Vox Populi
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Barbara Hamby: Ode to My Younger Self
You were so beautiful and stupid though you thought
you were smart, and in a way you were,
because you loved poetry and Beethoven and apples
but why did it take you so long to learn to drink coffee
and eat breakfast? And those boyfriends? Oh, well, you were young
and experimenting with everything—drugs, love,
dancing at lesbian bars, meditating for a month at a Buddhist retreat,
taking the train from Kansas City to New York,
and staying with a friend whose Buddhist master told her
you had bad vibes and not to stay in the same apartment
with you, the same guy who gave her a special stone
to put in her vagina to cure the bad vibes there,
though she wasn’t the weirdest friend you had, because that
would have to be Marianne, who when I see her
around town now and she’s skinny, I know she’s not taking
her meds and that tiger stalk of hers will end up badly for me
in the jungle of her mind, so I try not to make eye contact,
because more than anything I don’t want to put on
my combat boots and wade into her psychodrama,
and when I see young women walking down the street
with that lost look in their eyes, I want to say to them,
Don’t despair, beautiful young woman. You’ll find yourself,
and one day you will wake up and realize you were always
that person. But maybe I’m wrong, because some women
marry a guy who looks like a prince and end up in the morgue
or Refuge House or hanging themselves from the chandelier
in their rented rooms. Time can be dangerous, so read
Middlemarch, young women, because George Eliot
can do your thinking for you until you get your own mind organized,
or Dostoevsky and Charlotte Brontë, who helped me navigate
the utter stupidity of my early twenties, and Keats and Garcia Lorca,
so in a sense, my younger self, you chose your friends well
though they were all in books, and Thomas Hardy
was one of your best boyfriends ever, wasn’t he,
because you spotted your Gabriel Oak from across the room
and were not pulled in by a Sgt. Frank Troy,
and Jane Austen, she taught you to hold out for what you
really wanted, and Virginia Woolf—she showed you how
to be a woman and a man in the same body through time,
and The Song of Solomon told you that love could be poetry,
so thank you for staying up all night reading and not going
out to bars, and I really appreciate that dance class
you took three days a week all through your thirties,
and after that the yoga. I’m feeling fit right now,
and I know I have you to thank, and those eleven years
as a vegetarian. You really took care of my heart.
From Holoholo (2021, Pittsburgh). Included in Vox Populi by permission of the author and publisher.
Copyright 2021 Barbara Hamby
Barbara Hamby was born in New Orleans and raised in Honolulu. She is the author of seven books of poems, most recently Holoholo (Pitt, 2021). She has also edited an anthology of poems, Seriously Funny (Georgia, 2009), with her husband David Kirby. She teaches at Florida State University where she is Distinguished University Scholar.
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This poem reminds me of the streaming thought, experience and observation of Walt Whitman. It measures its narrative in a long line length that flows without the inhibiting punctuation of enforced societal rules. Hamby exerts a sense of autonomy also present in Whitman’s “singing”, and it embodies his compassion. They both write ‘from the body’ that relies on a body of detailed observation. Rather than celebratory though, like Whitman, it is forgiving. Rather than anthropological, it is a self-reflective deposition of discovery. It is its own archeology. Rather than a mosaic of vocal word gymnastics like Whitman, Hamby hikes along upon a varied terrain, scrambling over the geology of life’s fault lines, towards a destination of the heart.
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What a skillful explication of the poem! Thank you, Mary.
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Walt Whitman is one of my gods. I go to him all the time for advice. Thanks for this response. Barbara
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I like the sound of Barbara Hamby’s poem Ode to My Younger Self, it is whimsical, airy and vivacious. It has the sound of a young woman finding her way. She is either an adolescent or in her early twenties.However, what I noticed about the poem because of its description of the activities of ” Younger self” is that it took place after great events in our laws, our politics and our culture gave woman more freedom, more rights, and more opportunities. The poet mentions that she was experimenting. She says of herself “you were youngand experimenting with everything—drugs, love,dancing at lesbian bars, meditating for a month at a Buddhist retreat…” She says she was also free to inquire about great/lofty thoughts. She read Dostoevsky, Charlotte Brontë, and such poets as Keats and Garcia Lorca. In fact this “Younger Self” was doing things which the majority of young women her age were not allowed to do in many past generations. It seems that in terms of historical time, she was just walking out and away from the very fixed, controlled and rigid upbringing of the majority of American women of past generations. But her “Younger self” was not that far away from these past generations. She was possibly one of the first to break ice in this new path. Unlike women in past generations very near to her time, she was not given a set of rules or a map, as perhaps was given to her mother, her grandmother, or great grandmother, which informed them what was expected of them to accomplish for the rest of their lives. In these past generations of women, there were very few women living in America, who were allowed by their culture and society to experiment and search for their mission in life, in the same way which Barbara’s “Younger Self” was doing.So, does the poet notice, that because of the new opportunities available to women at the time of her journey, that her younger self was a young woman who like many young women of her generation, were paving a new road of opportunities and experiences for women her age, and all woman both in her present and future? Thus, the Alice and Wonderland tone of the poem. Much work had/has to be done, also hoping these opportunities are not taken away. But such adventures were just not allowed for women, before young Barbara arrived. Most likely the young boys and men’s paths and opportunities, then and before, was well established and known to them. The experimentation had always been allowed for men and boys, and it was even encouraged in the present and for the future. It had always been this way. The poet includes a comment about her adventure, where she intuitively recognizes the new thing, she is doing for herself and for many women. She says,” I see young women walking down the street. With that lost look in their eyes, I want to say to them, Don’t despair, beautiful young woman. You’ll find yourself, and one day you will wake up and realize you were always that person.”Detailed Timeline – National Women’s History Alliance (nationalwomenshistoryalliance.org).
NATIONALWOMENSHISTORYALLIANCE.ORG
Home – National Women’s History Alliance
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Luz, thank you for this comment, rich with insight.
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Wow, you have gotten me thinking about how lucky I was in time. My twenties were crazy, but I was never more free. Thanks.
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E-v-e-r-y poem by Barbara Hamby delights me!
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I feel the same about you. Didn’t you say that the best thing about poetry is all the friends you make?
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Yes, Barbara, I did say that — and look at us gals!
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Is beauty wasted on the young? Who knows, but I’d certainly like the chance to prove it! 😂
Thanks, as always, for a warm, funny, and wise look back!
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Hahahah.
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The young need beauty more than we do. Also, there are all kinds of beauty. And all kinds of money. For me poetry money is the best.
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A pleasure!
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Yes, Margaret, I got to write one of those. We do have to love and forgive ourselves. Love all your poems. In this one I stopped especially at these lines:
“Time can be dangerous, so read
Middlemarch, young women, because George Eliot
can do your thinking for you until you get your own mind organized,
or Dostoevsky and Charlotte Brontë, who helped me navigate
the utter stupidity of my early twenties, and Keats and Garcia Lorca”
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Oh the roads that converge and the ones that turned off the pavement and got lost in the deserts and forests. Perhaps we all need to write such a poem, perhaps not with such skill, but it feels like the right time. Thank you. Perhaps this poem will get me back on the road.
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Yes, we all need to address our younger selves.
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This little energizer bunny just keeps chugging along spreading sunshine.
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Always such a treat to (re-) read anything by you, milady!
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Love back at you.
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