children's poems ftw

Children's poems may be for children, but I thoroughly enjoy them. Take this poem for example, called "Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face" by Jack Prelutsky.

Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.

Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.

Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.

Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.

Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face! 

Silly-- perhaps, but even silly poems can be saying something worth saying. "Be glad your nose is on your face." Genius. We as teenagers (as humans even) seem never to be satisfied with anything. Complaints have become so prominent in our natures that we hardly even noticed them anymore. But what if our noses were on top of our heads, in our ears, or between our toes? Certainly worse off than we are now. Be thankful the nose is on the face where it is. 

Subliminal messaging? Of course! The poem is for children, but the message is for everyone. The humorous arrangement of the message is what makes the poem memorable and enjoyable to all. Stop complaining! Your nose may be too big, too small, oddly shaped, or stuffed up, but at least it is not between your toes. 

a cheater's guide to love

"The half-life of love is forever." - Junot Diaz

(semi-spoiler alert)

This Is How You Lose Her is a story about love. It's love, but not that kind of romantic cheese only girls can find the heart to enjoy. On the contrary, Diaz's novel is about a cheating sex addict whose experience with love and relationship is all but romantic and cheesy. This Is How You Lose Her is that fascinating story centered around the all-too-common view of women as objects-- the idea that men are more interested in sex than relationships and commitment. Our sad protagonist only discovers his own destructiveness after the permanence of heartbreak.

The novel is an expert look into this dismaying perspective of women and relationships. Yet, while it may be dismaying in this culture, it seems to be quite prominent in Diaz's Dominican culture, where the patriarchal dominance of men diminishes the level of sanctity customarily associated with romantic relationships. And Yunior was exposed to this culture. His destructive father surely was not a help in the respect towards woman. His addiction to sex was certainly not helped when his rather old teacher offered him sex.

And when he finally found the love his life, he simply screwed it up. Did he know better? Sure-- but an addict is an addict. It was perhaps the shock of the heartbreak that causes his inner transformation, when he realizes that the half-life of love is forever. From there, Yunior can perhaps begin.

bye bye nest

Since I soon will kiss the nest goodbye in the near future, it may be fitting to find some appropriate poetry:

Waving Goodbye by Gerald Stern

I wanted to know what it was like before we

had voices and before we had bare fingers and before we

had minds to move us through our actions

and tears to help us over our feelings,

so I drove my daughter through the snow to meet her friend

and filled her car with suitcases and hugged her

as an animal would, pressing my forehead against her,

walking in circles, moaning, touching her cheek,

and turned my head after them as an animal would,

watching helplessly as they drove over the ruts,

her smiling face and her small hand just visible

over the giant pillows and coat hangers

as they made their turn into the empty highway.

Ah--- goodbye from the point of view of the dear parents. I will be leaving my parents an empty nest, and I think, what in the world will they do with their lives now that I'm leaving? What will they do... be thankful that there are such things as "minds to move us through our actions / and tears to help us over our feelings?" Will they watch as I walk away from their car? There must be some sensation of fear, hopelessness, and sadness within any parent who must relinquish a child into the "empty highway." A mother cannot let go-- I know my mother will not: she "hugged her, / as an animal would, pressing [her] forehead against her, / walking in circles, moaning, touching her cheek, / and turned [her] head after them as an animal would, / watching helplessly." This poem seems to specifically connect the mother with an animal, a sentient being presumably with no mind to move through action or tears to get over the feelings. She can only feel. It's pretty sad, actually.