Twenty-Eight Years Old, plus Love Poem Videos

Today I am twenty-eight years old

and a day,

and what a day it was!

What a year!

What a life!

I can’t help but be pleased

every Valentine’s Day

and bask in my singularity.

Love is often about gratitude,

and I’m so grateful to have been born

into a loving family,

into a house where stories covered every wall,

like rainbows through a prism

that was my brothers and sister and parents.

And I’m grateful for my friends,

even if it’s hard to put into words how much I love them,

especially for those who,

distressed by the weight of the world,

seem to have given up on words entirely;

given up too young.

When we were in high school,

we had tea parties on my living room floor,

adorned in sun dresses,

and discussed the power of stories,

as if words could float like soap bubbles though the air,

shimmering and popping on our skin.

Words were power,

and we were the ones who made the words.

But now you’ve given up that power,

or given up on that power.

Who made you so disillusioned

so young?

Who made you forget that you used to read

more books in a year

then I’ve read in a life time?

You used to write down quotes you loved;

I wonder where that notebook is now…

Today I am twenty-eight years old and a day,

and I still feel very young,

but also oddly accomplished.

Singularly accomplished.

I’ve written three books,

work two jobs,

and study one topic all day long.

In a roundabout way,

I’m living my dream.

And as I sit here,

on the first unbirthday of my twenty-eighth year,

holding my book in my hands,

I feel grateful for all the people I love,

even those I can never tell.

I think this story is about love;

I think all good stories are,

and I hope that in a roundabout way,

my words can reach out to my friends

and give them power

and show them love.

The above is my second once-a-month poem, and since yesterday was Valentine's Day, I thought it might be nice to revisit two of my old love poems... or rather one love poem, and one poem that is ostensibly about love but is actually about scarves. Inspired by my poet friend, Kaye Spivey, I thought that I would try reading them aloud to give you all an idea of how I picture the rhythm of each poem; this is a project that will continue throughout the year. I'm not sure of the video quality (I used my computer camera), but hopefully it gets the feeling across.

"My Love is Like a Stripy Scarf"

"Taking a Walk with You"

♠♦♣♥♣♦♠

On a final, more clerical note, I've decided to officially change my blog update days to Wednesday (except for March 7th!!!). My classes this semester require posting on Monday and Tuesday (boo!!!) and I'll be picking up a Tuesday evening shift at the library in a few weeks (yay!!!), so posting on Wednesdays will be easier for me.