Thursday, February 15, 2007

busta rhyme


Stuck in boston. Our Civic just won't budge from her parking spot and only SUVs are making it up our steep driveway. This is the plane we were supposed to be on. We're going to try to fly stand-by tomorrow but they're already canceling flights for tomorrow. We're very bummed. I guess the novelty of cold weather has just worn off.

So, I think I will compose a cheesy poem about Uma. Let's see...

In London, in England, in nineteen-seven-nine,
Ten fingers and toes, black hair oh-so-fine.
Little Uma would prattle and toddle around,
The bells on her ankles a tinkling sound.
The family soon moved across the sea,
An Edmonton Oilers' fan, young Uma would be.
The girl was an artist, a painting protegee,
in Tamil and English, all words she could say.
When Uma was ten, her Mom began to wonder,
just what would it be like, to live down under?
A few years later, some things went bad,
So Uma moved to Taiwan to live with her Dad.
In Taipei she studied at an American school,
thought acting, pop culture, night markets were cool.
After four years of high school, again the time came,
she was now very used to the whole moving game.
To Oxy she came with a suitcase of hope,
She met Marie, Al and Anna, and Elizabeth Pope.
From economics to math, her studies would shift,
Until she finally realized she had to follow her gift.
On the stage was where Uma most felt at home,
From there, her talents so brightly shone.
Uma made friends, a family of sorts,
She'd party and study- all with these cohorts.
She graduated from college and burst on the scene,
LA was not ready for stage skills so keen.
Of exportation to Canada we all grew wary,
until brave Uma decided that Erik she'd marry.
We all were assembled at the Evidence Room,
a beautiful bride and a most handsome groom.
Not too long after, sent from above,
Uma would meet her life's truest love.
John wooed the girl until she couldn't resist,
Her fears and cynicism would soon cease and desist.
Now Uma and John are engaged to be wed,
what cute babies they'll make in the matrimonial bed!
But here's where the story takes a new turn,
in a sleeping girl's heart, Uma's fire does burn.
She lies in a coma, in her beloved New York,
her friends send her prayers and they're starting to work.
Today Uma followed many things with her eyes,
Her right side she moves, her hand and her thighs.
The doctors are hopeful and we sure are too,
There's no doubt she's just resting and will awaken anew.
We're waiting for you Uma; you just take your time,
if you don't I will pester you with more and more rhymme.
I miss you and love you and believe through and through,
that this world cannot lose a beauty like you.

4 comments:

chelle said...

If you missed planes more often you might just be well on your way to a profitable career as a poet E!

Thinking of all of you, very excited to hear of Uma doing even just a little better, and I hope you make it to SanFran for at least some of the festivities.

Much love from someone who understands how annoying snow can be

Jackie Hanks said...

Erica,
Your poem is beautiful...I don't know your friend Uma, but reading your poem brought tears to my eyes. She sounds wonderful and strong, passionate and full of life. She is in my thoughts....
Jackie

slucas said...

Uma's gonna freakin love that poem! Write some more of 'em!

Erik said...

I love this poem. I think I told you that in person, but I wanted to leave it as a comment too, because I freaking love it that much.