birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name

For Easter, I got Matched and so I’ve been reading it again. I forgot how good it was. Even though I know the story now, I still feel tense as I read… and I’m once again inspired to memorize as much poetry as possible. (I know the “do not go gentle” poem is the important one in that book, but I LOVE the birthday poem. It’s a possible addition to my memorization list.) Although I was already partly inspired to do this when I checked out a book of Tennyson’s poems from the library. I loved “The Splendor Falls” because of the blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying / blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 
And our echoes roll from soul to soul
And basically the whole thing.
I’m going to memorize that one first.

And then I went for a walk and it rained and when I got home we had recieved our new trash cans. The same ones the DHFs have had for ages already, the same ones that Bug hates, and which disturb me for various reasons. (Namely because it’s just a clever, clever idea to eliminate more jobs. Congratulations on being a dang genius, whoever came up with this.)
Mom: “The dystopia has arrived!”
Me: “Welcome to Mapletree Borough.”

I find it ironic that this happens on the day I have spent reading Matched and listening to The Suburbs (this town’s so strange / they built it to change and we used to write / we used to write letters, we used to sign our names… but by the time we met / by the time we met, the times had already changed and pretty much all the songs make me think of dystopias like Matched and Fahrenheit 451 and oh wait the one we currently live in.)

In other news, I think one of the names I should have been named is May. Because:
1. It has the letter y in it and y is my favorite letter. Especially in lowercase form.
2. It’s classic.
3. People think of the month of May as springy and feminine and flowery and bright. But it also has the potential to be strong and unpredictable and stormy. Which I would like to think of as a metaphor for myself, as I think that due to my appearance (and, indeed, my generally pleasant disposition) people assume I am the flowery, feminine, spring-like sort. Which I often am. But I also like to think that I am also unpredictable. That I can create a storm. That my words can fork lightning (to quote Matched and Dylan Thomas).
4. The other meaning of May, besides the month. Not the “Mother May I” meaning, as in permission, but the may as in maybe, perhaps. Will she do this? Will she become that? She may. She may. She may not. I like the uncertainty, like no one is ever really sure which way I’m going, and neither am I. I’m never going to stop being a “perhaps” sort of person, I think. I think I’ll never be finished, polished, done, solidified. Static.
5. I’d like to always be changing, growing, springlike and new. All these things come to mind when I think of the word “May” and that’s why it’s the first name I’ve ever truly felt would really fit me. (There are a lot of names I like, just none that are mine.) (But May actually might be.) (May be.)

But obviously, as I was born in January, my parents would never have thought to name me that.
Sigh again.
Sometimes people need to think outside the box.


PS: Whoever caught all the (too many) Matched refrences in this post deserves appaluse. :)


2 thoughts on “birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name

  1. I’ve never read Matched, but now I may have to. Your thoughts are so poetic, and I love you. We’ve never met, so I hope that’s not too creepy, but you have to be one of my favorite poets.

  2. I hate those garbage cans. I’m glad I found someone else who is annoyed by them. They say, ‘you are all the same. tiny little things that we can manipulate and control.’


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