War Poetry

I have been very intrigued by the war poems that we have read in class this past week. I have written my final poetry on the muse nature. After learning about war poetry, part of me wished I had procrastinated the assignment, so I could have switched my topic! However, I still like the one I chose, because I had picked it so I could use two of my favorite poets: Emily Dickinson and Sylvia Plath.

I mentioned, in Friday's class, I political song by System of a Down and thought that I would post the lyrics on here:


You


WHY THEY ALWAYS SEND THE POOR?

Barbarisms by Barbaras, With pointed heels.
Victorious, victorieas, kneel.
For brand new spankin deals
Marching forward hypocritic
and hypnotic computers.`
You depend on our protection,
Yet you feed us lies from the table cloth.

Lalalalala...ouu...

Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time.
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine.

kneeling roses disappearing,
into Moses’ dry mouth,
breaking into Fort Knox,
stealing our intentions,
Hangars sitting dripped in oil,
Crying FREEDOM!

Handed to obsoletion,
Still you feed us lies from the table cloth.

Lalalalala...ouu...

Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time.
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine.
Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time.
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine.

Blast off, its Party time,
And we don't live in a facist nation
Blast off, its party time,
And where the fuck are you?

Where the fuck are you?
Where the fuck are you?

Why don’t presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why don’t presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
WHY DO THEY ALWAYS SEND THE POOR?

Kneeling roses disappearing,
into Moses’ dry mouth,
breaking into Fort Knox,
stealing our intentions,
Hangars sitting dripped in oil,
Crying FREEDOM!

Handed to obsoletion,
Still you feed us lies from the tablecloth.


Lalalalala...ouu...

Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time.
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine.
Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time.
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sun...
Where the fuck are you!
Where the fuck are you!

Why don’t presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why don’t presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor? 
Why do they always send the poor? 
Why do they always send the poor?
Why, do, they always send the poor?
Why, do, they always send the poor?
Why, do, they always send the poor?
They always send the poor 
They always send the poor

Places Poem

Side by Side

Soft cloth hugs my waist and

Hangs loose down my summer legs

Kissing them as I sprint through the

Fresh green grass that needs to be cut

Grass and weeds hug my feet

Trying to stop me, to

Make me be one with the night and

Feel the midnight air.

I don’t let it stop me.

We run with a laugh and a smile

Hearing him catching up

Laughing louder

Reaching the gate, coming to a stop

It opens up to us

Allowing us to the river.

An entrance of

Him going left, me going right

He sits on the break wall, I stand on the stairs

His feet dangle above the surface, mine down under

With no grip on the algae infested cement

Slipping down, my waist now submerged

Soft cloth now hangs heavy and cold

A blanket he brought replaces them.

Holding the blanket above my knees

I walk and dance in the water to his

Improvised guitar riffs, us both

Staring up at the stars and to the

Left where the city glows and the

Niagara Falls lets out its sigh.

The stars smile back at us.

-----------------------------------

Also, I am excited for class tomorrow and would love to talk to you about that literary magazine you talked to me about at our meeting. I hope that there is room so that I have the chance to take part in it! If not, I understand. I just want you to know that I am very interested.

Emily Dickinson's use of dashes

Dickinson uses the dash to fragment language and to cause unrelated words to rush together; she qualifies conventional language with her own different strains; and she confounds editorial attempts to reduce her "dashed off " jottings to a "final" version. Not only does she draw lines through her own drafts but also through the linguistic conventions of her society, and her challenges to God are euphemistic imprecations against conventional religion. Even the allusion to the Morse alphabet is not entirely irrelevant: through her unconventional use of punctuation, particularly the dash, Dickinson creates a poetry whose interpretation becomes a process of decoding the way each fragment signals meaning.

Dickinson's transition from a dominant use of the exclamation mark to a preference for the dash accompanied her shift from ejaculatory poems, which seem outcries aimed with considerable dramatic effect at God or others, to poems where the energies exist more in the relationships between words and between the poet and her words. In this intensely prolific period, Dickinson's excessive use of dashes has been interpreted variously as the result of great stress and intense emotion, as the indication of a mental breakdown, and as a mere idiosyncratic, female habit. Though these speculations are all subject to debate, it is clear that in the early 1860s Dickinson conducted her most intense exploration of language and used punctuation to disrupt conventional linguistic relations, whether in an attempt to express inexpressible psychological states or purely to vivify language.

http://www.english.illinois.edu/maps/poets/a_f/dickinson/dash.htm

Renshi-Renku

This was my Renku from class today:

Tree branches rustle
Wind whistles through the ghost town
Everyone is gone

Starlight echoes through the trees
In an empty open night

The ghost of my past
Travels with wind.Oh, oh
Look behind you, sir

All of my failed hopes and dreams
Everything I should have done

And things that I did
I'll keep it hidden away
'Til my voice is heard

Heard by the people I love
Those who matter most to me

I dream of a day
The day to see my friends 'gain
Soon that day will come

For now I am alone still
but again my friends will come

The Ghazal of What Hurt

by Peter Cole
(source: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/20686)

Pain froze you, for years—and fear—leaving scars. But now, as though miraculously, it seems, here you are walking easily across the ground, and into town as though you were floating on air, which in part you are, or riding a wave of what feels like the world's good will— though helped along by something foreign and older than you are and yet much younger too, inside you, and so palpable an X-ray, you're sure, would show it, within the body you are, not all that far beneath the skin, and even in some bones. Making you wonder: Are you what you are— with all that isn't actually you having flowed through and settled in you, and made you what you are? The pain was never replaced, nor was it quite erased. It's memory now—so you know just how lucky you are. You didn't always. Were you then? And where's the fear? Inside your words, like an engine? The car you are?! Face it, friend, you most exist when you're driven away, or on—by forms and forces greater than you are.

Haiku's

We moved on to a new unit: Haiku's. I can honestly say that I am going to miss slam poetry, but I know that I will continue to search for it online and attempting to write it. I have one "slam poem" so far, but it is my first one ever, so I need to keep practicing.
Friday and today (Monday) we wrote our own haiku's:

Tree branches rustle.
Wind whistles through the debris.
Everyone is gone.
--------------------------------
Small silver bullets
Dart away through the water.
Shark remains hungry.
--------------------------------

The second haiku is based on a picture of hundreds of little fish swimming around a shark.
I think haiku's are easy to write. The challenging part is intertwining meaning in with just three lines of 5-7-5. I find the first haiku that I wrote, much stronger than the second.

Out of all of the structures of poems we have learned these past two classes (haiku, tanka, choka, ghazal) the haiku is my favorite. However, none of these have yet made me grow a strong liking or appeal to them. It is possible that more time focused on them in class will change that!

Slam Poetry!

On my free time, I have been searching through videos of slam poetry. I thought I would post one of my favorites that I came across.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6wJl37N9C0

"Underwear" -Lawrence Ferlinghetti

I didn’t get much sleep last night  thinking about underwear  Have you ever stopped to consider  underwear in the abstract  When you really dig into it  some shocking problems are raised  Underwear is something we all have to deal with  Everyone wears some kind of underwear  Even Indians wear underwear  Even Cubans wear underwear The Pope wears underwear I hope  The Governor of Louisiana wears underwear I saw him on TV  He must have had tight underwear  He squirmed a lot  Underwear can really get you in a bind  You have seen the underwear ads for men and women  so alike but so different  Women’s underwear holds things up  Men’s underwear holds things down  Underwear is one thing  men and women do have in common  Underwear is all we have between us  You have seen the three-color pictures  with crotches encircled  to show the areas of extra strength  with three-way stretch  promising full freedom of action  Don’t be deceived  It’s all based on the two-party system  which doesn’t allow much freedom of choice  the way things are set up  America in its Underwear  struggles thru the night  Underwear controls everything in the end  Take foundation garments for instance  They are really fascist forms  of underground government  making people believe  something but the truth  telling you what you can of can’t do  Did you ever try to get around a girdle Perhaps Non-Violent Action  is the only answer  Did Gandhi wear a girdle?  Did Lady Macbeth wear a girdle?  Was that why Macbeth murdered sleep? And the spot she was always rubbing - Was it really her underwear? Modern anglosaxon ladies must have huge guilt complexes always washing and washing and washing Out damned spot Underwear with spots very suspicious Underwear with bulges very shocking Underwear on clothesline a great flag of freedom Someone has escaped his Underwear May be naked somewhere Help! But don’t worry Everybody’s still hung up in it There won’t be no real revolution And poetry still the underwear of the soul And underwear still covering a multitude of faults  in the geological sense - strange sedimentary stones, inscrutable cracks!  If I were you I’d keep aside  an oversize pair of winter underwear  Do not go naked into that good night  And in the meantime  keep calm and warm and dry  No use stirring ourselves up prematurely  ‘over Nothing’ Move forward with dignity  hand in vest  Don’t get emotional  And death shall have no dominion  There’s plenty of time my darling  Are we not still young and easy?

Thomas Sayers Ellis

I attended Ellis' poetry reading Monday and must say that I was disappointed. I was really impressed and entertained by the videos you showed us in class Monday. I went to the reading expecting what I had seen in the National Poetry Slam videos but left the reading let down. I will give him credit for the risk he takes with his writing and how it is definitely unique, but his style did not take a liking to me. Honestly, I found the performance more of an annoyance. There were many times where I was not even able to understand what he was saying, therefore I could not even grasp the principle of his words. There were a few times where I was able to pick out a few lines, and some were pretty powerful. Overall, his work seemed to choppy with an inconsistent flow of thoughts and rhythm. It did not appeal to me at all.
If I had to choose a favorite, or a few, a couple that stood out to me was the one where he talked of how he played percussion and his 'poetry line' then spoke a poem based on that in mind. Another was "About Time." Both are in his new book, "Skin Ink."
Although I was thoroughly disappointed by this poet, I still am glad I went, believe it or not. I like how this course is exposing me to so many different styles of poetry and writers. I find it really interesting and I am learning so much. I have noticed that I am loving poetry even more than I did when I enrolled into this course! By the way, I really am hoping that we are able to put together a course which will allow us to concentrate on the study of poetry from another country with the opportunity available for us to travel there as well. That would expose even deeper into a subject in which I have such a growing passion for.
I can say with great sincerity, that I am looking forward to future poetry reading held on campus.

Best Class Ever.

Today, we talked of how the free verse structure in poetry is much more common in the present day poetry. It is a more modern form of structure and was introduced by Walt Whitman. I am very thankful for this man and for his courage to actually go through with publishing his free verse poetry. Why am I thankful? Because it's probably my favorite structure of poetry. To me, the lack of rhyme, meter, and pattern, leaves the poem as just dry emotion, which is very appealing to me. When rhyme is added in, it's to "sing-songy" for me, and it doesn't seem as real. It seems as if things are more of a lie or dramatized just so it fits within a certain structure and set of guidelines and rules. With free verse, you make your poem whatever you want it to be. That's how poetry should be. It should be the expression of ones emotions and thoughts in whichever way pleases the writer most. That's what I see free verse as.
You read us a number of your poems today from your book, "Mother Love". I honestly loved them all. And I promise I am not just saying this to be a suck-up and hope for an A in your class. I was really drawn to your writing and just got done searching for your book on Amazon.com. However, the book, "The House on Beartown Road" came up in my search. Did you write that too? If so, I am buying it! But, I really would love to own a copy of "Mother Love". (Please excuse any typos, or grammatical errors. I don't know if your works should be in italics, underlined or in quotations. I just took a guess.)
I had an awesome time in class today and this is definitely my favorite lesson so far. I would love for you to read more of your work in our class, or even have a separate poetry reading, or both! I hope, that as time passes, I am able to write as well and with as much heart-felt emotion as you are able to.
Thank you so much for sharing your poems with the class today.

Meters!!

In previous classes, we have discussed the variations of characteristics that a poem can have in order to set it apart from the rest. Every poem is unique due to the different qualities they hold.
We talked about how there is a great deal of imagery, symbolism, metaphor, simile, and much more used in poems in order for it to express a certain emotion or situation. Another characteristic that poetry possess's is meter. There are many different types of meters and they can be distinguished through the stressed and unstressed syllables. The variation of these different meters is how a poet further accents a meaning or message he wants portrayed in his work.
Our class seemed to be getting pretty frustrated with the whole concept of meter, stressed and unstressed syllables. But, for me, I found it very interesting. I love how I have a further comprehension of poetic meters and have grown a fascination as to how poets fit them into their work. The meters they choose are always so suitable and really add color to the poem. It's truly inspiring reading poetry with such flow and meaning. They make it seem so easy to set a meter to language. I for one, have a lot of practice to do with meter and setting it to my own words. I have yet to create a masterpiece.

Colorblind-Counting Crows review

This song is a poem because there is feminine rhyme and a sort of rhythm to it. Just like any other poem or song, there is meaning. I see this song being about someone who has gone a type of numb. Not necessarily a physical numb, but more of an emotional and mental numb. He says that he's "colorblind", "taffy-stuck", "tongue-tied", and many other short descriptions of this feeling of numbness. I suppose any amount of things could have led him to this feeling. Possibly a break-up, a tragedy, anything that causes an immense amount of pain. Just like anyone who has had to deal with a tragedy, they assure all who are worried that they are fine. And the songwriter does just this. It was the musical line that first drew my attention, but then I looked into the lyrics and I loved it even more.

Colorblind-Counting Crows

I am colorblind 
Coffee black and egg white 
Pull me out from inside 
I am ready 
I am ready 
I am ready 
I am 
taffy stuck, tongue tied 
Stuttered shook and uptight 
Pull me out from inside 
I am ready 
I am ready 
I am ready 
I am fine 
I am covered in skin 
No one gets to come in 
Pull me out from inside 
I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding 
I am 
colorblind 
Coffee black and egg white 
Pull me out from inside 
I am ready 
I am ready 
I am ready 
I am fine 
I am fine 
I am fine

Jeanne Marie Beaumont

Today is the day that she was a guest speaker in out class and I can honestly say that I loved it. I was so impressed and loved her style of writing. Granted, I only heard one of her poems, Afraid so, but it was incredible. I loved how she allowed for it to be set to images as well. I think it made her words just that much more powerful and meaningful.

Throughout the past week, I have been looking forward to tonight because of her reading. I already had my heart set on going, and it only got better when it would be accepted as a class absence. After todays class, I am even more excited to learn more about her as a poet and hear even more of her work.

Thank you so much for having her come to our class and do an extra poetry reading. I am truly excited to sit on it and be a part of the experience.

Roses

I found a fascination in the poems we read that talked about roses. It was interesting to see all the different aspects the rose had in each poem. In William Blake's poem, the rose referred to his love whom was sick. In Robert Burn's poem, he compared the feeling of love he felt to a rose. However, Dorothy Parker's view of roses was much more foul. She expressed that she was sick of roses and wanted something more than just a flower.

In class, Parker's poem erupted great conversation and opinions. At first, most agreed by saying that she was evil, rude, and selfish. I was one who agreed with this opinion. But, I thought deeper into it and realized that her feeling of wanting more could be coming from something entirely different than selfishness. We don't know her past; she doesn't state it in her writing. So, I started thinking that just maybe she isn't selfish. Maybe her heart has been broken so many times before by men who wooed her with roses and chocolates. It's as if she sees those symbols of romance as strictly just lies. Because of her possible past heartbreaks, she needs something a little more than a single rose with thorns.

The ways poets express through their writing.

There are numerous ways for a poet to express whatever emotion they feel towards a event, situation, or feeling. Depending on the individual poet, there style of writing varies. For example, a rapper's choice of words to express themselves varies drastically in accordance to Shakespeare. However, both writers works need to be looked deep into in order to take in and digest the full meaning and emotions behind the words. Because of the different variations and complexity, it makes poetry interesting and unique due to all the differences among every poem.

To further portray their individuality and emotion, literary elements are used to create a more definite image of what the writer wants to be projected in the readers mind. They use similes, metaphors, personification, hyperbolic statements and many others to define a certain point that they are determined to make.

What is a Poem?

A poem is any emotion that we feel. It's twisted and formed into whichever way the writer wants it to be portrayed as to the reader. Rhythm can be a twist, rhyme is a flow, and texture can be the way you try and make the reader feel. All of these things are ways in which writers try to express their deepest and most personal experiences and emotion, or even their least personal experiences.
Poetry can be used anywhere and for anything (not just for the lonely). We hear it everyday; it's in our music. It's in a writer's and a reader's mind. It may seem as if poetry is disappearing, but it's not. It's all around us. As long as we keep on living and feeling, there will be poetry.