I still want to be just like my Dad when I grow up.
to see the world the way I see it now
(Most Recent Entry)
introduction to poetry
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
-- Billy Collins
Every tear you cry
Every doubt you have
All of these things will pass away
All of your big mistakes
Your little old heart would break
Wishing that i could take them back
Write down the things you don't want
Burn them in a glass
Write down the things you dream of
Make a paper plane that flies to Heaven
-- Jann Arden
Monday, May 12, 2008
daddy's little girl
I have a picture of my Dad and me on my desk. We're sitting side by side on a huge fluffy white rug in the middle of our old living room at 5 Hillside; I'm not quite sure how old I was. I love it because it sums up so much about my relationship with my Dad. Behind us, there's a toy kitchen set: a proper little girl's dream. But it is abandoned for a book, which lies on the floor beside my Dad. There he is, legs outstretched in front of him and ankles crossed, hands tucked under his knees. There I am, in the same position, looking slightly off-camera. I want to be just like my Daddy, and, although he's looking directly at the camera and not at me, there is a hint of amusement on his face: he loves his little girl.
I still want to be just like my Dad when I grow up.
I still want to be just like my Dad when I grow up.
