Monday, May 8, 2017

Morgan's poem 2017




Morgan won first place in the high school category at the 2017 West Roxbury Library poetry contest.  The theme this year was Alone/Together.  Here is her poem: 






Guilt


I miss you.

I remember how we met.
Science class, sixth grade.
I wanted to talk to you because you were sitting by yourself
and I felt bad.
We switched cheap romance novels back and forth
Crying at the sad parts
And laughing at the terrible ones.

I remember how we drifted apart and then closer together.
We shared no classes.
We still laughed about sixth grade crushes,
Angrily wondering what had happened.
Why couldn’t they love us back?
You told me a secret and I thought I understood.
I didn’t.

I remember the end of us, because you wanted us to be more than that.
You texted me at eight in the morning after my fourteenth birthday party.
I like you
That’s the thing
I was. . . disgusted.

I couldn’t handle it.

I stopped talking to you.

No more nostalgic hour-long text conversations.
No more gossiping about crushes.
I mean--I was yours.
What was there to talk about?

Then I stopped looking at you.

Avoiding you at the bus stop,
Sitting by myself instead of with you.
Staring out the window instead of meeting your gaze.

Then I stopped thinking about you.
It was easier that way.
For both of us.

One morning I saw you in the hallway.
Dressed differently.
New posture, new hairstyle, new friends.

And I noticed you were happy.

You have your friends, your problems, your life.

I have mine.

It’s over.

I miss you.

Why did I panic? How could I have?
You wanted me to love you--and I do.
Just not the way I should.

I miss you.

How can I tell you that?
It would only hurt you more.

I tried to reach out

But we’ve both changed too much.

I want a friendship that cannot exist any longer.

I miss you--but I miss the you that I knew.

Not the you that avoids my gaze in the hallway.

But can I blame you?

I’m sorry.

I miss you.





Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Bad Moms -- bad writers

I hadn't planned to see Bad Moms, the new comedy about . . . bad moms.  In general, anything about the supposed cliquey suburban mom culture that I have thankfully escaped (if it exists) by not living in the suburbs either stresses me out or pisses me off.  But a friend had seen the movie and said it was funny, I'm on the beach vacationing (by myself!),yesterday evening it rained, and the only other movies showing at the nearby theater are either animated, sequels, thrillers, or some combination of them all.  Plus, who doesn't love Christina Applegate?
 
I had heard the movie was kind of a chick power flick.  It wasn't.  Quite the contrary, it was distressingly regressive.
 
Here are some of the problems with the movie, in no particular order:  SPOILERS AHEAD!
 
1.  Mila Kunis's daughter, who is 12, is worried that she will not get into an Ivy League school if she isn't a starter on her soccer team.  Her mother tut tuts.  "You're only 12."  Meanwhile, Kunis's son, more or less the same age, is a total slacker.  His mom does his homework.  He gets D's on tests.  He doesn't participate in any extracurricular activities.
 
12 is a bit young to worry about college.  But not all that young if you want to go to an elite private school.  A kid whose main extracurricular is being a member of a soccer team, and who also takes Chinese once a week, is most likely not getting into an Ivy.  It doesn't matter what gender the kid is.  But, suppose the kid is a girl, and she has great grades and good test scores.  What college will she go to?  It's not all that unlikely that she'll get into the same colleges as her slacker brother.  Why?  Because of the well-documented phenomenon of affirmative action for male applicants at elite colleges, that trickles down to all higher education.  Starting at the Ivies, the boy applicants are, as a group, simply not as competitive as the girls.  If there were gender-blind admissions then the Ivies would quickly have a disproportionately female student body.  So the high school boys who sit around and play computer games while their female friends  are leading clubs, doing volunteer work, and generally exhausting themselves get a leg up. 
 
(I went to an Ivy League school.  I remember once helping a male friend with his resume.  He showed me his draft and I said, "It looks like you haven't really done anything."  His response was, "Of course not. Who at our age has?"  Well, me and pretty much all of our female classmates.)
 
In the movie, Kunis is a Bad Mom because her daughter feels pressure to perform.   But if her daughter wants to go to an elite school, that presssure is not a feeling, it is a reality. 
 
2.  The movie denigrates teachers and school administrators.  Speaking of the Ivies, there's this throwaway line from Kunis' daughter:  "If I can't get into an Ivy, I might just as well be a teacher." 
 
My husband went to an Ivy, where he got his teaching certificate.  Then he taught public school for a year. One year.  Because it was too hard for him.  My daughter aspires to go to an Ivy, and she wants to be a teacher.  Screw you, Kunis' daughter.
 
3.  All the dads in the movie suck.  Kunis and her husband split up, and he moves out of the family home.  A while later he begs to get back together, because he misses the kids.  Why?  He's divorcing his wife,  not his children.  Why doesn't he see his kids after e has moved out?  What's wrong with him? 
 
The only dad that doesn't suck is Kunis' love interest.  He's a widower, we're told, so he does the mom work like dropping his kids off at school.  But . . . he doesn't make anything for the bake sale that is one of the central conflicts of the movie.  Why not?  All the moms do.  What's wrong with him?  Why does he get to go to a bar where he runs into Kunis?  Who's taking care of his kids? 
 
Also, the love interest has exactly one character trait:  He has washboard abs.  How? Kunis only gets to go to the gym once a week, and she's got her kids' father in the picture.  Why does the boyfriend, who is a single parent, manage to work out enough to be totally hot?  (Kunis is too, of course, but that's the actor, not the character.)
 
4.  When Kristen Bell's character gets empowered and yells at her husband for not helping more with the kids, the worst thing she can call him is "pussy."  All bad parents are automatically female.
 
5.  Mila Kunis got pregnant in college.  Now she essentially runs a huge Starbucks-like corporation.  What kind of drive was required to get her there in twelve years, while raising two kids with only minimal help?  Did she get her MBA?  What is the backstory there?  If she's so awesome, why can't she fire her secretary who comes to work hungover and high?
 
6.  The work that PTA's do is depicted as stupid and worthless.  This is maddening.  Parent leaders at my kids' schools, and schools all over my city, put in countless hours to improve the schools.  Fundraising includes bake sales, auctions, candy sales, collecting pennies . . .  The parents at my kids' elementary school raise tens of thousands of dollars each year through their hard work. That money fuds field trips, books for classrooms, improvements to the physical plant.  Sure, Mila, cut out the bake sales. But  don't come crying to me when your third grader doesn't get to go to Plimouth Plantation for a field trip.
 
7.  Major innovations in schools are depicted as stupid and worthless.  Applegate's character suggests that the school go to a year-round model.  She suggests it because she is power-mad and crazy.  But lots of schools consider that model. Why?  Because it is well-documented that kids who do not get enrichment activities over the summer -- generally, low-income kids -- lose more ground than kids who do and fall further behind.  I don't want a year-round model, but it's not stupid. 
 
8.  The major takeaway from the movie is that moms are, in fact, bad.  If you do too much for your kids you're bad. If you don't do enough for them, you're bad.  If you want to be a good mom, you must find that extraordinarily narrow sweet spot in the middle and not deviate by an inch.   
 
Kunis starts off as a bad mom because she does too much for her kids.  She steps back, the kids (well, her son) steps up, and now she's a good mom.
 
Bell is a bad mom because she lets her husband get away with not doing enough for the kids.  She steps up, he steps up, now she's a good mom.
 
Kathryn Hahn is a bad mom because she doesn't do enough for her son.  So she starts making him healthy lunches that they both hate and promises to go to his next baseball game even though it will make her miserable.  Now she's a good mom.
 
Gag me.
 
9.  Kunis' son teaches himself to cook.  Miraculously he also teaches himself to clean the kitchen so well that nobody even knows that he has been cooking.  This is stupid.
 
(It's also reminiscent of an earlier and better  Christina Applegate movie, Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead. In a very funny montage in that movie the teenage brother of Applegate's character learns to cook by watching cooking shows on tv.  Where's the backstory for Kunis' son in this movie?)
 
 
 
 
 
 

Monday, May 2, 2016

My poem

                    Narcissus


                        by


                  Nina Kallen


When Narcissus looks at the shallow pool,
What does he see?  His own winsome image?
Or passed, to past: Rivergod father, cruel,
Gurgling laughter rippling from his visage?


"Daddy's only joking!"  Cephissus forced
His son beneath the cold water, holding
Him down.  Narcissus broke away.  Air coursed
Through his lungs.  He gasped, crying, consoling


Himself that someday he could leave.  A man,
Or god, full-grown, follows his own path.  When
He says goodbye, he will be free.  He can
Live life on land, make his own choices, then.


Now he is grown, safe, dry, independent.
But at edge of water, land has ended. 

Morgan's poem


Allusion

She sits

on the bench

too close to him.

 

He turns to see

a girl,

reading a book.

Pretty hair.

Pretty face.

Generous figure.

 

She feels his eyes on her

and looks away.

After a moment

she finds the courage

to meet his gaze,

but he’s already faded away

staring into the empty space

before him.

 

She watches him watch nothing.

Skinny.

Dreaming eyes.
A nice smile.

 

He looks back at her.

Suddenly insecure again,

she turns back to her book, Fahrenheit 451.

How like a mirror, her face.

 Impossible; for how many people did you know

who refracted your own light to you?

Words tumble over words.

Nothing makes sense.

She pulls out her phone instead,

searching for simplicity,

and catches sight of her reflection in the screen.

 

Fat--

Three chins from this angle.

Blotchy pink cheeks.

 

He’d never want to be with someone

like her.

 

Nobody would.

 

He was so lucky

to be skinny

and good-looking.

 

He watches his marred reflection

in a puddle on the sidewalk.

skin and bones.

too pale,

even portrayed in water.

 

The girl next to him

is so lucky.

She’s got a figure and rosy cheeks.

 

Nobody would ever want him.

How could they?

 

They spend so long

criticizing their reflections

that they never bother to say hello

and ignore the open window

of a new friendship

and instead

hate

themselves.

 

 

Sunday, April 26, 2015

My poem from last year

Last year I won first place in the adult category at the West Roxbury Library poetry contest.  The them was unexpected. 




SOULMATES


 


by


 


Nina Kallen



The first, tangy taste of the apple


 


I didn’t expect to like it.


 


I didn’t expect you to be such a pushover,


A whiner, a hider


 


Although Lilith tried to warn me.


 


I didn’t expect to like Lilith.


 


The snake liked her.


 


I didn’t expect to like the snake.


 


The snake said it wasn’t fair he only got to see her


Every other weekend


And on holidays that hadn’t been invented yet. 


 


I wished he would spend more time with her


And give you and me more time


Alone in paradise. 


 


But Lilith was off trying to find herself in the world


While I was trying to find myself in you.


 


I worried that I got your rib


But not your heart.


 


 


You swore that Lilith wasn’t made out of that,


Wasn’t made out of you at all,


Was just mud as far as you were concerned.


 


I couldn’t see inside you anymore.


 


I wanted to know,


To really know.


 


And the snake was bored


And was always causing trouble


--that was just his way--


And the apple was there


 


And I wanted to know.


 


I thought my head had split open


Like your rib cage,


Except instead of a piece of me being ripped out


The universe was being shoved in.


 


A lot of it faded after that brief flash.


But for a moment I saw it all.


 


Planets,


This planet,


Oceans,


The crawling things on the beaches,


Creatures faded,


And not yet born,


Clay tinted red,


And in the awful mix,


You, and Lilith.


 


I saw


You never really liked her,


You sniveling thing. 


 


 


 


I half hoped you wouldn’t be tempted,


And I would bring the apple to her


And she would show me more --


The whole world she had traveled.


 


The snake said it’s surprising how I settled.


 


I miss him.


 


But he got what he wanted.


He’s off with Lilith now. 


 


And there’s you and me in our


McMansion as big as a world,


And the kids are always killing each other,


And you toil and I labor.


 


It’s unexpected that I like it.


 


Most days.


 


Creation.


 


You. 


 

My poem


I won an honorable mention for the adult category at the West Roxbury Library poetry contest.  The theme this year is "Missing pieces."  Here's my poem (although I can't get the spacing right in the blog). 




MISSING PIECES

 

Nina Kallen



 

                       Nadia
 
I did not always dream about this day.
 
If I had, I would have known,
My mother was supposed to help me choose A dress
And the snotty lady on Newbury Street Would not have sneered at me.
Ha!
I showed her when she tried to rip me off.
Me!
I think I made her cry.
 
I would have known
Weddings are supposed to be catered.
You’re supposed to find a rabbi
Who knows what he’s doing.
Your venue (“venue” -- I snort)
Should have bathrooms,
Not portapotties.
 
Nevertheless:
 
It was a fine June day
Under a white tent.
Food from the potluck
Overflowed the tables.
The rabbi showed up.
Guests snuck into the house
To use the bathroom.
 
Sometimes ignorance
Is a mean sort of wisdom.
Sometimes you grasp in the dark
And children emerge.
Sometimes you are doing your damnedest
Just to get through the day
And you find you are living your own life
In your own way
 
And it is good enough.
                 Aidan
 
I first saw you through a window.
I told a friend I would marry you.
 
It was a perfect day.
You helped me find a suit.
I still have it.
Why would I need more than one?
 
We got married on a farm.
They planted flowers for us. 
The tent company was amazing.
Some people I know set up the food.
My friend performed the ceremony.
 
The hurricane came during our honeymoon.
At the last minute we found a pink hotel
To keep us safe.
 
I never really understand
Your looks of despair,
Of desperation,
Of disdain.
 
Why don’t you give me more credit?
 
I work hard,
As hard as can be expected.
It is not easy having kids,
And a job,
And you. 
 
I am proud of my life’s work.
The kids, the job,
And you.
 
And, although hurricanes come,
I am living my own life
In my own way
 
And it is good enough.

Maia's poem

Maia won first place for her age group in the West Roxbury Library poetry contest.  The theme of the contest this year is "Missing Pieces."  This is her poem: 




HOPE


 


by


 


Maia
 


 


 


There’s something missing in my heart.


Something small?


No . . .


Something big.


What is it?


A pushing pulling laughing piece


That I cannot find


Mocking me, screaming to try harder.


I try.


But still


It hides


Like it wants me


To


Feel


Pain


Worse than I already do.


Come out,


I call


But it won’t


Budge.


Why?


When you hope, things can go wrong.


Isn’t hope supposed to be happy


Strong and caring?


I hope for hope and happiness, but . . .


A piece


Of hope


Lies beneath me.