Umbly Yours

Last night I got to read and listen to a couple of poems written by Art Honeyman, former Portland State professor and, before that, student. Honeyman, a prolific writer with a sharp sense of humor, often drew upon his experience with cerebral palsy for inspiration. I want to post the first poem from his book “Umbly Yours: Random Poems & Cover Design”. His clever manipulation of language and unique—and positive—perspective, I believe, are well worth sharing with all of you. So, without further delay:

b/gr/m/st/UMBLING

my way through existence

but I have not bit the dust

and I am umbly grateful

umbilical cord acting up I was born

into palsied chaos and have danced

to a different step ever since

and though I shake and slobber

and stutter my way through life

occasionally missing the right turn

my skull on even harder objects

and sometimes narrowly escape

injury caused by collision of me

and another faster traveling body

like a train or other motor vehicle

again reminding me of my ultimate

vulnerability in the game of life

strengthening my determination

to keep on going until the last play

even if I cannot easily pronounce

the h letter and call myself oneyman

or tell bible thumpers to go to ell

for my crippled drooling mouth

are for me interesting and umbling.

In this poem, Honeyman cleverly plays on his struggle to pronounce the “h” sound to create “umble”, which not only serves as a play on words and an assonantic device (for example, the sound relation between “umble” and “umbilical”), but also as a way of living. Honeyman transforms “humble” into “umble”, and eventually “umbling”, which is how he moves through his life. In turn, his “umbling” is what makes him humble. Honeyman's intricate wordsmithing not only displays the wonderful power of language as a mode of expression, but also shows, conversely, how his struggle to communicate verbally reflects the overall complexity of umbling: he bumbles, grumbles, mumbles, stumbles his way through existence in the same way he bumbles, mumbles, and stumbles his way through a sentence.

Okay, I'm finished with my English major geek-out moment. (Whew!) But seriously, I think this poem is very telling of the nature of living with a disability. Tell me if I'm wrong. I don't personally know what it's like to have a disability, but I can say that I feel this poem gives members of the able-bodied community insight into what it might be like to have a physical disability that many people don't understand. Plus, if it weren't obvious already, I believe this is a fantastically crafted poem written by someone who, perhaps ironically, has strong control of the English language.

What do you guys think of this poem? Did any of you know Art personally? I know MHCK's Ann Fullerton mentioned knowing him...Anyone else? I'd love to hear your stories since I never got the opportunity to meet him.

Also, if you weren't able to attend Susan Schweik's talk about the Ugly Laws, you can access a transcript of it here.