Blogs Are Stupid

Doesn't anyone believe in Dear Diary anymore? What happened to the joy of putting actual pen to paper? And why does every ordinary Jane and John think they can write well enough to burden the world with their scribblings? It’s a mystery that badly needs solving. My first entry contains my thoughts about blogging and will set your expectations. The rest will probably be stream of consciousness garbage, much like you’ll find on any other blog. Perhaps we will both come away enlightened.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Twilight Hearts

Diminutive One, as I've mentioned before, is a writer.

He is bursting with stories and poems and epics and tall tales. As young as he is, it's clear that he has a gift for language, imagery, prose and story telling, though he is still a little clumsy with the words he so adores.

And he longs to be a good writer. He longs to know the all the secrets of the craft and to improve his skills. He asks to read things I have written and seeks to emulate.

He often asks me how to improve a phrase, to make it richer and more evocative. He asks me for synonyms so often that I finally, with exasperation and gratification in equal measure, showed him Thesaurus.com.

He was stunned and delighted, and spent the next hour looking up words and making notes. It is now bookmarked on his creaking prehistoric computer, that is not good for anything much other than storing the torrent of creativity and emotion that spills from him.

So I know this about him. And still, on occasion, he manages to catch me completely by surprise.

He wrote this poem the other day, and without a word to anybody, hung it on the refrigerator, waiting anxiously, and I think, fearfully, for someone to notice it.

Twilight Hearts by Diminutive One

The twilight off on a moonlit breeze
Shines on a perfect flower
Anonymously cluttering my hands to perfection
It shines on the girl of my love
breaking my heart
Two flowers to choose from
I choose the one that smells of the most luxurious rose petal
My wish to spend all eternity in your lovely, delightful presence.


Is it me? Don't you just want to sob? He is nine, people. Jesus, isn't that too young for a broken heart? Isn't that too young to have pain so great that it needs to be written down, purged, exorcised from his aching soul?

SIGH.

He has a poet's heart, and that I fear, will lead to it being broken many more times before he finds the girl of his dreams; the girl worthy of his twilight heart and petal laden caresses. I hate to think of him hurting, pining, hungering.

That kid...that kid is going to do all the things I never did myself. He is going to be a great writer someday. People will say his name with reverence and awe. He will be a mentor and a role model.

Perhaps he will win a nobel prize for literature. And when he does, I will bring out these carefully pressed pieces of his tender, budding self to show him.

"You see?" I will say to him. "It was always there, and I always knew."

Goddamn I'm proud of that kid.

30 Comments:

  • At 2:09 PM, Blogger painted maypole said…

    so sweet

     
  • At 2:43 PM, Blogger Mitzi Green said…

    nine? NINE??? sweet jesus on a pogo stick. he has a gift.

     
  • At 2:59 PM, Blogger Chicky Chicky Baby said…

    Normally I hate poetry but the kid is a natural. He's really talented. I wonder if we'll be saying some day "I knew (of) him when"?

     
  • At 3:01 PM, Blogger flutter said…

    Oh I am SWOONING!!!

     
  • At 3:36 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    That is really amazing. I would be gushing with pride - can you imagine what his future could be?

     
  • At 4:44 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I get this. Really. The gifted one who is challenging. Excellent poem.

    I've got a kid who loves to read, but his giftedness lies in science and mathematics. I recently told him that it's an honor to know him. That he really is brilliant. And I'll get to say I knew him when. (Not to pump him up, but to help him believe in himself.)

    And I'd love him even if he had no brains or talent or whatever.

    These are our kids, our loves. In the good and the bad.

    Nice going, Mom. Get D O's autograph soon - it's going to be worth a pretty penny in the not so distant future.

     
  • At 6:18 PM, Blogger S said…

    that's a wonderful poem! you should be proud!

     
  • At 6:24 PM, Blogger Amy Y said…

    O.M.G. Nine?! He has more talent in his little finger than 30 year old me has in my whole body!

    Way to go, D.O.! I'd be damn proud too!!

     
  • At 6:34 PM, Blogger Mary Alice said…

    Wow. Just wow.

     
  • At 9:35 PM, Blogger Terri said…

    I have a nine year old daughter and there is no way on God's green earth that she would come up with those words much less put them together in a poem. Your son is amazingly talented.

     
  • At 9:48 PM, Blogger Fairly Odd Mother said…

    Wait, can I borrow, "Sweet Jesus on a pogo stick too"? B/c it seems fitting---he definitely has a talent!

     
  • At 10:56 PM, Blogger Angela said…

    What a special poem.

     
  • At 2:11 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    What an amazing, interesting soul you have there. Very talented indeed. I have a nine year old but she cannot write like that.

     
  • At 4:10 AM, Blogger Polgara said…

    You have a very talented young soul there and every right to be proud x

     
  • At 6:57 AM, Blogger Sherry said…

    Wow That's inmpressive! Well done, D1!

     
  • At 6:58 AM, Blogger Sherry said…

    Wow That's inmpressive! Well done, D1!

     
  • At 9:24 AM, Blogger Random Thinker said…

    In the beginning
    There was Word and the Word found
    Diminutive One

     
  • At 10:11 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    The imagery in those few lines is stunning. I'm speechless. I wish I possessed 1/2 his talent.

     
  • At 10:26 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    First the poem and then "Sweet Jesus on a pogo stick". I need to write these lines down. :)

    Truly impressive. You should be proud. Kellie

     
  • At 11:32 AM, Blogger OhTheJoys said…

    What a tender heart!

     
  • At 1:16 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    he IS doing the things you're doing. He's a great writer, expressive and emotive - just like his momma.

     
  • At 1:25 PM, Blogger Phoenix said…

    He's amazing. And I've never been into poetry. You have to know though, one day he'll find a girl just like him and it will all work out.

     
  • At 3:19 PM, Blogger mamatulip said…

    Goddamn, I'm proud of that kid too. That was breathtaking.

    Please tell him I said so.

     
  • At 4:26 PM, Blogger Sensitiva McFeelingsly said…

    Incredible.

    I've never met him, but he just took my breath away.

    What a gift! :)

     
  • At 10:09 PM, Blogger Her Bad Mother said…

    Oh, gods. SO LOVELY. Heart-smashing regardless of whether a nine-year old or a nineteen year old or a ninety year old wrote it. But nine? Heart-smashing AND mind-boggling.

     
  • At 1:37 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Amazing. What an awesome little soul. :)

     
  • At 11:21 AM, Blogger Ms. Skywalker said…

    Oh, that poet's heart.

    It's genetic, you know that, right? He isn't the only one in your family capable of moving to readers to great emotion.

     
  • At 1:25 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I cant read a damn thing on your website. Not only are blogs stupid, but yours is lame.

     
  • At 11:57 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Beautiful poem! And I loved Random Thinker's comment. :)

     
  • At 7:11 PM, Blogger Danielle said…

    holy crap! He's NINE? I know adults who can't write that well.
    First time I've seen your blog. We appear to be kindred spirits in cynicism and sarcasm. I too am a northerner relocated to this wasteland I call the south. And like you, I can't understand the polar fleece laden dog walkers.
    Anyway, your kid is gifted!

     

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