My journey making a new friend, my struggle to balance friendship and a brotherly bond. These are my invaluable experiences. This blog is intended to organize my feelings as I begin my friendship with my new little, who I will call Tommy for the purpose of this blog.

My friend gave me a jar to put on my shelf where I could place my most valued ideas. I should just screw off the top and there in I would plop all of my thoughts. They would cascade into this jar of mine, whirling and spinning around.

But before I could twist off this top to plop my very own opinions and ideas, I had to listen to my friend’s thoughtless thoughts. For his are grossly graver than any wishes of miniscule me. Twist went the lid and out he let slid all what could have been my precious impressions and aims. Then all that I knew was what he put into my jar of a friend’s ideas.

On my shelf it now sits with the crumbling cork covering what I could never put in. My abandoned eyes gaze with an unworried head haze fixed on this sated jar. Shallow and silly it seems nay knowing ones own dreams. I’m watching others’ dreams spinning and twirling on my shelf in a jar.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

A new poem

Haven't posted in a while. BBBS is slowing down as summer is approaching. My first few months with Tommy were action packed and eye opening. Tommy and I plan on becoming "full-fledged" big-little for next semester. I am excited and nervous. He is extremely antsy and eager for the next step of the program. This semester has been a terrific period of self-reflection. Although I do not have all the answers to my questions, I have re prioritized my life to an extent and am happy. One of my priorities is expressed in this poem.

Growing Pains
by Ben Wilinsky

my father was a giant
and I was in a rocket
launched from his hands
I jettisoned across the water.

and he’s not so big, now
I’m almost to his chin
can score a couple
at the ping pong table

he gets smaller
too big now to wear his clothes
big enough to use his shaving cream though
never too big for his jokes and

my pants are bigger now
feet, my hands, my head too
I jettison past him

I still get lost in his huge hugs though
lost in his stories too

my heart squirms
it’s funny looking down
when looking up to someone.
my father
my giant

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