the sun.

 

You who are always asked

To reach the very best cereal on the top shelf of the grocery store

Because

The child tells you

The last time she climbed the grocery shelves

She busted open three cans of canned pineapple

And her mother was very angry.

 

That is something you’ve never experienced.

 

You never climbed in elementary school.

You ran more often into the monkey bars

Than under them.

Wear the welt on your forehead proudly.

It is your badge of honor that

You

Can do what every second grader wants to do

And make it all the way across the monkey bars

Never mind that your feet are in the sand.

 

You were always the tallest person in your class

Continuously banished to the back in dance recitals

And class photos

and all photos.

Never the center of attention

But always

The center of attention

Because how can someone

NOT notice you?

Gawky and awkward

All limbs and no torso

All clutch your arms to your chest so the principal doesn’t notice how short your skirt is

Not because you like breaking the rules

But because you can’t find clothes that fit the dress code.

 

You wore heels to your homecoming dance.

Do not be afraid

To tower over people who try to make you feel

Small.

You were never

Meant

To

Be

Small

Even when your date looks you up and down in terror

Horror

That only two inches separate your height

 

And you’re wearing four-inch heels.

 

Why do people dislike you so much, tall girl?

Is it because you are not afraid?

Not afraid to grow?

To fill your lungs until you can’t breathe anymore?

To fill up every cranny and nook you were told to shy away from?

Is it because they’re scared that you take up

So

Much

Space?

 

So teach them.

Teach them to smash every box someone tries to fit them in

With bright yellow stilettos.

Teach them to learn to take up space

In every space

Teach them to spread their wings

And dive.

Written by Sarah

College student, aspiring crazy cat lady, and lover of all things on the Internet. If I'm not writing I'm probably watching YouTube. You can find me on Twitter @theccunicorn

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