Watch This Guy Misspell 'Father' At A Spelling Bee For A Beautiful Reason

In what started as a pleasant dream, this poet vanquished words like “duodenum” with ease.

At 30 seconds, however, a six-letter word really gets him going.

About:

ORIGINAL: By the excellent people at Stillmotion. And you really need to check out the poet Marshall Davis Jones. His work blows my mind. He also provided us the text version of this poem:

last night

I had the most interesting dream.

in it

I was six years old

in a national spelling bee.

genius

complex words….

duodenum….

serendipity.....

floccinaucinihilipilification

.

up until the final round

one word between me and victory

the spell master clears his throat

young man your word is father

the crowd began to chatter amongst themselves

seemingly displeased

at the simplicity of this final word

I searched for those eyes

those eyes that say

"every things going to be ok. just do it"

I dazed off

young man!

your word is father

I stood up straight, licked my lips and began

father, m-o-t-h-e-r, father…

the spell master looks at me,

down at his flash card,

back up at me

"sorry but you are incorrect"

I don't understand

my fathers sitting right in the audience

"excuse me?'

"I am sorry son but you are incorrect"

well then

you can save your sorry apologies

because you must mean "in-correct"

as in within the parameters of being right.

let me explain something to you

cuz obviously you aint grow up

where poppas are rolling stones

down the hills of women's backsides

and when he's gone

all he's left us

was alone

where minstrel men stroll around on bikes

while fathers balanced their menstrual,

2 jobs,

2 kids

and a life

on a unicycle

and it looks something like this:

breastfeeding on one arm

phone on the shoulder

cooking with the other arm

cleaning with one leg

tying sneakers with their teeth

young fathers

who make mistakes

because we are not all perfect

but the one mistake they never make

is abandoning their seeds

you see fathers

are master gardeners

they tend to every leaf

removing the weeds

placing us in the windows of opportunity

so that we can lean towards the sun

and never forget that the sky is the limit

planting kisses on our cheeks

hugs on our backs

growing their love on us

the best way they know how

like my father

my father, sacrificed owning nothing,

that I may have everything

my father, walked a daily nightmare

so that I may live out my dreams

my father watered me

with blood sweat and tears

so that I may be ripe

for the harvest

and I hope that one day

I can grow up to be as great a father

as she was for me

you did not ask me spell deadbeat sir...

but if you want dead beat here it is:

f-a-t-h-e-r, d-a-d, d-a-d-d-y, p-o-p

p-o-p-s, if you want the slang

you asked me to spell father

and father is,

always has been

and always will be spelled

m-o-t-h-e-r

so get your encyclopedias,

show me your flash cards

open your dictionary

cuz what webster says

means nothing around here

around here,

my father is sitting right there...

and I love her.

Topics:

Next bit of Upworthiness:

Flash Video Embed

This video is not supported by your device. Continue browsing to find other stuff you'll love!

Hi there, internet friend. We need to talk. You're using a painfully old web browser, and frankly, it's getting a little weird. It's not safe, and we want the best for you. We think it's time to upgrade.

Download Google Chrome, and try it for a week. Don't think about it, just do it. You'll thank us later.