It starts slow
As I take my first breath
And I open my eyes
For the very first time.
I see my first sight:
A light–unbearably bright.
I blink, and my mind makes a link.
The first face that I see is
My mother; a mile-wide smile
Frames her already familiar face.
Another smile swoops into view:
Father with ruffled hair…
And when I’m three,
I start to barrage them with questions
A never-ending interrogation
About words, life, creation…
How come you have a caterpillar on your face, Daddy?
How come I have a belly button?
Where do babies come from?
How come? How come? HOW COME?
Then I turn five
And I’m so alive,
Making sound after sound:
Burp, screech, plop, beep.
Isn’t that neat?
Oh, it sounded like a motorcycle! Do it again!
Okay, Grandma. I’ll do it again!
Seven. Lucky seven swings around.
My brother and I can be found
Still [fart noise] ing, of course.
In fact, we’ve been crowned,
And my sister and I sell smoothies, promising,
Lose at least ten pounds!
Have energy for days!
And I do. I run right through
8, 9, 10, 11, 12;
I run cross country and take the course record.
I have to order off the adult menu.
I have to order off the adult menu?!
But I’m still a kid!
I still have kickin’, screamin’ tantrums,
And I like chicken tenders!
This renders me speechless.
For a second.
April is National Poetry Month! For the month, I’ll be posting an original poem each day. Today’s poem is actually incomplete: It is a draft, a beginning, of a spoken word poem I’ll reveal later this month. I’m still working out bits and pieces, practicing aloud, and rehearsing it before I’m ready to share a video of me performing it here. Stay tuned! Feel free to send me suggestions or share your own spoken word poems, and I may feature them on my blog!
Join the #PoemADay challenge on Twitter!