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Friday, April 12, 2013

Off-Hand Comment

I was reading the requirements for a poetry contest the other day (long story, but no, I'm not submitting anything. I don't think I'm ready) and one judge commented that the submissions should "... not be prose all chopped up and called a poem." 

That caught me by surprise. I was embarrassed. Is that what I do? Do I just take sentences, impose random line breaks, and call them poetry? Am I a hack? But, I said to myself, sometimes words just want to come out that way.

I didn't write for a few days.

I also thought a great deal about off-hand comments, and how deeply I have been affected by a few of them. A boy I adored in high school told me once, "You sound like a frog when you sing." I didn't sing again (even in the shower) until I went away to school, and then only in a choir. Even now I have little confidence in my voice, although I've mostly overcome my silence. Instead I joke that I make up in enthusiasm what I lack in quality. I sing because I love to, but that off-hand comment still catches me sometimes.

"How are a carousel and a fat girl similar? They're fun to ride but you wouldn't want your friends to see." I overheard that "joke" long before I qualified as fat. I didn't realize that, of course. Even at my skinniest adult weight -- at the end of high school when I was working out every day and could count my ribs -- I was still a "giant" size 12. Shame came quickly and lodged deep in my soul. I may never completely believe that a man would want to see me in a sexual way, even though I see other women who look like me -- mama belly and all -- and think they are beautiful and sexy and, yes, desirable.

I turned forty a few months ago. Some find that number mortifying. I find it liberating. Along with wrinkly hands and gray hairs I seem to be growing the ability to dismiss nonsense I once took to heart. Step-by-step I am freeing myself of chains I built out of other peoples' words.

Which is why, even if it is just chopped up prose, I wrote a poem yesterday.

4 comments:

  1. Your poetry is lovely. I wish I could write so well. And you are a beautiful person, too. Inside and out...

    I still carry with me a shouted message by a California Barbie having a horrible road-rage kind of day: "I hope you die, you fat moose!" But what I decided to take away from that unfortunate encounter is a newfound respect for the moose. Now it is my signature animal!

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  2. WOW! I am in awe of your writing skills, your ability to freely express your feelings and emotions, your insightfulness of how things resonate with you and effect others. I have yet to read your poetry, but I'm certain, it's nothing less than extraordinary!
    This piece brings to mind many 'Off-hand Comments' I have endured through out my 50-years and has opened my eyes to how my comments, regardless of type, will effect others! Yanna, you're a rockin chick!!!

    Deborah, I lov the way you took control of the 'moose' comment, made it something positive, and left Barbie's ignorance on the highway!

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  3. I hear your song. It is glorious.

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  4. I'm 46. I've had more fun in the last six years than all my Very Super Fun Life before that milestone age. Let it flow, my friend.

    This is not to say I don't still feel the pain of offhand comments. They stick hard and painfully. I'm with you.

    But that poetry advisement? That's one judge beating a very personal horse. It wasn't until I started encountering poems that read more like "chopped-up prose" that I discovered this English major might actually like some poetry. Do your thing. Let the judge live with his/her crabbiness.

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