Sunday, March 21, 2004
Two Poems
Heather said something a while ago that I've been turning over in the back of my head recently: "I wish there was just one thing that I was really good at." That really resonated for me, because I SO often feel that way. Like I'm mediocre at a lot of things. Like I'm not good enough at any one thing, and therefore, just flat out not good enough.
That line of thought reminded me of the first of these poems. I looked it up tonight, in this blank book I used throughout jr. high and high school to write down poems that meant a lot to me. I discovered that right after it, I had copied in the Naomi Shihab Nye poem "Famous." I didn't intend it at the time, but it's a rather apt pairing. In any case, it reminded me tonight of what's really important, especially when I feel like I'm not good enough.
"A Hot Property"
Ronald Wallace
I am not. I am
an also-ran,
a bridesmaid, a finalist,
a second-best bed. I am
the one they could have just
as easily given it to
but didn't.
I'm a near miss, a close second,
an understudy, a runner-up.
I'm the one who was just
edged, shaded, bested, nosed out.
I made the final cut,
the short list,
the long deliberation.
I'm good, very good,
but I'm not good enough.
I'm an alternate, a back-up,
a very close decision,
a red ribbon, a handshake,
a glowing commendation.
You don't know me.
I've a dozen names,
all honorably mentioned.
I could be anybody.
"Famous"
Naomi Shihab Nye
The river is famous to the fish.
The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.
The cat sleeping on the fence
is famous to the birds
watching him from the birdhouse.
The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.
The bent photograph is famous
to the one who carries it
and not at all famous
to the one who is pictured.
I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.
I want to be famous
in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole,
not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot
what it could do.
Both poems originally taken from The Place My Words Are Looking For.
That line of thought reminded me of the first of these poems. I looked it up tonight, in this blank book I used throughout jr. high and high school to write down poems that meant a lot to me. I discovered that right after it, I had copied in the Naomi Shihab Nye poem "Famous." I didn't intend it at the time, but it's a rather apt pairing. In any case, it reminded me tonight of what's really important, especially when I feel like I'm not good enough.
"A Hot Property"
Ronald Wallace
I am not. I am
an also-ran,
a bridesmaid, a finalist,
a second-best bed. I am
the one they could have just
as easily given it to
but didn't.
I'm a near miss, a close second,
an understudy, a runner-up.
I'm the one who was just
edged, shaded, bested, nosed out.
I made the final cut,
the short list,
the long deliberation.
I'm good, very good,
but I'm not good enough.
I'm an alternate, a back-up,
a very close decision,
a red ribbon, a handshake,
a glowing commendation.
You don't know me.
I've a dozen names,
all honorably mentioned.
I could be anybody.
"Famous"
Naomi Shihab Nye
The river is famous to the fish.
The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.
The cat sleeping on the fence
is famous to the birds
watching him from the birdhouse.
The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.
The bent photograph is famous
to the one who carries it
and not at all famous
to the one who is pictured.
I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.
I want to be famous
in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole,
not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot
what it could do.
Both poems originally taken from The Place My Words Are Looking For.
| posted by Barbara | 9:19 AM