Silliness for Sanity

An e-mail I sent to a friend late last night, as I was "writing my research paper." This is what a budding English student does to procrastinate when said English student has a research paper to write. :D I also forwarded it to my English teacher, so that she could see what a hard-working individual I was.



I want to call you and waste hours and hours talking to you (with many long awkward pauses) and not doing my research paper. . .

I want to go to the park and sit by the lake and ponder life and not do my research paper. . . .

I want to write poetry and journal and not write my research paper. . . .

I want to be scandalous and come sit on your front porch and make spooky noises that distract you from studying, while avoiding doing my research paper. . .

I want to eat ice cream and throw the document "research paper" away in my computer recycle bin forever. . .

I want to sleep. . .

I'm going outside to do my work on the trampoline. Surely, surely, that will help me to focus. I wonder if I can jump and write at the same time?

Hey, do you want to hang out this weekend? Because you see, this weekend, I have blocked off for writing a research paper. And you see, this weekend, I need an excuse to not work on that paper. :D *hint, hint*

You should call me and distract me from my research paper.

No you shouldn't. 'Twould be bad of you.

I'm such a baby.

If I keep writing, maybe I can turn this in instead of my paper.

Okay I should go now.

Talk to you later.

Or maybe sooner.

Toodles,
Becky

Writing Poetry

Wow - I didn't know that I could write poetry.

The other day I was sitting at the park, in my car. I often do that, in between activities throughout a busy day. I just drive to the park and sit in my car and look out the windshield at the beauty of nature. When the weather is nice, I subject myself to bugs, damp grass, and rough tree bark against my back.

Anyways, I was thinking a lot, and very emotional/upset about some things. And I decided that maybe I should write them out. But my usual journaling just wasn't cutting it. So I thought, "Hey! Why not give poetry a try!" Going over poetry in class has helped me realize that poetry is very much written for the author. While rhyming and tone and symbol and imagery are all important and wonderful things in poetry - there's also a point at which nearly anything can be poetry. Naturally, these "anything" poems aren't going to be published, or read by the multitudes like the amazing poems in my Comp II textbook. But they still count as poetry. :)

I wrote 3 poems that day. I wrote one yesterday. It was an interesting and enlightening experience.

One thing it made me wonder is how much poets put into rewriting and revising their poems. I mean, because what I wrote is just my raw thoughts, written in lines that somewhat go together, I can't imagine going back through and revising or editing it. I mean, I wouldn't be feeling the same things - how would I be able to remember what I was wanting to say or convey, and how would I make it say it better if I was no longer feeling that way?

Does that make any sense? No? Oh well, it's poetry, so it doesn't have to!

"When I consider how my light is spent" - John Milton

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide;
"Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work or His own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait."

"We Wear the Mask" - Paul Laurence Dunbar

WE wear the mask that grins and lies,

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—

This debt we pay to human guile;

With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,

And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,

In counting all our tears and sighs?

Nay, let them only see us, while

We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries

To thee from tortured souls arise.

We sing, but oh the clay is vile

Beneath our feet, and long the mile;

But let the world dream otherwise,

We wear the mask!

"Living in Sin" - Adrienne Rich

This is doubling as a "reading assignment" and "class thoughts" entry. Namely, because I loved our class discussion on this poem. And, I loved this poem. There was very vivid imagery, which always makes it interesting, and it was fairly easy to understand what was going on. My favorite thing though, was that there are two equally probable interpretations of the situation that I can see, and I can't decide which I prefer. :)

The first would be that author is a young married woman, who has been disappointed that the early passion of love has burned away. "She had thought that the studio would keep itself;/ no dust upon the furniture of love." It's almost sad to read from that view-point. One would hope that, in a marriage, there is more to be found than simply infatuation and the feeling of love. And yet, there is also some hope, at the end of the poem: ". . .she woke sometimes to feel the daylight coming/like a relentless milkman up the stairs." While relentless has negative conotations, I think that it can be intepreted to show the fact that this marriage is going to be with her every day from here on out. And that, while that can be somewhat depressing for someone no longer "in love," the daylight will come and her and her husband will grow into a more mature, healthy relationship, based on things besides the passionate, early love they shared.

The second would go along more with the title - that the author is having an affair and does not feel fulfilled by it. "Half heresy to wish . . . the panes relieved of grime." The secretive nature of this affair is also what dirties it. However, reality is still there. While the nights may be full of love, the day always comes and she is left doing all the ordinary things of life. "By evening she was back in love again. . ." - however, the ending (when looked at from this perspective) seems to present the possibility of her leaving behind this "living in sin." The relentless daylight could perhaps symbolize reality, and the fact that one of these days, she is going to have to face up to what she's doing, and remove herself from the passionate pleasures of this affair.

So yeah - that wasn't nearly as organized as I had thought it out last night when I couldn't get to sleep. But close enough.

Poetry, Facebook Style

Many of the poems we are reading don't have any discussion questions along with them. So I'm just going to give a brief "like" or "dislike" for each, as well as several quick comments.

"Theme for English B" - Langston Hughes
LIKE

"Dulce et Decorum Est" - Wilfred Owen
LIKE: Somehow, this poem would not get near to capturing the same emotions if it were prose. The poet essentially criticizes the reader (or at least, a reader who is not in his same situation), and yet does so in such a round-about way that the reader doesn't feel offended in the least, but rather is inclined to agree with him - it's positive genius.

"This is Just to Say" - William Carlos Williams
ummmmmm. No comment

"Silence" - Marianne Moore
LIKE: "The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence; not in silence, but in restraint."

"Anyone Lived in a Pretty How Town" - E.E. Cummings
STRONGLY DISLIKE: Maybe I just missed something, but this poem seemed to be absolute nonsense. It made me feel rather hostile towards poetry in general. :) I refuse to answer the questions about it, because I honestly can't. It made no sense to me. At all.

"Southeast Corner" - Gwendolyn Brooks
NO OPINION: Fortune could mean her accumulated wealth, or her luck, or fate perhaps. It's kind of an odd poem - but it wasn't absolute nonsense like the one before it.

"In a Station of the Metro" - Ezra Pound
LIKE: This is my kind of poetry. Simple, yet powerful. It makes your mind go all sorts of places beyond the poem, and yet is clear enough to understand.

"The Piercing Chill I Feel" - Taniguchi Buson
DISLIKE: I'm not a big fan of haikus, but I like what the analysis after the poem said, explaining the symbols.

"The Winter Evening Settles Down" - T.S. Eliot
LIKE:
1. Kind of a lonely, desolate feeling. There isn't a lot of hope or joy felt with the words and images he uses. Overall, definitely more negative connotations than positive.
2. I think it's a working-class, meat-industry neighborhood that's very beat up and slum-like. The day ends at 6 o'clock, and the smell of steak in addition to the description of the das as "smoky" indicates some sort of meat/factory combination nearby. The vacant lots, newspapers sweeping around, broken blinds, etc. give the impression of poverty - if not poverty, then certainly not upper-class nobility.

"Root Cellar" - Theodore Roethke
LIKE:
1. He gives very vivid descriptions, and not only visual - the smells and feelings he describes seem very real. It is evident he has experienced it himself.
2. Again, both visual and smell. "roots as ripe as old bait" and "lolling obscenely from mildewed crates"
3. It starts out as pretty gross. But the last two lines show that he thought of it as more than just a gross cellar. It's as if he admires the dirty and disgusting plants, for holding onto life and pressing on despite their circumstances and surroundings. Maybe he too felt trapped, perhaps by the pressure to remain in the family business, and like the plants, searches for chinks of light, clinging to life. Maybe I've been reading too much poetry and it's making me invent meaning that isn't there.

"In the Old Stone Pool" - Matsuo Basho
DISLIKE: It's dumb

"To See a World in a Grain of Sand" - William Blake
LIKE: The imagery is beautiful. In only four lines, he conveys such a vivid picture of earth and heaven. Again, simple words and phrases, to the point, and yet allowing your imagination to go forward to wherever you will.

"Metaphors" - Sylvia Plath
I missed something important in this one, and hope we discuss it in class tomorrow. Somehow, I am entirely unable to make sense of the questions. It seems like just a silly poem, and yet the questions make it sound like there is all sorts of hidden meaning. Hopefully, I am illuminated tomorrow. *Ohhhhhhhh. She's pregnant. I see now. :D

"You Fit Into Me" - Margaret Atwood
YIKES: Okay, so at first thought, I approached this with caution, expecting it to be sexually related. Boy was I surprised. It starts out okay, but suddenly turns weird and absolutely disgusting. Not in a sexual way - but in a nasty, ewwwwww, don't make me think of that because it makes chills run down my back way. So yeah. If she was going for shock and surprise - she wins.

"Recital" - John Updike
LIKE: It was fun to read aloud, and incredibly creative and silly. I enjoy poetry like that.

"The Splendor Falls on Castle Walls" - Alfred, Lord Tennyson
LIKE: I thought it rather beautiful. Definitely one of those poems that is for the ears. Which I enjoy.

"The Panther" - Ogden Nash
LIKE: I laughed when I read "anther." I like these poems, that don't require great thought or in depth analysis. Is it because I'm lazy? Or perhaps I'm just a simple person and not capable of great though. Eh, no matter.

"We Real Cool" - Gwendolyn Brooks.
LIKE: Somewhat odd, but again - fun and interesting rhythm.

"Resume" - Dorothy Parker
LIKE: I don't understand the title, but I really enjoy the irony of it. It's a tragic thing to joke about, and yet shows how someone like me would probably treat it. Afterall, suicide is impractical.

"The Parable of the Good Seed" - Matthew 13:24-30
LIKE: I never thought of this as poetry. I still don't think of this as poetry. The end.

"Grass" - Carl Sandburg

1. They are all places, locations of battles.
2. Well, it must be understood that people died at these places, often in very tragic ways.