In the book, Ruby is turning 12 on April 12 (her golden birthday). Her main ambition, though she doesn't quite know it yet, is to become a poet, and one of the things Ruby likes best is making up poetry.
Growing up in Greenwich Village, New York in the 1950s, Ruby is mostly aware of the Beat Generation poets around her, and that's the kind of poetry she tends to write. In order to write Ruby's poems, I had to read a lot of Beat poets, and then reimagine them so they were believably being written by an eleven-year-old on the cusp of turning twelve.
It was really one of the most fun assignments I'd ever given myself.
"Sweet fleet beat of the street
Rising heat
From the white of the sidewalk
And the conga sound of the
Bonga bonga bongos
BEAT BEAT BEAT
"Every spring
They sprout like toadstools
In the key of heat."
In fact, I was remembering how people all over the streets in Brooklyn (where I used to live) pulled out their instruments (including congas) every spring and that's how you'd know winter was over. I can't believe things would have changed all that much from Ruby's time in 1958. I think musicians need to play and the street acoustics can be so perfect when it gets warmer.
Writing Ruby's poetry has made me think about all sorts of poets through the ages and wanting to listen and quote more poetry, too. Yesterday I posted a photo of a goose standing on the edge of a lake around here and it made me think of Walt Whitman's poem:
"The untold want by life and land ne'er granted,
Now voyager sail thou forth to seek and find."
Just two lines that speak volumes about wanting more out of life than you ever received. Which makes it a perfect poem for Now, Voyager-- a spectacular Bette Davis film? (Do not ask me who she was, please. Just google her).
These are just two poems I wanted to celebrate in April. I'll try to think of a few more next week! Now it's your turn to send me some.
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