And while we're on the subject of Poetry... And men.

[csecooney]

A few things, and then a story.

1.)

First of all, Magical Amal, Queen of the Goblins, is blogging for Tor. Tor must have made the correct oblations, offered the ripest pomegranates and persimmons, maybe sent her a box of Harry and David and a few Unseelie Skulls. Who knows?

BECAUSE IN RETURN SHE HAS WRITTEN FOR THEM THIS BEAUTIFUL THING!!!

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Comments

[asakiyume]

I like your story very much, though I was on the fence about the golden boy. His sort I tend to avoid, for the very reason you mention (that everyone is mobbing them), and I don't think much of people wanting poems written about their beauty--I mean, I wouldn't like that in a woman, and I don't much like it in a man. But he has two hugely redeeming qualities: (1) He seems to have been genuinely interested in you for you (checking out your written works and asking after your interests) and (2) when you gave him his poem, he thought to ask if anyone had ever done you the same favor. Both those things show an outward-looking generosity that maybe goes some way to explaining his popularity. And so I've decided I like him after all.

And I really like your message about taking courage and presenting people with poems.

[csecooney]

Ah, but Francesca... Francesca! FRANCESCA! If a TREE asked you to write a poem about its beauty, you would throw your arms around obliging it. If a sunset begged you, with a tinge of self-mockery, to let you know it is beautiful, though all the world stopped and stared and thought so, but no one bothered to SAY, you would take the pen so quickly your calligraphy would have wings.

I take the same view of humans, mostly. It's all the same kind of beautiful. Sentience schmentience.

Nevertheless, I am glad my story didn't put your back up ENTIRELY. Now you've made me want to write a poem to YOUR beauty, just to tease you... Because YOUR BEAUTY...

is a threshold
between us and
a starry land
where every dewdrop burns
with wild
self-awareness
no less bright and dark
than your eyes

[asakiyume]

Hahahaha--well how can I remain a judgmental sourpuss when I'm being offered poems?!?

Claire's heart
is stitched with joy's long rays
and in the vessel of eyes
is held a potion:
drink deeply of her gaze
and you will see the world anew.
And the wondering look
that you return to her
will overbrim with birdsong
a chorus from the shadows
crying welcome to her dawn

I have no objection whatsoever to seeing and celebrating the beauty of all things--it's the asking for a poem, and that what he wanted was one to commemorate his beauty--that got to me. Even if we're talking about inner spiritual beauty ...

... But you know, it's silly, because if he had said, "I'm feeling so ugly; there is no beauty in me," then I would have been all, WRITE HIM A POEM, SHOW HIM, SHOW HIM.

But it's wrong to knock him for expressing a desire to be--in someone's eyes at least--beautiful. Better to say it directly than to connive to get a poem by, say, pretending misery and unworthiness.

Yep. Overthinking things.

Gonna go make R's school lunch....

[csecooney]

You are entirely adorable. Overthink away! It's fun to watch.

AND I GOT A POEM A POEM A POEM!!!

Thank you!!!

[thegreenyear]

What a lovely story with a lovely ending and a lovely moral: Write, dammit.

[csecooney]

Well, I didn't mean to MORALIZE, but it is sort of set up that way, isn't it? Do you ever find that when people tell morality tales, your initial response is to do THE EXACT OPPOSITE??? I hope I didn't put people OFF writing poetry!!!

Because, it's true... WRITE, DAMN IT!

Right??? Right.

[csecooney]

Do any of us deserve anything? It is a privilege to string words together sometimes - to ANY effect at all!

Thank you for thinking me a Beautiful One.

As Vincent Perez says in "Swept from the Sea" (sob), "We are the lucky ones!"

[csecooney]

GRACIOUS! I didn't know that! How FABOOSH! It is is IS a goodness!

[marialuminous]

I am happy that you wrote a poem for the Golden Boy. Even though people like him often have more admirers than they know what to do with, sometimes they also feel lonely and unloved and unbeautiful, afraid that their golden glow is only superficial or temporary or a facade.

I suspected he was teasing, though his face was grave. So I gave him my Best Dubious Eyebrow and asked, "Do you really think you need one?"

And he said, in the oddest voice, "Yes. Right now I need to be told I am beautiful."

The way I read this story, the Golden Boy was joking with you, but with a serious undercurrent. Maybe he really did need to hear it just then. And maybe, a couple days later, he was a little embarrassed that he let his delicate and vulnerable side show, even momentarily, so he tried to pretend that he didn't really want the poem after all. I am glad, for his sake, that he was able to accept your gift in the end.

I like the way you see your world, and the people in it.

[csecooney]

I thought him very brave myself. And I like a person to be audacious now and again, and to know what they want!

You know, I worked mostly by myself in used bookstores for the last 9 years or so, or alone as a massage therapist, or in relative solitude in the lone splendor of secretarial work. I've never been stuck in a booth with a bunch of teenagers and empty-nesters before. It is at once entertaining and FRIGHTENINGLY negative sometimes. The gossip and outward-directed criticism and self-deprecation of the general conversation has been GRINDING on me.

Being human and therefore mimetic, I can feel myself (reluctantly) changing. Adjusting. And then resisting the change and becoming irritable.

So it's nice to... Just... write a frikkin poem for someone, in a way that celebrates them AND MYSELF without tearing anyone down.