The other day the 6 year old girl that I watch overheard her brother talking to the video game screen, “Hasta la vista, Baseball!” She came to me her eyes filled with wonder. After she recited the phrase with a hallowed reverence, she was visibly confused when I was not blown away. It’s hard to tell what it was about the words that fascinated her so much; perhaps it was their exotic sound or just the way it felt in her mouth to say it. All I know is that for the next half an hour, she ran around the house chanting to herself, “hastalavistabaseball, hastalavistabaseball, hastalavisatabaseball.”
When I write poetry, I try to remember the sounds of the words matter just as much as their meaning. It is a struggle, and I am often more intent on getting my ideas across. Perhaps I ought to enter into the world of words as one must enter the kingdom: as a child. All this to say, if you see me galloping around the room repeating the Jabberwocky over and over, you will know why.
1 comment:
Natasha,
Perhaps if you wrote something in nonsense syllables, feeling the sound of the words you use would be unavoidable.
P.S. This blog is osam. The prose makes me laugh or think or imagine, and the poetry is formed very beautifully, even though I can't always comprehend its meaning.
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