Oldskool Pegritz
Feb. 12th, 2004 02:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oneirophreniaHere's a poem for you that I wrote when I was twelve years old:
I AM
I am a smart person who likes the forest
I wonder if there is life on other planets
I hear a bird smacking into a tree
I see a cat writing on the blackboard
I want to live in the forest
I am a smart person who likes the forest
I pretend that I know everything
I feel the weight of my mind
I touch the fog and clouds
I worry about a nuclear war
I cry when my cat dies
I am a smart person who likes the forest
I understand that nobody's perfect
I say that ghosts are real
I dream that I rule the world
I try to control my temper
I hope to have a million dollars
I am a smart person who likes the forest
This little gem comes from a poetry anthology that I had to do for an English class in junior high--7th grade, I think. Unfortunately, the portfolio doesn't have any specific dates on it and I cannot clearly recall when I wrote it, so I'm only able to place it as tentatively a 7th-grade production based on some internal clues such as names of teachers and whatnot that appear in some of the later poems. Anyway, the story of how I ended up with the poetry anthology is really interesting: Apparently, years and years ago--back in 1991--I gave this ancient anthology to my then-poetry teacher, Doris Coldren, as a lark or for a laugh. Doris is now no longer my teacher, but my colleague, and today she presented me with the ancient anthology, saying that she'd found it in her desk the other day after more than ten years. Somehow, this artifact of my past has made it back to me at just the right time to reconnect me with an era and an incarnation of myself that I've lately been feeling quite alienated from...as though I've become a stranger to myself. But, looking over my ancient, ancient writings, I realize that...well, I'm almost no different now than I was more than half my life ago. Let's take a look at the poem itself and see what it can tell us about the author at 12, and the author presently.
As a 12-year-old, I was fascinated with living in the woods, as is readily evident in many of the lines--and, of course, I still am today....We can also see the beginnings of my sense of humor and my oneirophrenic sense of imagery emerging in my mention of birds smacking into trees and cats writing on blackboards. I was even then fascinated by knowledge and by the ability to pass myself off as knowing more than I actually do, and I was an emerging existentialist, apparently, who managed to kick out a powerful, weighty line in "I feel the weight of my mind." My mind was a much lighter, much brighter place back then...before the last eighteen years destroyed 98% of my youthful exuberance and hopefulness. But even then I was already beginning to feel the corrosion of the years: I feared my pets' deaths, I feared global thermonuclear annihilation, I fought to control my vicious Croat temper even then....Despite all this, though, a certain optimism that even today I still possess, battered and tarnished though it be, shines through in my wish to remain in the forest, to dream of ruling the world (the influence of Tears For Fears "Everybody Wants to Rule the World," then a Top 40 hit, is clear), and to state uniquevocally the existence of an afterlife. I was a lot more resilient then than I am now, but...ultimately, is there really that much difference between 12-year-old Pegritz and 30-year-old Pegritz?
No. Not really.
Hell, if I were to write that poem today it would be:
I am an overly smart person who likes the forest
I wonder if there's life on other planets less fucked-up than we are
I hear a bird smacking into a tree (and laugh like an idiot)
I see a grey cat writing on the blackboard--the words are GO BACK TO SLEEP, PEGRITZ
I want to live in the forest, far from voices and the shudder of life
I am an fairly smart person who likes the forest
I pretend that I know less than I do / I pretend that I still care
I FEEL THE WEIGHT OF MY MIND daily....
I touch the fog and clouds and dissolve into grinning rain
I worry about far too much that I cannot control
I cry when my cat dies
I am a somewhat smart person who likes the forest
I understand that I am very, very, very far from perfect
I say that I wish ghosts were real
I dream that I rule the world with an IRON FIST OF INSANE SILLY VENGEANCE!
I try to control my lack of temper
I hope to have a billion dollars--or at least enough to get a new car
I am a person who likes the forest.
A good bit bleaker, sure, but...I will be damned if I'm all that different. To quote William Earnest Henley: "My head is bloodied, but unbowed."
In future days, I plan to start scanning the pages from the old poetry book and putting it online for y'all to check out. It's a trip!
I AM
I am a smart person who likes the forest
I wonder if there is life on other planets
I hear a bird smacking into a tree
I see a cat writing on the blackboard
I want to live in the forest
I am a smart person who likes the forest
I pretend that I know everything
I feel the weight of my mind
I touch the fog and clouds
I worry about a nuclear war
I cry when my cat dies
I am a smart person who likes the forest
I understand that nobody's perfect
I say that ghosts are real
I dream that I rule the world
I try to control my temper
I hope to have a million dollars
I am a smart person who likes the forest
This little gem comes from a poetry anthology that I had to do for an English class in junior high--7th grade, I think. Unfortunately, the portfolio doesn't have any specific dates on it and I cannot clearly recall when I wrote it, so I'm only able to place it as tentatively a 7th-grade production based on some internal clues such as names of teachers and whatnot that appear in some of the later poems. Anyway, the story of how I ended up with the poetry anthology is really interesting: Apparently, years and years ago--back in 1991--I gave this ancient anthology to my then-poetry teacher, Doris Coldren, as a lark or for a laugh. Doris is now no longer my teacher, but my colleague, and today she presented me with the ancient anthology, saying that she'd found it in her desk the other day after more than ten years. Somehow, this artifact of my past has made it back to me at just the right time to reconnect me with an era and an incarnation of myself that I've lately been feeling quite alienated from...as though I've become a stranger to myself. But, looking over my ancient, ancient writings, I realize that...well, I'm almost no different now than I was more than half my life ago. Let's take a look at the poem itself and see what it can tell us about the author at 12, and the author presently.
As a 12-year-old, I was fascinated with living in the woods, as is readily evident in many of the lines--and, of course, I still am today....We can also see the beginnings of my sense of humor and my oneirophrenic sense of imagery emerging in my mention of birds smacking into trees and cats writing on blackboards. I was even then fascinated by knowledge and by the ability to pass myself off as knowing more than I actually do, and I was an emerging existentialist, apparently, who managed to kick out a powerful, weighty line in "I feel the weight of my mind." My mind was a much lighter, much brighter place back then...before the last eighteen years destroyed 98% of my youthful exuberance and hopefulness. But even then I was already beginning to feel the corrosion of the years: I feared my pets' deaths, I feared global thermonuclear annihilation, I fought to control my vicious Croat temper even then....Despite all this, though, a certain optimism that even today I still possess, battered and tarnished though it be, shines through in my wish to remain in the forest, to dream of ruling the world (the influence of Tears For Fears "Everybody Wants to Rule the World," then a Top 40 hit, is clear), and to state uniquevocally the existence of an afterlife. I was a lot more resilient then than I am now, but...ultimately, is there really that much difference between 12-year-old Pegritz and 30-year-old Pegritz?
No. Not really.
Hell, if I were to write that poem today it would be:
I am an overly smart person who likes the forest
I wonder if there's life on other planets less fucked-up than we are
I hear a bird smacking into a tree (and laugh like an idiot)
I see a grey cat writing on the blackboard--the words are GO BACK TO SLEEP, PEGRITZ
I want to live in the forest, far from voices and the shudder of life
I am an fairly smart person who likes the forest
I pretend that I know less than I do / I pretend that I still care
I FEEL THE WEIGHT OF MY MIND daily....
I touch the fog and clouds and dissolve into grinning rain
I worry about far too much that I cannot control
I cry when my cat dies
I am a somewhat smart person who likes the forest
I understand that I am very, very, very far from perfect
I say that I wish ghosts were real
I dream that I rule the world with an IRON FIST OF INSANE SILLY VENGEANCE!
I try to control my lack of temper
I hope to have a billion dollars--or at least enough to get a new car
I am a person who likes the forest.
A good bit bleaker, sure, but...I will be damned if I'm all that different. To quote William Earnest Henley: "My head is bloodied, but unbowed."
In future days, I plan to start scanning the pages from the old poetry book and putting it online for y'all to check out. It's a trip!
