Reading Response 1: Form and Function
These section of the book interested me because I struggle with form often. Sometimes when I write, I think that I may to have a form in mind. I enjoy writing prose and just writing what is on my mind. In this section, I discovered that poets do not always have to have a certain form in mind, which in my case, is a good problem to have. From this section, I learned that it is better to write tons and tons, and then you can go back and edit later. It is harder to add than it is take away.
Reading Response 2: Q & A Session
I really enjoyed this section of the book because it taught me an activity to use in case I ever had a hard time getting started writing a poem. This is a great way to initialize a random impulse. I intend to utilize this activity soon in an effort to get started on a poem.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Random Impulse
Skin Sketch
Owners are like robotics machines with many branches
And some are worn from inked art—
They cause the eyes to dance in color
Or skip into an impression made world.
I have never seen one move, but
Sometimes they grasp the arm tightly.
Fingers are when the body hole floods
And lingers through a pipe:
Then the hole is an ocean and traps
Like gilled birds underneath the blue.
Heat is when the string is lit.
It has the strength of seven suns
And can defeat the nippy notes
That hum through the air with no rhythm.
If it twists like a hook, the flats push it to
Their flesh to a placid paradise.
Extinction is when the cavity swallows—
A wound that fattens the hollow.
In the evening when the hues avert,
They crouch in corners,
And see in inked art, themselves—
In impressions, with the lights out.
Response
Love is a dress that you made
long to hide your knees
love to say this to your face,
"I'll love you only"
for your days and excitement,
what will you keep for to wear?
someday drawing you different,
may I be weaved in your hair?
Love and some verses you hear
say what you can't say
love to say this in your ear,
"I'll love you that way"
from your changing contentments,
what will you choose for to share?
someday drawing you different,
may I be weaved in your hair?
long to hide your knees
love to say this to your face,
"I'll love you only"
for your days and excitement,
what will you keep for to wear?
someday drawing you different,
may I be weaved in your hair?
Love and some verses you hear
say what you can't say
love to say this in your ear,
"I'll love you that way"
from your changing contentments,
what will you choose for to share?
someday drawing you different,
may I be weaved in your hair?
-Iron and Wine-----------------------------------------------------------
I really enjoyed this classmate's poem. Love does change and always changes--whether it is for best or worse. I feel like this is a very delicate poem. I believe something about the love should feel more racey and catching. I really like the last two lines in the stanzas-- interesting. Cool!
Response
Wedding Night:
Tainted hands caresses the ivory body
Fingers entangling in sunshine curls
Crimson lips taste of bitterness
Licking sweet ripples over the skin
Stillness of movement sings a silence
Illuminating the white burial gown
Void is the commitment stain
Leaving purity a noble whore
As a red petticoat spells abortion
With the A sewn upon swollen breast
Falling flight to the feathers of Wrath
As porcelain blues glisten in iridescence
Staring up from the marble table
A toe-tagged Jane Doe then filed
When ashes welcomed the lily child
---------------------------------------------------------
This poem was enjoyable. I do get the sense that it was a wedding night; however, is it necessary for the title. I also get the vibe that it was taken from the novel The Scarlett Letter, yes? Then, it begins to come together in the end as well. Instead of choosing colors like red, think of more intense ways to describe such colors. Awesome.
Junkyard
Crushing the Book:
Using facebook in any way shape or form...
When someone is distracted by their lap top or phone you ask them if they are "crushing the book"? Because people tend to become less connected to those around them when they are running all over facebook.
Boregasm:
noun, verb: the result of or act of reaching the apex or climax of boredom; Filling one's capacity for boredom to the extreme boundary
-Dude, this class is so boring that I just boregasmed
-Oh yeah? Well I had three classes today...triple boregasm.
-Dude, this class is so boring that I just boregasmed
-Oh yeah? Well I had three classes today...triple boregasm.
Concern Troll:
A person who posts on a blog thread, in the guise of "concern," to disrupt dialogue or undermine morale by pointing out that posters and/or the site may be getting themselves in trouble, usually with an authority or power. They point out problems that don't really exist. The intent is to derail, stifle, control, the dialogue. It is viewed as insincere and condescending.
-A concern troll on a progressive blog might write, "I don't think it's wise to say things like that because you might get in trouble with the government." Or, "This controversy is making your side look disorganized."
Traffuck:
Peak hour traffic or any general traffic which slows you down.
Im late for work and im stuck in traffuck.
Call of Duty:
The cause for a break-up in a realtionship... Especially if it's Black Ops.
Humbility:
the act of being humble while having a sense of humility.
I kept a state of humbility, while I spoke with the president.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Response
My Dear Suffer Bear
Oh my suffer bear
My pink and bloody bear
Your stiches conceal my worries
Your patches hide my fear
You my dear friend keep me sane
In this mad hatter world.
Perhaps someday I can share you with the world?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This poem has me drawn in from the first line-- A suffer bear. My curiosity is heightened toward what has supposedly happened to make the bear so sufferable. The owner of the suffer bear, emcompassing great emotion, also has a mysterious backdrop as well. I do understand that revealing too much information may make the poem lose it's mysterious tone, but I would like to know more.
Oh my suffer bear
My pink and bloody bear
Your stiches conceal my worries
Your patches hide my fear
You my dear friend keep me sane
In this mad hatter world.
Perhaps someday I can share you with the world?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This poem has me drawn in from the first line-- A suffer bear. My curiosity is heightened toward what has supposedly happened to make the bear so sufferable. The owner of the suffer bear, emcompassing great emotion, also has a mysterious backdrop as well. I do understand that revealing too much information may make the poem lose it's mysterious tone, but I would like to know more.
Random Impulse
It was big and had me going.
Its curves were enormous and had me from the first moment I had set my eyes on it. If only I could get my hands on it. I knew I could take it for a ride and treat it like a road king. My hand lingered down the smooth side of its walls while my mouth salivated. The anxiousness of wanting to ride it was so titillating.
The truck shook as my date plumped his annoying ass down into the driver’s seat. He slowly put the key in the ignition and the sound was pleasantly unbearable. The roar of the engine was loud. I observed the interior as he backed out of the confined area. The radio thumped and the speakers vibrated underneath my ass. The vibration sent a sensation of satisfaction up my spine. It was the best part of the date.
-Whitney J.
Junkyard
In a Station Of the Metro
-Ezra Pound
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.-Ezra Pound
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Junkyard
"The muffled thunder of dialogue comes through the walls, then a chorus of laughter. Then more thunder. Most of the laugh tracks on television were recorded in the early 1950s. These days, most of the people you hear laughing are dead."
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