From a young age I dabbled in various creative tasks. I drew, wrote songs in my head, and eventually started writing things down. I loved the effect of rhyme. Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein were the Greats of my time. Though I, regrettably, don’t draw as much as I used to I still write songs, sing and play, and, of course, write frequently.
Geneseo is only about forty-five minutes from where I live, in West Irondequoit, and I go home most weekends for band practice. Yesterday I dug up a portfolio behind my couch containing a hefty pile of artwork I made between the ages of ten and sixteen. Underneath was a thin folder containing poetry I wrote as a kid, most of them written at the age of eleven/twelve. Reading these rhyme-heavy, basic poems invoked feelings of nostalgia and embarrassment, and I loved every minute of it.
Here’s a poem entitled, “Circles,” which I apparently wrote April 28th, 2005 (I was eleven):
Circles
Circles are amazing shapes,
With no beginning and no end.
The shape of an orange or a grape,
Ovals always like to pretend.
As big as the colorful planets,
The size of an analog clock,
As small as a piece of granite,
And a perfect smooth silver rock.
The sun that shines with burning desire,
A freshly picked cherry from a tree,
The sparks that hurl from the fire,
And a golf ball that’s resting on a tree.
A circle can be big or small,
The shape of a china dish,
A circle is the coolest of all,
A circle is an endless wish.
I hope you laughed and cringed as much as I did reading that (especially at the ever-descriptive, “coolest of all”). Perhaps what I love most about finding these relics is their purpose as time-markers. I vaguely remember sitting down and writing this poem, thinking it was profound–maybe it was for an eleven-year-old (I do like “A circle is an endless wish,” as lofty as it is). I did the best with the vocabulary and knowledge I had at the time, and now I can appreciate these early attempts that serve as the foundation for my love of writing.
I want to read any childhood poems/other writing you guys have dug up, if you have any. Don’t let me suffer alone.