I wrote this poem for my first son when he was a toddler. He loved being carried around upside down, and I read this poem and think about how I used to carry him by the feet and how much that would break my shoulders now.
I Am Right Side Up
I am right side up
Not up
And the world is upside down
I walk by on my hands
Not feet
And I walk all over town
Above my head
There's green green grass
And dirt with dirty worms
Below my feet
I see the sky
Blue with orange orange sun
The trees grow down
The weeds grow down
The birds fly under my toes
The cars fly high
The bikes fly high
The planes fly way way low
And the people walk on their feet
Not me
While I walk on my hands
They stop and point
And I point back
At least as best I can
Cuz my hands are by their feet
You see
I need my fingers to walk
I point back with my tiny toes
Who knows
Why the people just gawk
Maybe it's cuz my eyes are high
Not low
And I've such red red cheeks
Maybe it's cuz I look
So strange
When you're walking on your feet
But everyone looks so strange
To me
As I must look right now
Cuz I am right side up
You see
And the world is upside down
I know, it isn't perfect. It stammers in points, but I didn't want to edit it. Like so many things I write, I cherish the imperfections because they feel like me.
- Eric
1 comment:
I love it. It's written so "young" and fresh. The perspective is perfect. Even now I often hang my head over the edge of chairs and couches...love to watch people talk from that perspective so their chin becomes a nose.
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