was is the title of the poem I performed last night.
Very casual venue; a public library, of all things. So I got all dressed up in a slouchy Mario T-Shirt but, it has something to do with the poem!
The performance was recorded; not with the awesome camera of bloggity fame, but with a decidedly less high-resolution thingymabob–hopefully, this will not cause you to deign from watching it.
I love poetry, and I am quite very much nervous to post this on here–for some reason it feels much, much more nerve-wracking than just posting a written poem. You finally get to hear my voice, and see me in my full gawky teenage splendor. (Note: I look SO TINY in this video! And I sound it as well! Know that I never seem this small in my head…)
Solicited Advice to Prepubescent Nintendo Freaks
You are turning ten
and I want you to know
I remember what that feels like.
We were about to move 988 miles westward
I started wearing deodorant and a training bra–
and the summer smelled like the pages of a manga book, and chlorine.
Mostly I was marveling over the fact that I was now
I want you to know
that life is about to get
so much harder.
I want you to know that really the only way you’ll be able to have the vaguest idea where you’re headed
is by consulting your moral compass, and even that
is terribly indecisive sometimes.
Life gets complicated, bro.
I want you to know this because no one ever told me
but I do not want it to sound like a warning because
look at the solar system, the veins on a leaf,
the pattern on the pad of your finger.
Complexity is beautiful.
And about those video games of yours–
They teach you
that anyone who attacks you
is a bad guy;
kill on sight.
They teach you that the number of points you earn
is based on the amount of blood you spill
the amount of lives you take
the amount of coins you gather and the amount of
destruction you leave in your wake.
They teach you that entertainment
will always be provided to you
in the form of high-definition graphics and an overdone plotline
They teach you that the princess needs saving,
the dragons need slaying,
the mushrooms need flattening
the galaxy needs traversing
the only life paths are scoundrels, scouts, and soldiers.
Maybe not by much, but
I’ve been around longer than them, Easton,
let me tell you that
when you meet your Princess Peach–
don’t try to lock her in a tower,
the only reason she’ll ever need saving
is if you put her up there.
You are not Bowser;
you have an unfair advantage in terms of height but I trust you not to abuse your size
and your gender;
do not flatten kingdoms for the fun of seeing the Toads run screaming.
The world may give you points for that but I will not,
because I am your Rosalina,
I will watch over you always and I will not find it funny if my humble starship and my family of lumas
are the very ones that you are snatching stars away from.
My beacon will always burn bright for you
I will not always be there to see you but just look up,
I am that star–
the second to the right, yes, that
is the soft glow of my laptop as I type out a poem for you, surf the internet for memes that will make you smile.
I want you to know that this is special–
don’t you ever be in a hurry to grow up because it will always happen,
and you get nowhere if you try to pedal backwards,
I want you to know that you will be a different person in the next few years
you will need something to define yourself by
but don’t be afraid to let that go–
the trouble with dictionaries is that they will try to define you in terms of other words,
when the language itself is not making sense
toss the whole thing out.
I want you to know that it’s a good thing my Language Arts teacher made me write this poem,
because I want you to know that there’s no way you’d hear half of this otherwise–
I want you to know that I will never tell you this but you
I wait for the day when you will
become a Shooting Star,
when I will try to chase you down on my Wario Bike only to have to surrender with a quiet smile
Your life is ahead of you and you will laugh down it like the final lap of Rainbow Road.
I want to be there when I will flip away from my cooking shows and see you on the news,
and I will be so filled with pride I will need to call someone and tell them,
That’s my brother–
only to find I’m halfway through dialing the number before I realize
it’s your own.
I want you to know
that I know
that you are probably squirming in your seat right now
but I hope you know
this is the first day of the rest of your life,
I will send you a copy of this poem from opposite sides of the country when you are in your twenties and
Peach has abandoned you.
Because Luigi is faithful like that.
I will send you a copy of this poem when you meet Daisy,
when you grow out of your boyhood once and for all
and still have the women swooning over your dimples–
it shall be excellent blackmail
I want you to know
©2013 The Girl in the Orange