by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator
Valentine's Day was this past week, and I have established a tradition over the past few years of sending each of my six grandchildren a Valentine and ten dollars. Not very much, I know, but I wanted each of them to get a piece of mail to remind them that they were in my thoughts.
This year I decided to change things a bit and send actual gifts. My challenge was to see if I knew the kids well enough to come up with something they would actually like.
My two granddaughters, Willow in Oregon and Olive in Kansas, are both eight-years-old and in the second grade. I sent each of them and illustrated "elementary" dictionary, something that I knew that I would have liked at that age - and the dictionaries seem to have been a hit with the girls. My youngest grandson, Sully, is three, and his daddy suggested that a nerf gun would hit the spot - and probably the cat and everything else in the house! I knew that my ten-year-old grandson, Judah, liked books about nature, so I was able to find one that looked like it would capture his attention.
Sebastian, my twelve-year-old grandson, is a businessman-in-the-making. He runs a "store" inside of his bedroom, and often wears a jacket and tie to school. He had been lusting after my old briefcase for a couple of years, and this Christmas I gave it to him - and the briefcase has become part of his school ensemble. For Valentine's Day I was able to find a leather portfolio to go inside of the briefcase, a home for his notebook, pens, business cards and any other items requiring quick or regular access. I have heard that it went to school with him the day after he received it.
That left only Boone, the twenty-year-old. Boone in a junior in college and we usually only manage to connect in person once or twice a year. I had no idea what he would like, so I emailed and asked. He replied that he had all of the books that he would need for this semester's classes, but told me that he is into reading poetry for personal enjoyment. He said that his two favorite poets are Sylvia Plath and Charles Bukowski - and from that insight I was able to send a couple of books that I thought would mesh with those interests.
Here today, for Boone, is one of Charles Bukowski's more famous poems. The work, "Bluebird" has a hard edge, much like the life of the hard-working, hard-drinking, and hard-loving man who wrote it. I hope that Boone's bluebird feels free to fly wherever the winds will take him!
Bluebird
by Charles Bukowski
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
Poetry Appreciator
Valentine's Day was this past week, and I have established a tradition over the past few years of sending each of my six grandchildren a Valentine and ten dollars. Not very much, I know, but I wanted each of them to get a piece of mail to remind them that they were in my thoughts.
This year I decided to change things a bit and send actual gifts. My challenge was to see if I knew the kids well enough to come up with something they would actually like.
My two granddaughters, Willow in Oregon and Olive in Kansas, are both eight-years-old and in the second grade. I sent each of them and illustrated "elementary" dictionary, something that I knew that I would have liked at that age - and the dictionaries seem to have been a hit with the girls. My youngest grandson, Sully, is three, and his daddy suggested that a nerf gun would hit the spot - and probably the cat and everything else in the house! I knew that my ten-year-old grandson, Judah, liked books about nature, so I was able to find one that looked like it would capture his attention.
Sebastian, my twelve-year-old grandson, is a businessman-in-the-making. He runs a "store" inside of his bedroom, and often wears a jacket and tie to school. He had been lusting after my old briefcase for a couple of years, and this Christmas I gave it to him - and the briefcase has become part of his school ensemble. For Valentine's Day I was able to find a leather portfolio to go inside of the briefcase, a home for his notebook, pens, business cards and any other items requiring quick or regular access. I have heard that it went to school with him the day after he received it.
That left only Boone, the twenty-year-old. Boone in a junior in college and we usually only manage to connect in person once or twice a year. I had no idea what he would like, so I emailed and asked. He replied that he had all of the books that he would need for this semester's classes, but told me that he is into reading poetry for personal enjoyment. He said that his two favorite poets are Sylvia Plath and Charles Bukowski - and from that insight I was able to send a couple of books that I thought would mesh with those interests.
Here today, for Boone, is one of Charles Bukowski's more famous poems. The work, "Bluebird" has a hard edge, much like the life of the hard-working, hard-drinking, and hard-loving man who wrote it. I hope that Boone's bluebird feels free to fly wherever the winds will take him!
Bluebird
by Charles Bukowski
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
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