Twenty Years

Kia Ora!

So I have been writing heaps of poetry lately, most of which I am quite proud of. I chose to share this poem, Twenty Years, because I wrote it in my final. Last week I took my History of Sexuality final and finished with time to spare, and as we aren’t allowed to leave the classroom until 15 minute past halfway I had a little time to think, and write. So this is the poem that came out in the wake of finishing my first final abroad. Enjoy.

Twenty Years

A child of the midwest
Born on the whispered lips
Of the great white north
An imitation of older boys
Rambling through avenues
With glasses that are too big
And words that are too long
But I said them just the same

And I grew up fast
In the movie theaters and
Parking lots
In the arcades
And bowling alleys
Where I learned what
Those long words meant
And said them with vindication
Loudly through speakers
To the ears that heard
Only their own voices
Headphones
Plugged into mouths

I moved
To the deep south
And to the deep north
And to the desert
And to the beach
And I lived where they put me
The best I could
I put my toes in the sand
I put the tan on my back
I put my heads in the clouds
On top of mountains

I finally stopped
Halted in my tracks
Lost in a haze of smoke
I couldn’t see faces
Only heard voices
Crying out
“What is the point of you?”

And I cried
“I don’t know.”

The smoke turned to reverse
Went back into my own lungs
And I saw friends
True friends
That smile and wave
And always remember my true
Name
And they took me to the woods
They took me to the classes
They took me to the concerts
Where I learned more than books
I learned more than words
I saw the man behind the curtain
I saw the projector behind the images

“What are you meant for?”
“I don’t know.”

And I’m ushered off
My own accord
To the future
To the collegiate masses
Of the world
Not just one state
No, not a town
Not a city
Not a single mascot
But the mask of man
The university of all
And I studied
I melded minds
We fused like a family
But we still sleep alone

With fondness I look back
I was young, boyish
I bashed my own nose
With a baseball bat
I swam the fresh water beaches
And the salt water beaches
With the women I adored
I ate the pizzas
And whacked the moles
And I read the books
And grimaced at the films
Before making love to them

I loved
I grew
I lived the words
I became a lover
I became a wonderer
I knew love
Only once
But I met her
And shook her hand

“What were you meant for?”
The voice
The voice of experience
The voice of twenty years
Of expectations
Of build ups
And let downs
And the question is asked
From the masses
From the elder generations
From the skies and the dirt
But finally
As I sit
Alone
My life memory
And no more

I find the question is my own
I ask
And my lips fold
And I answer

“What were you meant for?”
“I don’t know.”

November 3, 2014
Eng 3403

Cheers,

Clayton