Expired ceramics and frozen earrings

When my Dad comes to visit me, he buys me little treats and random toiletries. Sesame treats, mouthwash, cough drops, and Ak-Mak crackers. For some reason, I find that I need them all.

I got a birthday package from my friend Katie on Monday. When I picked it up, the guy working in the mailroom told me I should open it quickly because (he pointed to the words on the side of the box) it had to be kept refrigerated. I postponed lunch and went to my room to open it. Inside, there was a beautiful little ceramic jar and a pair of green earring. I wondered why they needed to be refrigerated…I guess Katie’s Mum (who mailed the package) reused a box that said “keep refrigerated” on the side of it and the USPS system took it seriously. I think that’s pretty cool. I think I am going to use the box the next time I want to send something to someone and when they get a cold package delivered to them in the morning, containing nothing that could melt or spoil, then they will feel the same amused confusion as I did and the USPS will have once again been duped.

Mental Block

Most times inspiration comes to me when I'm alone somewhere in a quiet place, completely lost in my thoughts, and some idea or another just floats into my head. The words come all at once and I  just start scribbling on whatever is near me, an index card, or a piece of scrap paper. At the end of these moments I often have a paper littered with random words and phrases, completely unorganized and scribbled all over. Since I find starting something the hardest part, after a period of brainstorming like this writing feels more natural and relaxed; the fear of coming up with nothing is gone. My favorite pieces have come out of these moments. 

During class today when we had to write iambic pentameter my mind felt all fuzzy and I couldn't get my thoughts together. I kept getting distracted by other people, the leaves scattered all over the ground, the ant that crawled onto my hand....to contribute to that, writing makes me feel vulnerable and I like to be alone when I'm composing something. The knowledge of a time limit (that always runs out way too fast) also made me feel anxious to write something quickly. But I guess if it were easy then I wouldn't have as much to learn from this class. Hopefully by the end of the semester I'll be able to get rid of that mental block during class composition, and be able to expand the areas in which I feel comfortable writing.

  

On the Road

I am analyzing a book called On the Road by Jack Kerouac, and for those of you who don't know who he is, he is one of the few writers that defined the Beat generation. Beat was a word used highly in the late 40's and early 50's. Jazz music was making it's way up the charts with artists like Charlie Bird Parker and Thelonious Monk. Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac were writing poetry people had never seen before. They both had an interesting look towards America and it's relationship with people, material objects, sex, drugs, the whole lot of things that should not be talked about. Jack Kerouac writes the story of Dean Moriarty, a man fresh out of jail who finds the greatest car for sale to drive cross country with. The truth is this story is half fiction half non fiction, the names of the characters are changed though Neal Cassady, Jack Kerouac, and Allen Ginsberg actually travelled across America looking for another way to revolutionize America. Their poetry usually contains rude remarks of America and questions historical meanings of events. The book itself is a collection of these poems in a story. They embrace everything, their ideas and feelings run through the pages chanting freedom of the mind and freedom of speech. Do what you want. It sends a message to our demographic even now.

good lines from Mary Oliver's "Dream Work"

For our next assignment I am reviewing Mary Oliver's "Dream Work" book of poems. This is not the formal review, but I wanted to share some of lines from her poems that I really enjoyed.

The lines from the poem 'Journey' go...

"But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice,

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper 

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do -

determined to save

the only life you could save."

And the second poem is called "One or Two Things". I liked this line more than any other:

"For years and years I struggled

just to love my life."

Both of these poems/lines spoke to me in different ways. I think it is so important to have confidence in yourself and know that the path you choose in life is what you truly want to do. I think it is difficult to know what "fits" you, but to trust the choices you make. So, the first poem 'journey' gives you confidence to rule over your own life and to trust yourself. Also, Mary Oliver tells us, the readers, to continue to grow. Grow more confident, more determined, more involved in your own life - that is what will get you through your life - happy. 

The second poem "One or Two Things" was interesting. I didn't love the whole poem, but this one line struck me. Especially in young people, it is hard to LOVE everything that happens in your life. Being dumped, failing a class, falling down the stairs, gaining weight or losing someone you love-- none of them sound enjoyable and it is hard to find happiness in everything that happens in life. But, no matter what happens, it is still your life. And, you might as well make the best of all the horrible situations that come your way. Who cares about the little stuff in the end? Do the things that make you happy or satisfied. Live your life for your own satisfaction, not a great GPA or your parent's approval. Where is that going to get you if you aren't happy?

Writing

I hate critically analyzing author's work. I don't know why I took a class that requires me to do that. (Its not this one, in case anyone is confused). All the English classes Ive taken here have been fun because Ive gotten to make up stories, allow my personality to flow into my writing of true people and places and events, and Ive even gotten to try my hand at writing some pretty bad poetry. But Ive enjoyed myself immensely doing all of that. However, when I'm asked to critically analyze work, I find it so much more difficult. It takes me such a long time to do, and I often feel like I'm missing the most obvious things right in front of my face. I actually haven't had to critically analyze anything since high school, and even then the expectations weren't as high as they are here. Its good for me to try something new, but damn, I'm glad I'm taking at least one creative writing class. Even though I still need to work on my poetry skills, I think I'm getting better. My sister got sprayed by a skunk this weekend and I wrote her a pretty sweet poem about it, so I suppose things are looking up.

The Apple That Astonished Paris Book Review

The book under review is The Apple That Astonished Paris by Billy Collins. Collins is an American poet and the poems included in this book were written between 2001 and 2003.
On a literal level the book is a single project composed of two sections, Away and Home. The poems are typically short consisting of around twenty-five lines written in unrhymed free verse. The writing style can be compared to that of Robert Frost, but holds a sort of innocence and playfulness with the world. The poems can be described as being straightforward, but elegantly angled to open the readers mind. The poetry of Billy Collins is the sort that anyone can appreciate. His use of simple words allows his short critiques on the world to be followed by all, but they still can withhold a complexity to invigorate the mind. At first glance his poems are often witty and light in delivery, but beneath can hold some somber truths of life. There seems to be an underlying tone of rethinking the world of knowledge and putting it in terms personal experience. Likewise the poems try to take what is commonplace and challenge their mundane dismissal. Some poems seem to be the words spoken from a wiseman reflecting on the world. Others seem to be narratives of the common man observing his world and sharing his knowledge gained through personal experience.

In an overall sense, it is an easygoing book of poetry. A reader can flip from page to page reading a poem a few times lingering for a moment and moving on without much sense of disillusion. Moving on though, the reader may have gained a deeper appreciation for the subject of the poem, which perhaps is the poet’s central purpose in writing this short book. Each poem seems to examine a part of life and either reflects upon its power or challenges its preconceptions in the readers mind. The subjects focused on in the poems range from the euthanasia of a cat to cancer to the clock on a wall of a bar. Some poems though dive deeply into the figurative. Collins seems to have a knack for explaining the intangible through metaphor.

From the style of Collins, an aspiring poet might hope to emulate the simplicity of wording and complexity of meaning held within his poetry. A writer need not try to impress readers with flowery words and complex phrases, but shock them with a simple explanation that stems into infinites of meaning. I think the simple complexities of his poems is what makes Collins book worth the read.

Exhaustion.

College is really such an interesting time in our lives. I don’t know about anyone else, but I am busy at essentially all times. I practically have a schedule to keep everyday of things I need to accomplish from the time I wake up to the time I go to bed. It is such a fast life. It’s hard to even notice the passage of time because we move from one thing to the next. We have little time to even sit around and notice what day of the week it is. It is funny though, anytime I find myself with nothing really to do, I get anxious and bored.

Balancing work with a social life is truly quite a challenging task. I found myself going home this weekend for just one night (that is all I could sacrifice) and ended up sleeping ten and a half hours. We run and run and just don’t realize how much that running takes out of us I guess. It is a fun life though to life so fast, but a stressful one at that. I wonder after graduation “in the real world”, will things slow down any? Will we drop the excitement and just keep the stress of having a job? I hope after I graduate my life can slow down some, but will that just end up being boring?

third that

Yeah when I write I am hesitant. I think is that a good idea? are people going to like it? It is kinda a weird feeling, but I think the more you concentrate on it the worse it is. I think I'm more productive when i just sit and write, instead of freaking out about it. Eventually an idea comes to me. And to honest everyone in our class probably feels that way. I also think some days are just easier to write than others. And its not like what you write is permanent. You can always change what you write. But then there is the question how many times should you really revise your work? I have had the same situation where i revise something so much it turns into something completely different... I don't know. At the same time, I think it is important to write what you want to. Include what you like the best or its not really yours anymore. Its what other people want. I mean its good to write with an audience in mind but i think you got to put your own spin to it. That way you are happy with your work as well.

look down

i have the same problems. i write a lot of stuff on my own and at the time feel like the material isnt bad. but when i read it over later in the day or week i feel like its too amateur. even stuff i have written over the summer has good content but isnt presented the way i want it to be, it just seems under par of what i want it to be. but then when i read poems and listen to music i feel like some artists have crappy lyrics every now and then too. i want my stuff to sound more professional and am trying to have lots of good techniques and rhymes and all when i write but it cmoes out less appealing then i thought. i also have the question of how long does stuff seem to take other people? is writing a poem/song in 5 minutes average, or does it take people a week of revising? i realize anyone can write something in 5 minutes thats good from time to time but i;m also not sure of how much revising to do or how much time to put in to a poem. there are so many hit songs that people have written in 1 hour and other took them months. the more i revise my stuff, the more i completely change the original prompt, and i end up writing a completely different poem, which isnt bad but i could have just written 2 different poems and came up with 2 instead of 1.

Reading, verse, writing

I write, sometimes for myself. My biggest issue with writing is my attachment to what I’ve said. As an emotional and moody person, I have many ups and downs in short periods of time. When I write in these, whatever I’ve said fits exactly how I feel. Come the next day, and those feelings I had harnessed seem foreign to me. I am embarrassed by my work. I wrote a thing feeling clever, and I read it feeling drole. It is a glaring inconstancy between my writing skills and my reading critically.
How am I supposed to bridge that gap? How can I write something I am proud of? Do I need to work on it for a long time, over years of rewriting, or should I just leave things as their written, as I sometimes do when drawing?
Up to now, some of my best work has come from a five minute study. I suppose I should just keep a journal and practice. If I had time… I never have time for anything that seems “to be for my own benefit.” Ohh well, maybe I’ll just play out a day of “academic life.” It can’t be that hard, can it?

masks

I don’t know how many of you have been keeping a close watch on the current presidential campaign this year, but all of its ridiculousness has finally caught up to me. I have never realized until now how much the media has played a role in presidential elections. As much as both sides of the race seem to be genuinely interested in the well-being of the majority of Americans, the strong egos that both democrats and republicans project are more apparent than ever. I understand that both John McCain and Barrack Obama have to advertise their beliefs, credentials, and promises to the American people, but the general concepts of humility modesty seem to be lost. By strong egos, I mean that this election has been turning more and more egotistical. After watching numerous speeches, debates, and commercials concerning the current political agendas of both Barrack Obama and John McCain, I feel as though they are wearing “masks.” This is only my visual way of describing politicians in an abstract idea. Politicians constantly feel compelled to project images in order to win over American votes. It is like they are wearing masks for the different crowds that they wish to please. In other words, it’s all about the image. For example: in order for John McCain to appear more youthful and physically appealing has chosen a VP running mate who is young and beautiful. The best choice as far as intellect and experience? That’s a question voters should be pondering.

Amazon Peoples

I’m tired. It’s about that time in the semester when everything picks up in a hard way. I think it’s funny though that we as students complain so much about work. After all, I suppose that’s what we are here to do. It still seems like we are getting hammered with work when we just want to be getting hammered. I find that it can be a struggle to feed your academic life and your social life equally. It seems like it’s hard for people I talk to who have been out of college for some ten or more years to remember that being a college student is a full time job. I don’t mean forty hours a week—that’s twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. We are scholars, athletes, social animals, friends, enemies, and everything in between. I often feel myself pretending to be an adult, when I know I just want to be a kid. I think that might be what all of life is like. I don’t know yet though.

It’s hard to say what the point of this is. It’s a race for the best grades or the most friends or the craziest weekend. But then, before you realize it, it’s senior year, and you have to go out into the “real world.” I love that though—real world—as if the world of college is not real, or the outside world is somehow realer. I’m not sure it is. Life is just what you make of it, whether that be a corner office for a corporate giant, or traveling the world, or being adopted into some little known tribe in the Amazon basin. I’m not sure if that last one is very plausible though—I’m sure the indigenous peoples would think we looked and smelled funny, and they’d probably try to kill us.

Listening to Amy Winehouse on a Wednesday

I find that the colder it gets, the more I have to say. It could also be that I have been away from my Mum for nearly a month now and she is the person with whom I have the longest and most involved conversations. Her absence and the restlessness of autumn made the third assignment easy for me to start. I like having a bit of direction when it comes to expression. I remember googling “writing prompts” with my friend Cara once in a hotel room on the way to visit her college because we both wanted to write but nothing was coming to us. That’s when I miss high school classes. My teachers always had funny little prompts ready for us to respond to. And in high school, I let myself deviate from the prompts if something better was coming but it didn’t quite fit the rules. Confidence helps disobedience and oftentimes disobedience is the key to good writing.

Anyhoo, I like this whole “workshopping” thing. It’s interesting to actually converse with poets rather than try and guess what they’re saying. Somehow I always manage to forget that poems are due on Tuesdays, though. And I write them with far too little time to spare, which doesn’t allow for much mental marination.

families

Charlie's post made me think about my own family and our traditions and more obviously, our quirks. My family seems relatively "normal" to people who have just met us. But, each and every member of my family is totally bizarre in their own way. 

Also, everyone has started to get excited about going home to see their families or their parents coming up to school this weekend. Well, my parents aren't coming because they have just started to truly enjoy their "empty nest." I have two older siblings, a sister in grad school and a brother still in college. This is their first year with no children at home and I am sad to say that they are loving it. I usually call my mom about once or twice a week to complain about work or to tell her something really exciting that happened. Now, when I call home, she screens my calls! She'll call me back the next day from work, saying that she and my dad were too busy out to dinner, or swimming in Lake Michigan or at a movie. Since when do my nerdy parents go out?? I, obviously, have not taken their newfound social life very well, but I didn't think my very "normal" and nerdy and lame parents would ever start going out again. They always seemed happy as homebodies. My dad likes watching The Office on t.v. and my mom does yoga tapes in the basement. Now, all of their oddities seem totally weird. I feel as though they changed with all their going out and traveling. And, their reason for not coming to SLU for parent's weekend is that it is my mom's 56th birthday and she wants to do something FUN. She says SLU is too boring and isolated to spend her birthday weekend here. Ouch. My own mother just denied me. 

Tradition

If I had a restaurant I'd probably name it Delectable Delites just because I love the word delectable. It's a bolder word than delicious, unless I'm eating fishes because fishes are delicious. Usually I say, "This collection is delectable," like this collection of cakes are delectable. Delectable Delites would be a bakery. I dig cheesecake. Erin may not like it but I love cheesecake, in fact I have a piece of cheesecake every year for my birthday. That doesn't mean that I have a slice of cheesecake once a year, although I would like a slice of cheesecake more often at Dana, or elsewhere for that matter. It's cool how traditions work. Erin's post about cheesecake got me hungry and thinking. Everyone has traditions, cheesecake for me is one of them. Another tradition I have is one that has been carried for more than 20 years, but not as old as my father. He and a bunch of his buddies came up with the tradition to play a game of football every Thanksgiving morning. This started 43 years ago if I can remember correctly, but every year it's been the same game. I dig change, change is a key element to me, but every time I set foot on that high school pitch I know what's coming. Jim Grass is always the first one on the field, tossing the ball around with his son. Pops and I arrive as well as the the other dozen family members. Bootsy's always dressed in his BHS jersey from ages ago and the Connors family always have smiles on their faces, even if they're losing by a landslide. The game starts in the crisp cold morning and ends with a beer in your hand. The toddlers have apple juice and gatorade. The turkey's still cooking at home and because of that I try not to eat anything during the day. What's your tradition?

Cheesecake

This past weekend I went to my roommate's town of Lowville, New York where we saw the largest cheesecake ever made, got completely lost on a bike ride, and saw a calf born at a dairy farm. From all this I learned that I don't really like cheesecake, that I should always carry a map, and that I definitely want to go to some form of med school after I graduate. It's amazing how one experience, or a handful of experiences can teach you something about yourself, spark your interest, or just affect you in a way that changes your world view. Now I'm not saying that eating a gigantic piece of cheesecake changed my life, but it did teach me something about myself, and sometimes its all the small things that help you figure out who you are and what you are going to do with your life. Just something to think about. 

Senior Freakout

Well, the senior year"Oh fuck, what am I going to do with my life?" has hit me this past week. Sure, my major of psychology works well with my minors in gender studies and sociology, but where will that get me? Oh, that's right...unemployment. Originally I had just assumed I would go to grad school, but after attending every grad school thing Career Services has put on so far, all signs point to NO. Apparently I shouldn't go to grad school... I don't know what area of psych Id like to study, I'm pretty much avoiding the job world, and since I'm absolutely uncertain of what I'd like to do, seems I shouldn't waste the money and go. Now what am I going to do? Go home and go back to my summer job of waitressing where everyone is amazed to learn that I go to college and am 22 and not 14? I don't want to face that. Oh, and to make me feel like even more of a failure, I just withdrew from my year long senior project. Cool. Turns out when I went to the meeting, everything I had known was contradicted and I was already way too behind. With 4 classes and an SYE next semester it just wasnt going to work. Still cant help feeling like a loser though. I can tell Im going to be a very negative person this semester.

Are futon's the new source of inspiration?

I spent the majority of my week and weekend sick on my futon in my room at the Delta house. While I was sitting around, feeling terrible, I called up my mom, and she filled me in on her life and the latest news about my father and siblings. After chatting for a while, I hung up the phone and felt like I had been hit with thousands of new stories and bulks of new information I had missed while at school. After I hung up I began to realize that the simplest of things inspire a person to write. When my mother and I had finished talking, I began to wonder and almost critically analyze all the new information that was processing in my head. I do not consider myself the most creative of people, nor do I consider myself the greatest writer either, however I definitely pushed my limits this past week with writing. I do take 2 different English classes (because I messed up my scheduling and now need to take at least 2 or 3 English classes for the rest of my semesters at SLU) and this week, within these classes I think I wrote some of my favorite two pieces of writing that I’ve done in a while, while sitting on my futon. And when I say favorite I don't mean they are grammatically correct, appeasing to the general audience, or lyrically poetic. I mean the topics were personal, true and important, and they seemed to have left a resonating sense of relief on me. I wrote about some of the “news” my mom passed on to me about our family, friends, or neighbors. I felt better releasing these stories to an audience, writing about these people, but the audience never really knowing who exactly I am writing about. Now I have got a glimpse at why authors do write about such deeply personal issues. It really can be a release valve for some people. I now know that and have experienced a fraction of it, and I thank this class for pushing me to try something new.

Clem Snide

"I was searching for something I could not describe
So I stared at the sun till the tears filled my eyes
Well I thought I was empty so I paid the cost
But now that I'm found I miss being lost

I opened my heart and I let Jesus in
With the promise that I would be free of my sins
But I only felt guilty that he died on the cross
Now that I'm found I miss being lost

I don't wanna suffer and I don't wanna die
I want the clouds parted in an endless, blue sky
But someone up there has a different plan
Now that I'm saved I wish I was damned"

That's Clem Snide, and the song is called "Jews for Jesus." A friend gave me the song, and it's perfect for our class. It is a bit down, but when you listen to it, it has a great up beat. I think that with all of our talk about candy, we should mention black licorice. This is my Black. It's a type of candy, but it isn't sweet by any means. It also needs to said that the "reading" of this poem adds a lot to its candy side.
I like it because its clever. It lines you know and changes them subtly so they have a new meaning. This isn't ground breaking stuff, but it is exemplified here. Well, that's that. Listen to it.
-Alex

Workshop

When I first signed up to take this class, one of the scariest things was the thought of having to read my poems aloud. I felt terrified, but decided to not think about it until after summer and I was back at school. The coolest thing is that workshop has been a lot of fun. You guys have been pretty baller when it comes to giving feedback. It was all good criticism i think. And people had some really good ideas for others. The fact that everyone is being very open helps a lot. I don't think anyone really feels uncomfortable about the situation either. Oh and you guys have some really sweet poems by the way. Many different topics. Like how we loved beanie babies when we were kids, got stung by bees, or poems that are filled of utter nonsense but make complete sense to me. Shibby shoo really puts a smile on my face. Creativity is just everywhere in this class, with the imagery and interesting play on words. It really just amazes me.
I thought "Taxi" was pretty sweet. The image of the cab crashing and going in reverse and coming back again was really cool. I pictured it all in slow motion. Everything was in black and white except for the taxi. Which was intense yellow. I was still confused about the canary part though. The taxi just turned into canaries....

freeze tile

ni hao, all. im currently jammin to immortal technique and thinking about the awesome freestyle battles he. its pretty amazing how people can become so good at rhyming ont he fly. i feel like freestyle is a necessary part of poetry becuase if you can crate poetry under pressure improv, then just writing should be that much easier. i feel like we should do some sort of freestyle project whether its freestyle battles or just writing freestyle poetry. i know people get into a flow but then they kinda stop to think about what they wrote, or at least i do. actual freestyle is hard and random but i feel like it really helps the thought out writings. well im not sure what to say about poetry anymore at this point. i guess ill address the group discussions. theyre a lot easier to do in small groups than in front of the whole class. we played a little bit of music while reading poems during our discussions i think it would be cool to do some of that too. it gets you into the rhythm and is exciting and fun to see how people can lay down prewritten rhymes to an instrumental track or rhythm. i now bid you farewell.

Mystery in Meaning

Reflecting on the thoughts of candy and medicine, I think my favorite kind of candy is the mystery in meaning found in a good poem. It is always nice to read a flowery poem that has a beautiful rhyme scheme and diction, but to take a poem apart and really get to the core of what it is about is the most rewording part to me. I enjoy a poem where I can read it ten times and with each reading discover something new hidden within the lines. I think it is important to hide the medicine both for artistic value and protection of the poet.
Poetry is such an intimate style that it is just too much to ask a poet to lay his deepest thoughts on the line. In the mystery of meaning he can protect himself, while still giving some idea to what the poem is truly about.

When I think of the medicine of a poem, I think of a profound message or statement about life actually being held within the poem. Frivolous poems can be fun, but they really can’t speak to a reader like a poem debating the truths of life and mankind. I think it is important for there to be some sweets in a poem like structure, rhyme, and metaphors. They should be used whenever possible, but never at the expense of the message itself.

Inspiration again

I think it’s interesting how one poem can just roll down the nearual connections leading from my brain, down my arm, and all the way to my writing fingertips without really feeling like I did any work at all, when the next poem I try to write takes fifteen attempts and nearly twenty four hours of reflection in order to get a final piece I’m happy with. It’s all about inspiration. It was easy to write the first poem—about a bee stinging me—because I had gotten stung that day. Easy enough. But it is not always so easy to pull up inspiration and know what I really want to write about. Maybe the assignment was a little harder too—I don’t know. But I think it might be helpful to carry around a notebook or a piece of paper or just a pen and some skin. Then, whenever that inspiring moment hits me, I’ll have something to write it down with.

Inspiration is sometimes hard to come by. I feel that by searching too hard for it, I might lose sight of a moment that might be worth remembering. Every moment seems to fly by us so quickly, especially here at college where we are always looking forward to the next assignment that’s due, the next big party, the next time we see our long distance significant others, or whatever the case may be. I find that we as a society are always saying things like, “Hey, look at that, it’s practically six o’clock already,” when in reality it’s something like 5:40. In general, we rush ourselves through our lives and forget to notice those moments that our ancestral humans could have spent entire lifetimes pondering.

Blog 3 Indifference

I have found that being an unconcerned and generally rude person to others is one personal flaw that I find to be tremendously negative. A dangerous game it is to be indifferent to your surroundings. While you don’t have to go out of your way to act negatively towards another person, it is true that what you DON’T do in a situation can be worse. Here is one example of why I feel so strongly about this topic: So I’m walking through P&C by myself picking up some necessities for the weekend, and I see a struggling woman with two toddlers drop four bags of groceries and the entire contents of her purse disperse across the floor. I was standing a pretty far distance away, so I couldn’t run over to help right away. What really got to me was the fact that I saw FOUR groups of people of the college age walk right past her as if buying the 30’s of budlight and natty ice was really that important. So yeah, I didn’t say anything to them but I was really really angry and had to watch the whole sad situation play out. I guess I will never understand some people, but I have realized that sometimes when I observe people during bad or awkward situations, some people become intensely emotionally involved, while others completely distance themselves. I have found that although it may be difficult to face certain difficult situations, such as an ex-boyfriend, or a messy incident in the grocery store, it is always best to confront the situation. This extremely general and vague thought I believe can be applied to almost any circumstance. If anyone of the opposite sex is reading this, please note to yourself that not helping out a struggling woman in this type of situation is really really not cool!!!

Poetry for Peace

Hello all. I went to Poetry for Peace last week, as I said in class. This begins my first blog about a poetry reading. (I’m excited)
Poetry for Peace consisted of half a dozen readers and a few observers. I decided not to read at the first meeting because I wanted to get a sense of the structure of the reading and the sort of poems that are read. There were four adults who read their own work and two students who read works of other people. One boy read a poem entirely in Spanish and then had a translator reread it in English. While he was reading in a language I didn’t understand, I listened for appealing sounds.
I like spoken poetry in foreign languages for the same reason I like songs in foreign languages. You have to listen to the most basic part of language, which is basically fragments of sound (the signifiers). Without even diving into the meaning (the signified), pleasure and appreciation can be extracted from the work. With English poetry and songs, I tend to focus more on the meaning of the words than their sounds.
Of the poems read, I liked the lyrical material the best. They let my mind flow alongside the language easier than the narrative poems, which I tend not to understand fully unless I have a hard copy in front of me and I get to read is multiple times.
Overall, I liked Poetry for Peace but I hope more people attend next time. And perhaps I’ll try reading a poem myself next time. Everyone in class should come at least once, it’s very flexible in terms of content and relaxed about reading styles. ☺

P.S. There is a typo in my candy poem that I’ll point out tomorrow in my group. There’s a “to” where there should be a “too”.

Home Spice

Candy tastes delectable without a doubt. What we've done though is added different tastes to the candy, meaning we've tested our own tastes within a group of candy lovers. Fresh. Succulent. We savor the taste as we discuss it. Chewing slowly is key. That's another thing, when you are eating with friends think about eating at a slower pace. Changes the tempo doesn't it? I'm not a fast eater myself. I like to combine tastes as well. Complimentary colors. Complimentary comidas. That's spanish for fighting chicken. Proceed to your nearest food provider and order a chicken sandwich with some waffle fries. If in the case of an emergency, scream and panic and sprint to the nearest exit. If you do happen to experience turbulence try taking your seatbelt off. Shoot a little adrenaline through your body and ride the plane without safety. Disregard caution and live life as a risk. There is some stupid shit in the world that you can do, but otherwise if you aren't exploring the limits of the human body and the planet beneath your feet, what are you doing? What are you doing? I was just practicing my specialty moves with a little ju jitsu thrown in there. I was just sitting down eating this banana with chocolate, peanut butter and graham crackers. I was just trying this trick that seems impossible but it's not. What's it called? A rodeo 7. Try it. Try this and that. You haven't adapted until you try. It tastes good doesn't it? After a while you get used to it, enjoy it more, and pretty soon you can call it your own candy.

workshopping

Hey All...

I just wanted to comment on our work-shopping in class on Tuesday. As a member of group 2, I thought we did a pretty good job. It is always intimidating to read out aloud in front of a group, especially when it is your personal work. I think working with only half of the class helped raise the comfort level. The four poems we work-shopped were all really different from one another. That made the workshop much more interesting. Everyone took "Candy and Medicine" to mean different things. There were a variety of subjects, rhythms, organizations and styles. When the subjects vary from turkey vultures to shibby, you know it is going to be interesting. 

As for the comments we gave to the author, I think they were well thought-out. No one offended anyone else, but we were able to give one another constructive criticism. It is really cool when a group of kids can critique each other's work and still be friendly afterwards. Now that we are comfortable with the workshop process, it should go smoothly. 

Also, I found that the critiques I had written about the poem changed drastically when the poems were read aloud. Everything sounds totally different when you hear it from another voice. Reading poetry to yourself does not quite do it justice.

Hope tomorrow goes as well as Tuesday!

Science and Literature

"Math and science make us advanced. They are what move us forward. But language and literature are what make us human. They're what make us who we are."

Freeman A Hrabowski, III

I stumbled across this quote today and it made a lot of sense to me. My entire life I've been drawn to the disciplines of science and english, and I've struggled to decide which discipline to focus on while at SLU. I've always been curious about why things are the way they are and I'm never content to accept an explanation without first looking into it myself. I am curious about scientific questions, such as why ice floats on water and how global warming is explained on an environmental scientific scale. But I am also curious about questions that I can find answered between the pages of a book, such as how social norms have changed throughout history. When it comes down to it, I guess I would prefer a good piece of literature to a scientific article, and this is because literature does "make us human."  If you look back at old texts, human nature is the same.  There is always good and evil, attraction between people, and a general desire for happiness and safety. Since we are as human as the authors who wrote all the books, plays, and poems of the past, it is possible to relate to their characters in some degree whether we agree with the views/actions of the characters or not. It is this ability of human beings to relate to literature that gives it timeless power and the ability to evoke powerful emotion. 

Week 4 (and 3...)

I cant believe I forgot to post last week... and almost this week. I've enjoyed reading everyone's posts, and wished I had remembered to say something on September 11th. It was interesting to see how many people have very distinct memories of that day. I remember too- 9th grade, third period, global studies...then it all was a big blur after that. However, I think it was good we recognized what happened 7 years ago and the results of it.
We workshopped Assignment 2 in class today, which I think was very beneficial. I really enjoy reading other people's peoms, and like the fact that you can get so many different opinions and suggestions on your own work. Today turned out to be a pretty emotional day after reading my poem, but my group assured me that it was great that I could still feel emotion about it. They told me that was what good poetry is about. Originally, I had been dreading this day because I thought my poem was awful and was embarrassed to share, but they helped me see the positive side and prevented me from feeling ashamed for any longer. Now I see the benefits to group workshopping. I also like how the writer has to sit and listen to others discuss their work...I think that was the most helpful (and most uplifting) part for me.

Looking back on September 11th

It has been a few days since the 7th anniversary of September 11th and I think its passing went too  quickly. As a freshman last year, I expected there to be a ceremony or a service of some kind to remember those lost on September 11th. I was really disappointed. Everyone has their own memory of the day and many people still grieve today. My uncle was in the Navy and worked in the Pentagon as a Navy intelligence officer. He was killed when Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon. This year was the dedication of the huge memorial outside of the Pentagon. It immortalizes every single person killed in the Pentagon and each individual on Flight 77. The memorial consists of 184 (the number of people lost on the flight and in the building) benches. Each bench has the person's name and they are arranged in order of age- the youngest being a three year old girl who was flying on Flight 77. The memorial was just opened to the public on the evening of the 11th after a private ceremony for the family members of those who died. My entire family, aside from those of us in college, went to D.C. to see the dedication. That made it even harder for me to be at SLU. I missed an important day of remembrance and instead was sent an e-mail saying "to light a candle" or take "a moment of silence." I feel as though a school on the east coast of America, where all events on September 11th, 2001 took place, we could do a lot better at remember the nearly 3,000 lives lost seven years ago.  I know most everyone on campus remembered in their own way, and two on this blog. I think the more we write about September 11th and the more we talk about it, the more respect that towards those who lost their lives that day. 

A Day Outside

On really beautiful days like today (Thursday), I begin to think about the things that inspire me to live. This society is not always the easiest place for one to be in if what one really wants out of life is just to exist. What’s so wrong about that? Why have the capitalist motivations become such a do or die aspect of our society? College: damned if you don’t, financially damned if you do—unless you have enough money up front to blow on this four year getaway without worrying about acquiring $200,000 worth of loans along with your top-of-the-line education . But it is what you make it, of course, and maybe that’s worth nearly quarter of a million dollars worth of debt. Right. Back to my main idea anyway—what inspires me to live (and write poetry) despite being caught in a culture and time in which I could only feel more out of place if I had grown up in an entirely different society and been dropped here yesterday. Days like today inspire me. “Sun is shining, weather is sweet,” as Bob Marley might say. But when it rains I feel inspired too. The time frame of change is what inspires me. I don’t have a favorite season; I just like to experience the in between time. A bender is fun in the beginning, but it’s old by the end. Clearing the film from one’s vision after the bender is new and exciting too, but that excitement always wanes as well. Change is scary. It gets my heart racing. The ever present possibility for unexpected change keeps me nervous and attentive. And don’t forget—we all die someday, so make today the best day of your life until you have the chance to do the same tomorrow.

Looking back on today.

I write today not about poetry but in remembrance. It has been 7 years ago today since the attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and also United Flight 93, which landed in Pennsylvania. My prayers go out to all of humanity today. It’s interesting remembering back 7 years ago as the blogger below me (Emily) has provoked me to do. I am originally from Connecticut, a state where the majority of businessmen and women commute the short 45-minute train ride into NYC every business day. However, the year of the attack I was living in Massachusetts. I remember being in history class and looking up at the clock. My class ended at exactly at 8:45 am. Only ONE minute before the attack on the first tower of the World Trade Center happened. My school tried to withhold the information of the attacks as late in the day as possible, but teachers began protesting that idea and forced the administration to alert the students. They finally did and at 1:25 pm, I found out about the September 11th attacks. School was let out early, and for the first time in a long time both of my parents were at the bus stop waiting to pick me up. My dad worked in Boston in the Prudential building, the state authorities claimed that his building was the #1 Boston building at risk (because of its height) and therefore asked to clear the building and go home until further notice. I remember walking down my cul-de-sac and feeling my mom’s hands tremble. The rest of the day, my family of six sat together and watched news reports, video clips, and discussed the events of the day. There were no play dates, no sports practices, and no meetings. It was just us, trying to piece together everything that had happened. So, today when I look back, it seems crazy to me that it’s been 7 years, because I really can (and I'm sure others do to) remember like it happened yesterday.

Blog: 9/11/08
I woke up this morning and was brutally reminded that I am in upstate New York. After attempting to walk to Dana with shorts and flip flops on, I realized now that I can no longer walk around like I do on the boardwalk down the shore. (yes, in New Jersey) Well anyway, time to break out the socks, boots, long sleeve shirts and fleeces. After checking my email account this morning and reading about the community service events on campus, and the poetry readings about peace and hope, I have also realized that there is a method to the madness of this world. Today is September 11, and although I was never personally affected in any way from the attacks, my memory scrambled back to that day. I live in a working-class town in New Jersey that is about 15 miles outside of Manhattan. So if you can imagine, a lot of the economy revolves around jobs that are provided in NYC. I went to a regional public elementary and high school that included four towns in the county I lived in. In 7th grade, I could never have grasped the capacity of the news when the principal came on the speaker and made us aware of the planes that “crashed into the twin towers,” so I kept on chit-chatting with my friends during art class. It was only when the principal was frantically calling down children to the office to be picked up to go home that I realized this was something more serious than I originally thought. Because I have no immediate family that worked in the World Trade Centers, my mother decided to keep me in school. After taking the school bus home from school that day, my mother urgently rushed us into the car and drove up to one of the streets in our town that has magnificent views of the NYC skylines. Looking upset and in denial, she sat us down as we witnessed the aftermath of the attacks on the twin towers. Two huge masses of black smoke were rushing up into the sky as helicopters and planes crowded the sky hoping to deter any future attacks that could’ve taken place. Because I had witnessed the physical effects of the world trade center attacks before viewing it on the television, I feel that I had more of a personal impact of the event. Although it has been 7 years today since the attack, it only seems that time has been the healing factor for many who have lost loved ones in the attack or the Iraq war. Thinking about the current state of affairs in America today really has humbled my thoughts about the minute and bothersome details of my life that bother me, such as not preparing for the chilly weather, or losing my campus id card. Things that really don’t matter.

Writing a Poem

Writing a poem is always an interesting process for me. I have to start with a though, it could be a concept to write about, a line I like, or something that happened, just something to spark my mind. Then from my starting point I either jump off and spit it out or write a couple lines and get stuck. The one factor that affects me the most I think is my mood. I have to be in a certain mind set to write a poem or else it just won’t seem to come out. I think that is in the nature of writing poetry. For me it is something that is very intertwined with emotion so that it just can’t be rendered from thin air. It must come from within me. Writing a poem also takes a very deep level of thought and involvement. You can’t just casually spit out the lines of a poem; each word requires thought and consideration. My FYP was The Expression and Psychology of Creativity and we learned about the concept of “flow”. Experiencing flow is like “being in the zone”; you are just on top of your game. A person can experience flow when they are engaging in an activity that is difficult enough to pose a challenge, but easy enough so as the person does not become frustrated. I think a good poet writing a poem experiences flow. I think this concept of flow is what makes writing a poem for me such a natural task or dragged out struggle.

This and That

I’m working on my “Candy and Medicine” poem and having a bit of trouble with the candy part. Like Theo said, there will nearly always be medicine where there is candy. Usually my poems are anywhere from one line to twelve, so the length is a little strange to me, I feel like I’ve dragged out a point for too long or that my audience will tire of my writing after a dozen lines of nonsense, so I’m trying to make this poem more fluid. I tend to jump from thought to thought without a clear transition but I’m working on it.
On another tangent, it bothers me when I’m writing a poem and I have to pause for whatever reason and when I return to it, the mood I was in is gone and it’s quite evident in the work. On the other hand, “Kubla Khan” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge was an example of how poems that are never concluded can be extremely good. Taylor supposedly dreamed of Kubla Khan and then awoke and wrote it down as fast as he could but before he finished, he was called away and when he came back, the dream was gone from his mind so he couldn't finish it. That’s one of the coolest stories I have ever heard…
Indiana Jones 4 was pretty unexciting to me. Harrison Ford’s is still a beautiful man, though.

blog 2

So far, I have found the longer articles we read to be very confusing and hard to decipher, but really enjoyed the poetry. I also really enjoy that our class is so diverse in opinion. It is always interesting to hear another person's take on a poem because everyone comes up with such different ideas. 

Personally, one of my favorite and one of the most touching poems we have read is "A Story About The Body" by Robert Hass. I never expected such a lovey-dovey poem to take a harsh and superficial turn. I assume the woman in the poem had breast cancer and therefore a mastectomy. After I read it myself, I had a difficult time understanding how a man could act like that. I did the 3-DAY walk for breast cancer research this summer in Chicago. I walked with many breast cancer survivors and many of whom no longer had breasts. To me, their spirit and strength was sexy and inspiring. If I were someone married to a breast cancer survivor, I would celebrate them and be impressed and supportive of their battle and triumph with cancer. But, i guess when you are a "young" man, a woman without breasts is not what you are looking for. I hope that most men, as they age, realize that there is much more to being a woman than a pair of breasts. That surviving cancer is sexy. So, what I am saying, is I hope that no man thinks like the young composer in "A Story About The Body."

I thought the various Bluebeard poems were all very interesting. I have read different versions of the fairy tale, and I could see them present in the poems. I was thinking about the part in Carryl's poem where the woman has time to send telegrams to her brothers. I remember that in one of the versions I read, the woman begs for Bluebeard to give her time. He gives her until dawn or something. During that time she sends for her family to come rescue her. I can't remember if she is successfully rescued or not though. But i think her begging him for more time is the part that is missing from the poem, not that it should be in the poem.
I found it extremely difficult to write a poem that had only candy at the end of our last class. I really just sat there thinking about it. I really only got down a few words. I don't think I would like ready a poem that is all candy. I kind of feel like what is the point if there is no medicine to go along with it. I feel like reading a poem that was all candy would leave you with questions or a feeling of loss. There really needs to be a balance of both.

When I sat down to write this blog entry, I immediately thought about the Bluebeard stories and poems we read for our first assignment. I think the use and continuation of the Bluebeard story in various forms of prose and poetry is very interesting and I'm curious about what lent the story such power over the years and what inspired writers and poets to keep coming back to the story. Was it the fear inspiring images of death, or the themes of secrecy, obedience, and betrayal that lent the poem its power? As we discussed in class, the story has raised issues, problems, and anxieties that are still present in our own society, such as trust issues, secrecy, betrayal, and issues of gender and sexuality. People are probably still drawn to this story because of its thrilling nature but also because of these aspects, present in our own society , which it brings to light. People are most likely also drawn to the story because they can relate to the story's characters, either by identifying with the female character(s), or by identifying with the jealousy or anger of bluebeard. For example, it seems that the treatment of women in the story has rendered Bluebeard a common reference point for women poets writing about suffering or loss of self in  a relationship, as shown in Sylvia Plath's Bluebeard, and Maya Angelou's Detached. 

Dorian Gray

All the talks we’ve had have really played one thing in my head. My favorite book is A picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde. All of the discussions about Bluebeard’s closets especially brought up parallels. The closets were mirrors of the soul, and Dorian’s picture was representative of his soul. Without giving anything away, the book really explored the connections well. By comparing and connecting our “souls” to physical objects, we can really consider and contemplate the idea of a “soul.” Is the soul a mirror of our choices? Or does our soul proscribe our behavior? Can you see the soul in the physical body, or does the body affect the soul? Obviously we should try to define the soul first, but I believe we can only study and describe its effects, not its shape or nature directly. The soul doesn’t need to be spiritual, it could be a form of character. It’s like having soul in a music piece, or real feel.

Dorian had an interesting relationship with his soul, both closer and farther than most. We can learn so much if we only spend time getting to “know” our souls. Maybe through Zen, maybe through self-search. Maybe we can learn our souls by looking at our selves in new ways. What happens when you search your self? You see things you don’t like. Things that others can asses easily. Hopefully you’re not too far gone to change a bit here or there. Maybe it doesn’t matter… I’ll bet it does. Whatever you call it, a soul is a soul, and that’s not something to take lightly.

Read A Picture of Dorian Gray.

I liked the little assignment that we had at the end of last class where we had to write a poem with only pleasure, or candy, and no medicine. I realized that it's really hard to do that! I ended up just writing a lot of words that make me think of happy things or things that I enjoy, because every time I started a sentence, it sounded like I was forming a thought which sounded more like medicine then candy. So I guess you can't have the candy without the medicine unless you really really work for it, and then, once you've worked for it so hard, you've probably had a medicinal experience in a way, an experience that was good for you, so it's impossible to have pleasure without value. That can be applied to life in general, also. Everything happens for a reason...But anyways, after getting only a little sidetracked, that assignment was an eye opener for me. I also agree that class outside was wonderful, but it's raining right now, so that might not be good tomorrow, but hopefully that'll make the classroom cooler! I'm getting nervous about having people read my poetry because I'm pretty sure it's very bad.

Candy and Medicine

The only real relationship between candy and medicine that I can find is this: if you eat too much candy, you will need to take some medicine.  I get the idea of pleasures and values in writing, but I think treating the two icons as candy and medicine makes the comparrison easier to grasp.  Sure, as an author you want to give the reader a treat, maybe some chocolate or toffee to real them in, but if you give them too many sweets and they get sick, they won't come back for more.  So you need to give your piece some balance - the medicine - something that will make sure no matter how many sweets they eat, their teeth will not rot.  Maybe the medicine will be a warning to pace yourselves at the candy store, or to pass on that last scoop of ice cream for dessert.  No matter what values the author tries to incorporate, that is the message that will last in the reader.  Because the candy only tastes good for a few minutes, but if you get sick, you will feel that for days. 

ni hao

i concur on the outside class. it increases my attention span along with comfort. Im still entirely unsure of what to write on this blog deal. Im listening to Deltron 3030 who if you are unfamiliar with,  is a hiphop artist. His album, 3030, has a futuristic plot. Some songs take place in the year 3030, others just speak of the furure. Future. However, that typo “furure” reminded me of a fuhrer and thus led my thought process to the movie V for Vendetta which I have watched recently.  In that movie the character V has many scenes where he recites poetry, focusing on words with the letter V. I would suggest this for one of our poems we do in the last 5 imnutes of class, but I feel like its too short time to write a good poem that people like myself would have to research/study words to write. I personally do want to write a poem like this and hopefully will soon if I can either get into the mood or motivate myself to. The only things I can really motivate myself to go do are skateboarding, snowboarding, listen to music and other small pleasures. I have trouble doin anything else. see everyone around.

Week 2

Just finished writing my terrible Candy and Medicine poem, so I thought I'd finish my poetry work and submit my 200 words for Week 2. I feel like I just wrote the most awful poem. It was hard for me to think of something happy or funny to write about...everything I thought of didn't work out. I was going to write about being mistaken for being 14 all the time, or how a customer I waited on at work this summer thought I was 12, but it didn't work out because that's not really candy. Not a very fun or happy experience. I feel like all the stuff I write is so literal that we would never be able to have the conversations we do in class because you would know exactly what I was saying and exactly the emotion I was feeling. Anyone else have trouble?
On a happier note, so far I'm enjoying the things we've read in class and enjoying the discussions we're having. It's good to hear everyone's interpretation of the readings, and I like hearing how someone's opinion is the exact opposite of what I was thinking. It's nice that so many people participate and people don't refrain from talking. I've taken classes before where nobody talks, which makes it so much harder.
Hope everyone had a good weekend...see you Tuesday!

PS- Lets have class outside again. That room is a damn sauna.

i thought i posted but i guess not...

My name is Meredith Clynes (Marvelous Meredith). I'm the one who sat on the end by the
door and blushed a lot (family curse). I'm majoring in psychology and minoring in gender
studies and sociology. I've discovered that I don't like my major as much as my minors.
I have become much more interested in the minors, especially gender studies. If anyone
out there has not taken a gender class yet, I really recommend it. I do like psychology
because it shows me the reason people act the way they do and gives you a broader
understanding of not only things like psychological disorders and whatnot, but the
psychology behind sports, behavior of animals and people, etc. I love gender studies
because those are the classes that have opened my eyes to the close mindedness of so many
people. I think I have become a much better and more understanding person after taking
gender and soc classes, which I think is an important result of college classes.

I'm from Glens Falls, NY near the Adirondack Mountains. Glens Falls is considered
upstate NY, and is also considered a "city". I feel like Glens Falls is hardly a city,
but I love it anyway because the people are nice, always say hello, and I'm comfortable
there. I live with my parents, my identical twin sister, and my golden retriever Leon,
who was a Hurricane Katrina dog that we rescued.

Aside from writing, I like to run, cross country ski, read, and be with family, friends,
and animals. Eating and sleeping are also my interests, perhaps my favorite interests.

I've had good experiences getting feedback on the writing I've done at SLU, but seeing as
this will only be my third English class here, I feel I don't have as much experience as
others. Sometimes people have missed the point or the underlying message of my writing
completely, but I can't be upset because I know I've done that before myself. I also
think people are sometimes too scared to "offend" another person's work, so they wont
tell their true opinion.

I'm more into reading non fiction, and haven't read a lot of poetry. Actually, I've read
none since I've been here, but had to write a lot in my Masculinities class last
semester. But when I was little Dr. Seuss, Shel Silverstein, and the person who wrote
poetry for "Something Big Has Been Here" were always my favorites.

I feel poetry is good when you can empathize with the reader. Reading any work where
I've had a similar experience makes it easy to understand and feel better that somewhere,
someone else has felt the same as you at one point. Although I haven't read much poetry,
I can relate it to nonfiction. I like when nonfiction flows well, keeps you interested,
and makes you upset when you reach the end.

In this class I'd like to learn how to be comfortable with myself enough to write what I
really feel. I'd like to learn how to analyze poetry and how to offer better comments
and suggestions to poetry instead of fiction and nonfiction. As Joanna said before, I
would also like to keep revising even though I think revising may ruin the poem. I'm
very stubborn, so when I think something is right then I don't want to change it, and I
need to step away from that.

Pop Bottles

Whats kickin all, I’m Drew. I’m first going to say I am horrific at typing properly due to a lot of reasons, so I know you’ll all forgive all the unpunctuated and unCAPITALIZED words and whatnot in this blog. I also have no idea what a blog is or how to use it. I study art and will probably major in it because I don’t really care about almost any other subject ive encountered. Art is great for me because I like to be creative and I like creative people and ideas. Thus led to my interest in music for the past few years. As many will say I cant live my life without music and I probably couldn’t. I got really into music a few years ago, and never had any older siblings or parents that listen to music other then a cd here or there, so everything I listen to is purely because I explore it on my own. I love guitar and bass, but really just anyone who masters their craft whether it be any instrument or anything. The reason I am in this class today is because I used to hate hip hop. Nothing about it appealed to me until this past summer I took a trip to cape cod with a buddy for a skim boarding excursion and became addicted to “we make it rain remix” by Fat Joe. It was just so comical to me that we played it probably more than 50 times in a few days. And it was mostly Lil waynes part that cause my attention and interested me. So after that week I got a bunch of GOOD hiphop songs from a friend and began to read some poetry. With instruments it was the technical ability of the musician that I was into, and with hip hop I just became fascinated with rhymes and metaphors and all the things I absolutely hate from English class. It was kind of ironic. So I began to listen to a lot of the rhymes of the music and came across a poet named Harryette Mullen, a black poet with a very unique style. I also was recommended to Terrance Hayes. I have read many of Harryette’s poems and only a few of Terrance Hayes’, but they fascinated me. I tried to blend different styles of hip hop artists and those poets and began to write some lyrics/poetry. Back to the list, I’m from VT and its amazing and terrible. I loved the time there but wouldn’t mind not going back. I am a skateboarder and a snowboarder, a martial artist and now I suppose I write song lyrics, or poetry until I record them with music, but im terrible at writing music so I need to find someone to make beats and I can rhyme over. I’ve had good feedback on my work, but I feel like some of the time my friends were being nice. I can read people fairly well and I know when they genuinely liked my work, and the songs that they weren’t too wild about or that nothing stuck out to catch their attention. I feel kind of cliché saying my influences due to my hip hop interest/style and lack of knowledge about poets and poetry in history. I am greatly influenced by Lil Wayne because of his connections he can draw and his metaphors. He is also good at talking about how badass he is and it humors me. His gangsta money songs to catch my attention too much but some of his stuff I really like. Wu-Tang Clan is another. Everyone in Wu-Tang has great flow. Method Man, Ghostface Killah, and Ol Dirty Bastard are the three of the Clan I know best. However, I am currently becoming more acquainted with the rest of the clan being RZA, GZA, Raekwon, U-God, Inspectah Deck, and the lesser known Masta Killa. Immortal Technique is one of my favorite hip hop artists because of how creative he can be with his “raw” rhymes. He is amazing at freestyling and kicks arse in battles. Immortal is a very political figure and has a lot of strong points in his songs. Deltron 3030 is a huge figure for writing to me because he uses off beat large, intelligent words and metaphors and doesn’t buy into the whole gangster thing even though he is Ice Cube’s cousin. The hip hop influences are too numerous to mention, obviously BIG, tupac, gang starr, sage francis, nas and plenty more. I want to learn about the different kinds of poets and poetry that I don’t know about, which is pretty much everything and incorporate it into my style of poetry. My style being the slam poetry/hip hop type stuff. I believe that if you want to do something, you need to learn everything about it because Robert Frost can influence me to write something in a hip hop style and I think blending styles, and being creative is the key to unique poetry/art. PEACE.

Ciao fellow poets! Today is a beautiful day. I'm thoroughly happy to be back at St. Lawrence for another two semesters of learning, spending time with close friends, and potential love. Many questions that I have asked myself so have spawned from the memories of last school year, and events that took place over the summer. That is why poetry is so beautiful. It allows the mind to dig away at relationships from completely different worlds of time to inspire creation. I have found music to be another agent of positive creation for me, as well as a relief of stress. After a long summer, I have officially declared English as my major. I’m not sure exactly why I chose English, but I have always been interested in the beauty of language as far as self-expression. I especially enjoy reading poems by writers such as William Woodsworth and Robert Frost. “Silken Tent” happens to be my favorite poem at the moment. After reading it carefully, it is truly moving because it shows fondness and love for a woman while avoiding the classic clichés that would make it a “bad” poem. I feel that it also gives true inspiration for those who defy the norm and live a carefree life. Writing with this type of poetry form is one that I aspire to reach. Best!

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I am a junior here at SLU this year and last year I decided to major in English Literature. English has always been one of my favorite subjects. It just stuck with me through my time here as well. One of the first classes I took at SLU was Asian American fiction. I ended up being the only student in that class. I would read the books on the list and discuss them with my professor. I really liked learning about different cultures and people through literature. I'm pretty sure that's when I decided to be an English major. I came to SLU all the way from California. I'm from LA where there are all different types of people. I think it's a very interesting place to live. Something is always going on, and there is always traffic and noise. Back in California, I swam competitively for ten years. I don't really swim that much now, but I still love being in the water. I go to the beach a lot when I am home. Besides swimming, I really like to sing. My dad is a musician, and he has a recording studio in the garage. I've done some work with him. I'm actually on one of his Cd's which I think is pretty cool. Mainly I just sing for fun and I have broken out in song at the pub.
I don't know a lot about poetry. I don't remember spending that much time on it in my high school English classes either. Besides Shakespeare, I remember reading Edgar Allan Poe and really liking his work. I just like how he wrote many creepy poems and tales. I really like dark and twisted stories. I'm not sure how to classify if a poem is "good" or not. After all everyone is different, but I think a "good" poem would evoke some emotion or get someone to think about a certain topic. When poetry is "good," I think the reader gains something from reading it. In this class, I want to learn more about the schools and different styles found in poetry. I also want to work on my own writing skills. I haven't done much creative writing and I think this class will be a fun way to explore that. I really hope to learn more about myself and others. I also want to learn how to give good feedback and be able to receive it. I have had mainly good experiences when receiving feedback from teachers and professors. Usually they would point out what I needed to work on, but they would also focus on what I did well. However, I haven't spent much time giving or receiving feedback from other students. I am kind of nervous about that.

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Namasté, I’m Carrie McAuliffe. I’m a junior here at St. Lawrence, and I’m studying to be an English major. No, I don’t really enjoy reading books. I’m actually into teaching both grammar and the linguistics of English as a language. I hope to one day become an ESL teacher (English as a Second Language) and teach students in other countries outside of the United States.
Originally I am from the Town of Fairfield, Connecticut, in (what I didn’t know was so well known, but I guess is) Fairfield County. What’s it like there? Well, I can’t really put it into words so I suggest if you really want to know you should probably Wikipedia it. The definition is dead on with what it’s like there (an affluent “Suburbia”). Of course that’s in my opinion, some of my fellow townspeople could boast and brag about it for days, but if I do someday raise a family it will probably be somewhere else. Aside from living in Fairfield, and wanting to teach English I love mostly to travel, as well as paint or draw, play lacrosse, swim, read, play videogames, and go running. I also love being in my sorority on campus, being an active member has been one the highlights of my time here at St. Larry’s.
As a whole I’ve had some pretty good constructive criticism on my writing, however all the writing I have done up to this point has been (for the most part) ALL research essays. I’ve never been able to free write like I am today on this blog, except in my Global News Media Analysis class I took last semester (and highly recommend it to anyone and everyone!). Therefore, most of the feedback I’ve been given has been about grammatical structure, remembering to keep the same tense constant in a written work, citing my sources correctly and making sure to revise my writing before submitting the final draft.
I wouldn’t say that I am a fan of poetry because at this moment, I’m not. The only real poetry I have read, explored, and admired are Shakespeare’s sonnets. This being the case, I have no real way to judge who is my favorite poet because, as I said, Shakespeare is really the only person I’ve read. Nonetheless, I’ve always been in awe of Shakespeare’s brilliance portrayed in his play on words, and lyrical rhyming.
I think the best part about good poetry is when the reader finishes a poem and his/her eyes leave the page feeling what the author intends him/her to feel. It could be any kind of emotion, the poem just has to evoke something from the reader. That is, in my opinion, a precious gift that I think good poetry and in general good writing offers it's readers.
To be completely honest, I really only took this poetry class to broaden my knowledge in the English field, and to have a basic understanding of poets and the format and structure of poetry. I hope to learn a few things about poets (especially the important names I should already know), the do's and don'ts on writing poems, and the history behind writing poems. I hope to get some questions answers to my never-ending series of questions like, “when was the first poem written and who wrote it?” I don't know if after this class I'll be a poetry fanatic, or appreciate poetry more than other things, however I'm not one to judge what the future holds and I am always open to change!

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Sept 1st, 2008.
This is my Sophomore year at SLU, and I am studying art, poetry, and psychology. In short I study subjects that interest me, but what does that mean? I like art because it is tangible and physical. Even so, while drawing is physical, it is also removed, it is reflexive and an interesting filter. Art -to me- is an act of basic creation. Maybe the reason I love art, and other subjects like it, is explained by my home. I grew up on a lake, at the perfect summer and winter house. The community was small and tight nit, and my parents raised me by creating an open and understanding atmosphere of growth. Home is where I learned to hike, to walk, to run, to sit, to ski, and more recently to enjoy days in and of themselves. After high school I left home and went to some outdoor schools and worked. I feel that my most important experiences involving feedback, where in these situations. Needless to say, rock climbing, hiking, skiing and even carpentry can involve dangerous situations. At these times and after, I was given, and I gave important critics. I learned to hand out and take feedback constructively, and how to appropriately internalize it. I am lucky to feel quite comfortable with these skills now. I have learned a lot about my self, gained confidence with practice, and I understand the importance of feedback.

To this date the most important poet in my life has been Shel Silverstein. Granted, I haven’t read much but he is still my clear favorite. Shel’s poems have two distinct aspects that appeal to me. On the one hand many are funny and humorous, which is a usually produced through content or narrative. On the other hand, he had subjects and stories that I grew with and learned from. I can’t imagine a better legacy. I can’t tell you what makes poetry that I’ve read “good” or “bad,” or even tell you what I’ve read. But in my few years of school I have read poetry, and I can tell you what I liked. I like imagery that uses the imagination, I like surprises, I like puns. “Good” poetry makes me laugh, for whatever reason. “Good” poetry also makes me think, and (not because of the thinking) can make me depressed. “Good” poetry sticks with you. “Good” poetry describes you, or something in a new or old way. “Good” poetry is good. Shel’s poems fit these markers on every level. This is why I want to learn how to organize a poem. I want to break free from rhyming. I would love to describe something close to me, with more accessible language. I want to write poems I am proud of, and I want to do it again and again. -Alex Comeau-