Because Language Allows Openness

I am slightly embarrassed that I neglected to list that April is also National Poetry Month in yesterday's post.

Among my friends, and now you - it's widely understood that my preferred means of communication is through writing. I have a strong dislike of phones (in part because of my hearing-loss), and if I had it my way humans would only use their voices to make music or to shout cries of joy! If I had it my way everyone would just write to each other. The world would be a vastly different place if I had it my way...
I've always been like this since elementary school, always that slightly nerdy girl who had it in her head that she was the reason Roald Dahl came up with Matilda. I think I was always sort of slightly weird. But language helped me become less 'weird' in the eyes of my peers. Why? Because I learned to take my ridiculous made-up stories and turned that language into a means of communication with others.

By finding self-confidence on that blank piece of paper I found self-confidence in my audible voice. It took years and I am still practicing; but I have found out that when we take the effort and painful first step to reach out to others - we find that people often welcome us with open arms and eager hearts.

In light of what I just said - I figure I'd share another bit of myself with you through a poem I wrote:

My story begins Once Upon A Time
from An I Can Read Book,
scrawled on perforated paper from the Apple II GS.
I am from the garden of Cabbage
Patch Kids and the Sour ones too.
I am from traditions once lost
now heard, between clinks of tea cups
and snaps of chopsticks.
I was born from a revolution
the slogans dutifully recorded in some
Little Red Book, may it “Long Live…”

I am from an infinite longevity,
from stringent respect not given
till “you say my name.”
I am from telephone numbers
that don’t have fours,
and expectations of high scores.
I am from Newton
or Jew-ton, and lanyards trailing
from cargo-pockets.
I am from popsicle’d Color Days,
and that jarring band trip.

Follow the rising steam marching from
General Tso’s Chicken,
I am from wherever that ends.
I began with AIM and sadly I am also
of html construction: of brb’s and lol’s.
I am from the hodge podge of
MADE IN CHINA, hailing
from the plastic pole of your
red, white, and blue. 

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