Recently, I have been thinking about vanity. Last time I flew, I remember checking myself out while the flight was boarding, making sure my hair was properly parted. Suddenly, a line from a Gwendolyn Brooks poem popped into my head: "We real cool." I slicked my hair to the side and thought, "I'm real cool," and the muse struck...
To understand my poem, you should first read Brook's poem, "We real cool." The poem is a sarcastic take on the thought process behind youngsters who choose to drop out of school and pursue a life of rebellion. The poem's starting air is confident but its end sobering, recognizing that the youngsters will likely, "die soon." When reading the poem, I like to think of an old black woman reading it to me in a thick African American Vernacular accent; it gives is a jazzy feel.
We Real Cool
The Pool Players.
Seven at the Golden Shovel.
We real cool. We
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
My poem is a sarcastic take on my own vanity. Like Brooks' poem, my poem starts out in an almost confident air but ends with the sobering truth of my near graduation, through which I will enter into a much different phase of life than the one I am currently in: I am a cool young college student now, but in a year I will be faced with bills and other responsibilities that the college student is temporarily removed from. For this poem, imagine myself reading it to you, maybe even with a wanna-be Ebonics accent (perhaps this adds to the sarcastic vanity behind it all). Enjoy.
I’m Real Cool
For Gwendolyn Brooks
Sitting on an Airplane,
Checking Myself Out.
I’m real cool. I’m
Still’n school. I
Work late. I
Write pāps. I
Sing hymns. I
Think big. I
Climb dunes. I
Grad. Soon.
Tomorrow we fly from Istanbul to Jordan, continuing our Middle Eastern excursion with some awesome outdoor adventures: visiting Petra, riding camels, walking through the dessert, hiking mountains, swimming in the sea, and maybe even snorkeling. I'm stoked.
Peace,
Elliot
