Poem 1: Write a poem that depends on one striking image. Avoid abstraction and rhetoric. Let the poem convey a feeling or idea it never directly states.TA Steve Wilard, wanted his students to do an additional 7 poems for fun. For the portfolio, we had to edit our 7 poems. Also, Steve Willard wanted us students to put them in an order that we felt would give the most sense to our portfolio. Can you tell which poem is which topic and which poem (s) are extra?
Poem 2: Write a poem which incorporates musical or rhythmic devices to propel that poem forward (anaphora, meter, etc.). Listen to your favorite song and try to recreate the musical elements in language.
Poem 3: Write a sonnet, sestina, villanelle, or ghazal. Though I recommend learning the traditional form, you may re-interpret the form a la Ted Berrigan and Ron Padgett.
Poem 4: Write an ekphrastic poem (a poem based on/or influenced by another work of art).
Poem 5: Write a poem that engages with your environment (La Jolla/San Diego).
Poem 6: Write a serial poem of at least 5 sections. The subject/theme of the poem should be carried throughout each section.
Poem 7: Write a found poem, in which your text is taken entirely from sources outside yourself. This can be a “flarf” poem (using google as your source), a poem taken from overheard language, a poem from television dialogue, or even a poem composed from text messages or twitter.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Can you tell which one is which?
Professor James Meetze taught LTWR8B in Spring 2009 at UCSD. He assigned for his students to write 7 poems in 7 weeks. We had to write them according to the topic of the week.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Last Minute Mistakes
The sun glimmers through the window.
I am fully aware of the time.
The computer clock reads 7:03 AM.
To the district I must be at close to 7:30AM to make sure that I will be in class at 10.
Still confused how this second poem crept so slowly when its predecessor came so quick and sure on Saturday.
Yesterday was defined by face to pillow.
A strange feeling of exhaustion and illness has conspired against me.
Insane thirst and emptiness.
Perhaps breakfast will help.
But I, the single resident, have not yet gained the sense to select breakfast items.
So I will eat the wrong thing now, sugary and empty, and will crash even further later.
But, who can argue when they must have already been gone?
Half the Words
Words down on paper I am usually quite able.
Appreciative of receiving a very fantastic break.
Incessant uncertainty that seems to collect.
Writing allows me the opportunity to differ.
For me writing is more than just an end.
Its a start of being perceived as found.
The opportunity to create a sort of foundry.
At the poet’s mercy, this new language enables.
The power within their grip to be the ender.
The poet becomes both the fixer and breaker.
A poem’s reader must remember indifference.
A very important quality to recollect.
Fiction ignites in the author a thirst for collecting.
Only limited by wild fantasy, a Newfoundland.
For the readers delight, a place different.
Whether one of the most inept or ablest.
The right of interpretation is unbreakable.
From the first page to where the story ends.
My 2 classes supply writing passion unending.
Hopes of becoming a professional writer in collections.
A dream worth chasing even in times of heartbreak.
It’s not a life wasted if I am the founder.
And without words I will likely be disabled.
Not writing is entirely an unimaginable differential.
Whether understanding is similarly or differingly.
A process that has no real explored ending.
In communication it is good to strive to be enablers.
Power of writing transforms us into collectors.
Opportunity to treat every idea as newfound.
Carrying on tradition and being groundbreaking.
Remember to take all of the necessary breaks.
World in new lenses (Try hard to think differently.)
Remember to stay on the topic you founded.
Not obliged to begin from where you last ended.
Very good to remain cool, calm, and collected.
Good health is the best way to become writing enabled.
I hope this literary break can help any writer’s block end.
Many opinions differ. Those also please collect.
Many cures to be found. Mostly motivation makes a writer able.
City in Defiance
A land of exceptional beauty.
Green, gentle, and diverse.
Flora and fauna in interesting terms.
Flora Fauna
fabricated naturality hidden and seen
Birds dominate the explicit population,
Brought in from around the state,
Around the country,
Around the world.
The bird song reigns in the morning
Implanted to delight the eyes and nostrils.
With subtle lies.
Beckoning forgetfulness of the desert climate.
Seagulls claim territory around coasts,
Freeways that twist and turn highlighting magnificence.
Sometimes murders of crows appear.
Attempting to capture the wonder of Germany’s Autobahn.
Without the opportunity of break-neck speeds.
Once in a while an unknown bird of prey circles the air.
In Jail
Y o u ’ r e g o i n g t o g e t n o t h i n g.
Look at me!
If you scream,
You’re going to get nothing.
Chris Brooks?
Blu-blu-blu-blu-blu-blu-blu-blu.
Are you Chris Brooks?
Blu-blu-blu.
Diana, you were really mean to him.
I don’t know.
Look, please give it to me.
Da me los cinco.
I gave it to momma.
I’m not playing with you. I’m an unhappy camper!
Want to do twinkle twinkle?
John?
I’m on the phone, please wait.
The itsy bitsy spider.
Chris, do you remember where it is? No, don’t take your shoe off.
Can I call you back?
Salmon Roll
Po-
ssibly
deadly skate-
board with income-
petent long haired male
Caucasian on top. Barreled
down UCSD’s Dr. Seuss tribute’s
southwest hill. Semi-present with pings
from hunger, I. Struggled to walk upward
by the colony of bike racks. Curiously taken
by the sight of a bear turbulently swimming down
into a stream saturated with salmon.Hundreds of cen-
timeters from contact. Frozen.My eyes flashed to capture
his. Windows expressed temporary vacation away from re-
ality into own thoughts.Spurred by strange visage, right foot
and hand pulled in to rendezvous with the rest of physical me.
Eyes tightly closed. Body winced. Imagined pain. In a micro eyes
opened and head shook at previous unnecessary reaction. I contin-
ued to swim. Mere inches traversed upward. Piercing female scream.
I stopped in tracks. Proven to be a faithful salmon, I continued upward.
Suddenly I metamorphized into an American shad and about faced. Asian
female bent over in the vicinity of Imprints on library walk.Was rubbing out
the soreness of her ankle. Surely on the verge of tears. Apologetic and con-
fused Caucasian gathered lonely skateboard. Female forgave in spite of pain.
Denied Asian male friend.Had suggested to visit health office to get checked
out.Apology and suggestion respectively repeated.Again forgiven and denied.
I stared direct and critical at careless Caucasian again confronted by a look of
loss.Silver Surfer mounted on not so trusty steed.Rode off. Northerly tempest
expected to cover more transitioning inhabitants of Library Walk. Blanket of
distortion and dread. Accepting victim limped leaning on friend in same direc-
tion. The parting of party closed curtain. Drama seeking bystanders dispersed.
Departurting from Dickens
An episode of South Park I was fortunate to see.
One surrounding Pip’s life before the show.
Great Expectations, the life that Pip might know.
Strange is Dickens with South Park absurdity.
The tale seems quite simple enough.
Boy meets girl.
Boy pines.
Girl brainwashed by sour aunt and incites passion.
then remorse.
Absorbing mystery behind love and beauty portrayed,
What happens when one is in love and left dismayed.
South Park awakened desire to see the movie.
Twelve years ago the previews ran often on TV.
Water fountain kiss clung hard to my fantasy.
Tongue touching youths an unusual extreme.
Inevitably returned to the back of my mind,
Out of necessity of maintaining my daily grind,
How curious it was an ekprhasis poem assigned,
The following Sunday the film’s glow shined.
A film starring Ethan Hawke and Gwyneth Paltrow,
Tell the modernized tale inspired by Charles Dickens.
Probably a response to modernized Juliet and Romeo.
Set in the 20C USA, there are no horses or chickens.
Crime and Passion
“I would appreciate this fiasco,
If I had something to do with its start.”
The words aptly stated by the sweet Margo.
Her hand pressed tenderly beside her heart.
Stinging tears run down cheeks of porcelain.
Mascara ruined and maybe her life,”
In this world there would have been no fortune,
Greater than being Lamont Cranston’s wife.”
Her thoughts are disturbed by a glowing ring,
The marker that Lamont would not arrive,
Nights for love have no room for crime fighting,
She puts out candles hoping he’s alive.
Margo detects the scent of fresh roses,
She turns. Lamont behind her proposes.
Tastes of Passion
I
Sweet girl so precious.
The grace she treats chanoyu.
One girl different.
My life bushido.
Several girls have I known.
Restless samurai.
Wanderer am I.
Death bringers deserve no love.
A life of shifting.
Still, a new conquest.
Girl assisting chindonya.
Innocent maiko.
I will devour you.
Your heart left broken.
II
Salty is your skin.
Taste unlike any other.
Unmatched by ocean.
Stranger in my life.
Even new to here in Kansai.
Delicate chonmage.
Your body on mine.
Your hand tender on my back.
I breathe your essence.
Your eyes are chochin.
Two weeks I’ve stared dreamily.
Hypnotized by words.
For you, anything.
My dear handsome daruma.
My heart is for you.
III
Umami she brought.
My life was never this rich.
Unending kodo.
My onigiri.
Now each day is matsuri.
She gives me great love.
My ema for her.
Sweet okonomiyaki.
She brightens my days.
Glorious woman.
These past few months amazing.
Invigorating.
She will marry me.
Yabusame to my heart.
Life is now complete.
IV
Sourness have I caused.
A girl more precious than most.
I have ravished her.
I have much koku.
Geisha refused to be bought.
Claimed by samurai.
I have broken her.
My desire was to scorn him.
Stomp with waraji.
Forced in love hotel.
He interrupted our time.
Face froze in anger.
He, my enemy.
Cut off my ear with his blade.
Then abandoned her.
V
Bitterness I have.
My heart darkened through yuzen.
I will not forgive.
Love, I am ashamed.
I will be your zabuton.
You have to forgive.
I will not forgive.
You were my perfect lotus.
Then spoiled by daimyo.
My sensu broken.
You own my life dear ronin.
Drink your sweet shochu.
Forgiven in death.
Make me your yakitori.
Then we seppuku.
Unconventional Love
As I go your breath suffers me.
As I follow I bleed.
Exasperated and perplexed with pain.
With great passion.
We are united in unfamiliar circumstances.
As I venture among your corporeal reality.
Onward love pulsates.
Encapsulated by a haze of confusion.
Summoned anew.
As we suppose sweet unawareness to the challenge of crisis.
As my destination nears you sigh.
Engaged I am tormented.
Almost completely to surrender.
Normality.
We face an unfaltering enemy.
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