Sign Inventory - week 12

Serenade by Zach Savich

The sentences are short and choppy throughout the piece at many moments. It keeps the reader reading along on the journey we are discovering. We get glimpses of Ann throughout the piece (a more depressing tale) mixed in with more lively experiences and circumstances to lighten the mood of the poem entirely. We have the comical instance of the "Elmer's glue" man along side the dying Ann character. The poem paints vibrant images begging with the "technicolor weather". We are also introduced to the trumpet player who brings life and alertness in contrast to the dying mildness of Ann. We have trees blossomed outside the hospital. This is another contrast between life and death. We also have a rave at the end of which the speaker is leaving right before the mother of Ann shows up with Ann bruised so we have more contradiction of mood.

Calisthenics - week 12

The Nude Tug of War

Bare and bones stacked in seated positions, yielding order and rule.

Control and manifest destiny, yearning for more land, more power.
Men adorned with beaded sweat pulling frayed bits of rope.

Two sides, opposing, are demanding war, creating battles.

Nude sacks of flesh scrape along the pavement,
Bleeding for the Kings and fighting for the commoners.

Their bodies alone are a fortress of shelter and safety.

Vulnerable carcasses of humanity representative of their country.

Their home of which they long to return .
All they have to do is pull the rope out from under the other army.

Yank away the weapon of which you fight and you are destined to fall.

Force the hands to bleed against rough fibers, so it cuts through their palms.

 Stacked in front of each other like a line filed for death.

Like a stack of dominos, one streak of men will fall down.

For war stems from the primitive instincts to protect what’s yours.

Bones and flesh are the foundation that creates war, the nakedness of man.

And given one form of weaponry, war will be fought, even if it’s your own fists.

free write - week 12

Wheat Stalk

Church doors always open,

Swung wide at late hours of the night.

A man in a brown trench coat,

Pockets hidden inside overflowing

With loaves of wheat and grains.

A woman, hoarding children away,

Playing during a slumber party,

Gawking in awe of the bearded man.

He wants help, shelter, feet washed by Christ.

The woman directs him to a shelter,

Too far to walk, but she needs to rid him,

Like a fungus infection on the sole of your foot.

She can’t give him money like a harlot,

Or a ride to the shelter like a charitable taxi service,

for the safety of herself and the children,

She can’t even give him deli meats and cheeses

To adorn his tall loaf of white bread tucked in the coat.

So he tracks sewage into the church,

And leaves just the same,

Christ could not heal him at his haven.

There is no saintly presence beneath the steeple.

All that man was good for was making children glare,

 Wide eyed at the miraculous loaves of bread,

From a white young image of Christ,

And all wondered, “Where was the wine?”

junkyard quote 4 - week 12

"waiting for someone else to write their names in the air or water"

junkyard quote3 - week 12

"this poem in our pockets like a charm"

Junkyard quote2 - week 12

"Snow like tissue after tissue pulled from a box"

Junkyard quote - week 12

"i count thousands of names in my head"

improv-ing - week 12

Improv - Facing it by Yusef Komunyakaa

In the poem we discussed today
A man stood before names of the dead
I left class seeing shadows of soilders
Green canopies of camouflage.
 I stepped before an art exhibit
And became numb, reflecting on the memorial
I count thousands of names in my head.
A snowflake drifted to the tip of my nose.
Like the white flash of a booby trap.
The soles of my boots bounce on the earth.
And im driven towards to tundra of white light.
Wind whistles commands through my ears.
I become engulfed with strange faces.
All heading in the same direction as I.
All becoming fallen soldiers of the war.
Next I'm by a land mine.
I grip the rifle between m fingers.
Hot breath blows the smoke away.
And suddenly I'm home again.
I'm safe in my comforting cage.
Waiting to fight life's battles.

response 2 - week 11

This is a very interesting piece. As for minor comments, the guessing of the year should only have one date and the i loved the nectar and peached line. I love what you are doing in regards of playing off the Cinderella story. The end with the sandal is a nice fit. I love the specificity it makes it more unique and narrowed down to one particular instance in a real life scene. Otherwise its a great piece of work.

response 1 - week 11

There are are very large amounts of interesting images in this piece. I find the first stanza cohesive and the third stanza cohesive  in their own individual ways but they seem to be slightly disconnected from each other. The paper airplane seems a little off of the stanza as a image and stalks of celery is the same way for the first stanza. Some of the images in the third stanza become a little heavy and dark and may need to be toned down. There are a lot of great images in that first stanza and i think things could be worked more off of that.

Sign Inventory - week 11

Alzheimer's: the Wife

It encompasses the image of an Alzheimer's patient and the deterioration of the mind. It is a very personal thing that is documented here as an experience. The deterioration becomes more minor to progressing. There is rhyming at times in the piece. It asks questions. Vague approach to the face, calling it "it" as if disconnected from it with herself and her image. Ambiguity of the daughters in the pieced outlined by their belongings whether than who they are and phrasing "boy Jed" as a possession and not a person. There are short declarative sentences for the first two lines.

Improv 1, Week 11

Alzheimer's the Wife by C.K. Williams

Improv

My mother used to recite stories every day to me,
Stories that I heard time and time again,
To her they were real and new to present.
Each time she told of the time she farted on the toilet
I had to laugh even when it was so routine.
A genuine laugh, because she could tell if i faked
My mouth goes crooked and show half my teeth.
But for her i could do anything, for her love.
And when she would forget something about me
My age my, school grades, my friends,
I don't take it personally, she doesn't forget me.
She recognizes me on the hospital bed
She knows my name when all others blur,
She shares my love with her last remaining thoughts.

calisthenic 1, week 11

Virgin Lies

At the war, I was about to penetrate him dazzlingly when,
at furry parades, men abound
and dizzily from me, he twirled first
to his blue buffet
and then the obese, and he was satisfied,
sweetly before he sauntered the...
My teacup flew him rolling, too,
and a bastard, who yawned over.
He was a scary gorilla, purple,
glazed, chewed pancakes during the day
and his brother and mother
at night. He didn't skateboard
or try to master the pantomime
with which he wrote these elegies.
My toaster said: "Happens." Our crow
stalks half-heartedly to his sandbox
and was soon set towards us
with his special. feature,
of which he was inadvertently 
but so far only used to select two round scenes.
It was the pause
we'd usually call to rewind slowly a movie.
A subtitle, a muted audio, you taped
where he, or she, filmed. Our cinema
looped a feed
beside the popcorn
and we sang him soothingly.

Free Write , Week 11

Service Him Well

Edible note cards scented with lavender and coconut
Folded into cranes placed in the ash tray on my desk each morning.
Impression of lips pressed in magenta on the filter of my menthol cigarette
Tucked in the empty box and placed in my briefcase.
A black lace thong tucked into my cabinet,
Sitting upon files of sexual harassment cases.
At lunch a sleuth slips into my office and perches nude on mahogany.
I peel through the darkness and let my fingers outline your curves.
A key slipped into my back pocket through an embrace.
Enveloped in a coat you wiggle away like a mummy, cleaning lips.
Key attached to an address attached to a whore attached to my back pocket.
And a night lined in delusions with laced drinks
Leads me to your doorstep

Junkyard Quote 4, Week 11

"Perfect insanity, more appealing than chocolate"

Junkyard Quote 3, Week 11

"The sting of a missing beat on my mothers heart monitor"

Junkyard Quote 2, Week 11

"stiff limbs of crippled dogs in the sewers"

Junkyard Quote 1, Week 11

"curdled rays of sunlight on winter snow"

Response #1 - week 10

WOW! that is long. It is semi-consistent. There is a weird part about the burned child in the hospital that seems like a shift in story, a nice passage, that i know connects with the mother and the black heart and how she is as evil as the virgin mary. But is comes off sort of differently from the other passages. The story is a really nice well not "nice" but intriguing and well illustrated. I am not sure about fusing the biblical with the story because it gets jumbled and confusing somewhat. And im not sure if the questions at the end are needed or not, maybe phrase it without the questions. otherwise very good peice.

Sign Inventory - week 10

Robert Creeley - For Friendship

It shows a continuous cycle or circle of people, chained off, and pared off in twos. Humans do tend to come in pairs. Friendship is joined by hands and is a walk. The two short passages  paint a simple image but enough to get a point across of enough significance for the poem to matter. There are only eight lines and twenty-seven words, which is very small. But it is a cute poem. And the connection of people if very heightened, there has to be a connection of the hands as in holding.

improv-ing - week 10

Sharon Olds - The Promise


Improv

We have a suicide pact
Pricked fingers and signed blood
Barbarous actions but necessary\
We run off instinct
You trip, i catch you
Your sick, I care for you
You smell of perfume, I hold you close
And in your darkest hour
As you lose your grip
I cling close and we fly together
Like butterflys, singing in the night
As we both step off the edge

junkyard quote 4 - week 10

"The pastor makes me salivate for blood and flesh in tiny cups"

junkyard quote 3 - week 10

"Barbarous doctors stealing children from the womb"

junkyard quote 2 - week 10

"Cretan of the lagoon"

junkyard quote - week 10

"evangelical black bird on the church's steeple"

Free Write - Week 10

Night and Day

As routine as dental floss
I take the tiny tablet of joy
That asphyxiates the green goo coating my brain
And like a pharmacist i fulfill your needs
With my mundane language as I'm under a trance
Movements mechanical with rusty hinges
And the squeaking of an upset costumer
Does not even faze me
Colors bleed into a tranquil lake
And I swim and bathe blindly
Ignorant of my effect on the world
Blissful that i can still recall this morning
While yesterday drowns in the primary colors
And tomorrow doesnt exist until
The pill hits my tongue and I collapse in bed
With empty dreams and a mild snore.

Calisthenics - week 10

Dinner

Peering upon mounds of bushes and trees towering into a heap, into a hill

Which leads to a brown river across dirty land, and crashes into a snowy tundra

Coated in mud and that slides down its ski slopes.

If one hurtles over the tundra one lands in the deep ocean of greenery,

With slick mahogany tart lakes, streams, rivers, darting through the green.

Large globes of red block streams pathways, 

And square icebergs of yellow and white shed sand.

On the outskirts of the green sea lies a devious drench of water

With a yellow flotation device on top.

And beyond that sits metal bars on soil that can be moved.

They attack the diverse lands and destroy them,

Like an alien life form destroying our world.

Soon all of it is barren and dry,

With only dismembered scraps of the world are left behind.

junkyard quote 4 - week 9

"romance"

I worldy romance

junkyard quote 3 - week 9

"occasional minor irritation"

-read it off a bag of Halls, i just thought it sounded nice.

Calisthenics - week 9

Leave the Shame Behind
oil on linen over panel
Chris Peters, 2007

Yellow

“Shhhhh”, I whisper to my child as I tell of the blacks and blues,

The oil pastels smeared across landscapes,

Painting images of graveyards blotting over fields of tulips.

I speak of how yellow does not exist, It’s too lively,

We’re too stale and bitter like a black cup of coffee

In the morning when I wear my shades to breakfast.

I then reflect how mundane we all are,

How cobwebs clutter every joint of my body,

And artistic pallets of deities could not suppress

The routine of work and eat and sleep recycled again and again.

Even my wife cries every night at the foot of her bed on her knees,

But I gave up on God when he, “made you sick”, I told my son,

When a sneeze threatened your entire life,

And a needle contained the answer to our prayers

When you would choke on your own lungs.

Now here I sit painting your name on my arm with my finger tips,

Absorbing every brush against my brown hairs, remembering you.

And now my head in my hands I feel my pulse,

Imagining it was yours, as if you were really here.

And only then do I feel the yellow seep in.

improving - week 9

Improving “Camel and Man”

Man and Marsupial 

I saw a man come to town in a carriage pulled by brutes.

He traveled gently to the park and pulled his carriage to the center of a large plain.

I saw how people walking the track or children playing on the jungle gym

Refocus their attention on this peculiar man, befuddled by his presence.

He stepped down from his cart and announced, “Come and behold this amazing act!”

The parents noticed the children climbing off the playground toys,

They were drawn to the man’s voice, so parents led children hand in hand to this man.

“Come witness the graceful dancing of me and my dear friend Stanley” The man exclaimed,

He dressed in suit and bow tie with a black top hat and was rather short.

The crowd slowly gathered round, and I pushed my way through to the front.

“Now for Stanley’s big moment”, the man said as he walked around the rear of the carriage.

He opened the door letting down in to a ramp and what climbed out was a marsupial.

A kangaroo leapt forth and when it landed on the ground it turned towards the audience and bowed.

  Both man and animal came around front and he turned on a record,

And when the music began to play, the man and animal began to dance.

The crowd cheered as they went through the polka, salsa, waltz, hip hop, ballet,

And when they tap danced, even the horses joined in clomping their shoes.

I could help but jump and cheer, and suddenly the crowd grew silent and the dancing ceased,

 And the man walked up to me and bent down low and said “You ruined it”,

And just like that he turned around and left, and I was given sneers by all around,

Unsure what I did to earn such disrespect, a guilt I still mysteriously carry. 

Free write - week 9

Dear Jesus

Baby Jesus help me, bless my soul.

My wife fucked Robert Helter,

And I walked in on her spread eagle,

Robert fixing her rope ties, pinning her to the bed posts.

Dear little Jesus in a Huggies diaper

I stood in shock watching Robert naked,

Licking the body of my naked wife,

Working his head to her hairy cunt.

Flying glowing infant Jesus with a cross,

I screamed, “What the fuck are you doing”,

And Robert gave a wide eyed expression,

My wife stuttered “shit” repeatedly in manic.

Dear Mary and Joseph’s child in a cradle

I ran to the china cabinet and flung opened the drawer

I took out a slick pistol and loaded four bullets,

Ran back to the room where the whores threw on clothes.

My innocent lamb baby in the inn

I put two bullets into both Robert Helter and my wife,

One in the head, one in the chest.

I should have never let my brother in my home.

Dear Jesus my lord and savior,

When the cops come, plead my innocence,

You know what I did was rightful,

Love your favorite human, Jeremy Helter

junkyard quote 2 - week 9

"The distinguishing mark of youth is the magnificent facile vocation of joys"

junkyard quote - week 9

"If it was sufficient to love, things would be too easy"

love is not the cure it adds more problems and blurs lines more than it helps any matters. It will also tear you apart.

free write - week 8

Heartbeat

Two young girls, children, cousins, 

Full of eager energy for my arrival. 

Taking me by the hand they lead me down aching stairs, 

Being brought down to an abysmal cellar. 

Skyscrapers made of boxes and baby clothes, 

Creating a maze of garage sale oddities. 

Surrounded by Christmas lights and cardboard, 

The two doctors put on plastic stethoscopes and winter coats. 

They placed the pink plastic circle to my chest, 

Searching for a heartbeat, to know i was alive. 

Then they moved under my shirt to get a better sound. 

I gripped my shirt to force it down, yet my fingers

Were pried away one by one. 

Their strength was greater, as they pinned me down, 

like an butterfly body in a picture frame. 

I opened my mouth to tell them "stop", 

and i small hand quickly covered it shut, 

So that my sounds were muffled and dull. 

Nothing to cease their erotica, 

Until a call came from above, it was time to leave. 

They released me, and i put myself back together. 

Scared to lose a friend, i never uttered a word. 

Mute to the tongue, gripping my clothes, i go home, 

Waiting for the day i must return.

Response #2 - week 8

“Yes is always I said” sounds dyslexic because it is compared to the obvious way of saying it by stating “I always said yes”. I see how you were maybe playing on words to make it unique but I think it makes more sense if it was structured normally. “Eat your favorite tee-shirt” is a really interesting line because it is out of the ordinary. “Have sleeps” wounds weird. I would like to see more definition as to what is being said “yes” to, and what characters are involved, and create a scene. This poem is about the word “yes” and using it as a life philosophy, however its part in the poem may be slightly excessive because hearing all the “s” sounds can get overwhelming. 

Response #1 - week 8

“wide-mouthed” and “opened-mouthed” sound weird being so close together. Love the part, “maybe if it hit me I would have become clean”, it reminds me of a poem where a young girl is subjected to racism and she scrubs herself till her skin burns in the shower trying to clean her body of her skin color. “Without streaks” seems a little reiterative of clean and unnecessary to have in the poem. I liked the adding of blue at the end, conveying the emotion and the literal dye in the bottle of Windex. The questions at the end all close together is very claustrophobic and needs to be thinned out and possible spread out. Otherwise it is a very compelling piece. 

Calisthenics - week 8

Write a poem with two fruits, 5 adjectives, something exotic, 20 lines

my mother(revised slightly)

Embalming fluid, a metal table, pumps sit before me,

as every day presents itself. I hoard away bodies in my crawl space.

Most have grown old and wilted in their long deaths

Like the flower on the cactus outside the building.

Radiant like the sun, but the bloom weeps.

 A woman wheeled in, reminds me of my mother

The wide nose and mole at the corner of her lip.

She is positioned on the table, and I swear I feel her muscle twitch

I suddenly I feel that if I stuck the needle into her skin

And started draining,

I might just be committing murder.

My fingers on her sink like into the bruise of an apple.

I don’t know her name, how she died,

Her favorite pizza toppings, or when she lost her virginity.

And thus I drain her body like squeezing a lemon,

Then fill her back up.

Sign Inventory - week 8

Komunyakaa's My Father's Love Letters

We have the characters of an educated (at least more so than his father) young lad, his hard working father with lack of opportunity for a proper education, and the not present but existing mother figure. We really get a very majestic image of his father, for he is a carpenter and does what he can to the utmost potential with is blue blue prints of which he can read, and his tools. The mother figure is out of the picture and the reason as to why we are unsure, but this letter sending seems like a regular basis thing. The son is the decreed writer of the letters, copying what his father says, however the father signs the letters so that a part of him is with that letter. The son knows  his mother doesnt appreciate them saying either she laughs in mockery at them or incinerates them. But the fathers love for his wife is still present along with the son's love for his father.

junkyard quote 4 - week 8

"you seem to define your life with your satire"

interesting way at perceiving things from a set perspective.

junkyard quote 3- week 8

"time swiftly fleets, and wished eternity, approaching, brings life undecaying, love without allay, pure flowing joys, and happiness sincere"

I positive outlook on life in its temporal form. From my 18th century literature class. 

junkyard quote 2- week 8

"nothing so true as what you once let fall"

the most genuine things we have we tend to lose.

junkyard quote- week 8

"the angelic train"
- as though it is something to ride when part of the christian faith, also using train as a mode of transportation is dated.

Response #2 - week 7

The beginning is a nice introduction of the traditional expectation, then you move beyond that and go into the man's head and how he perceives his family and what he prefers to do. Its embracing the element of escaping one reality, entering another, then slowly drifting back into the home life. I love how the wife is described, "a genus in the rose family". There are nice pictures being painting and its very enjoyable to read. You truly took on the other persona.

Response #1 - week 7

This poem was very impressive. It really paints the image of this man very well. Because the poem is called "The Poet" i was expecting the description of his life to be more detailed, because he dies rather quickly before he ever fully lives in the poem. But the details about his life that are included are beautifully put. The ending is very solidifying though in a sad way, but i like the mention of his daughter, showing how his life continues on through is offspring.

junkyard quote4- week 7

"human elixirs"

An interesting way of expressing way one human can cure or make better another.

junkyard quote3 - week 7

"in love with impossibility"

The idea of being in love with the impossible means that that love could never be fulfilled. Or the love stems from it not happening, so it can be whatever you want it to be, the impossible. But still if only it would be fulfilled. But maybe its not what you want to do in reality, its just an impossible idea to stay an idea because sometimes things are better imagined than fulfilled.

Sign Inventory - week 7

Yusef Komunyakaa : Facing It

There are two realities in the poem. We start off standing before the Vietnam Memorial and the speaker tries to resist the emotions that are tied to the war of which the wall is reminding him off. He finally succumbs and becomes a part of the memorial. He reflects on the traumatic past reflecting on Andrew Johnson  and how he perished in the war. The woman's blouse now bleeds into his flashback as the white flash and the letters shimmering. He then see's a veteran  who was missing his arm and gazes upon him, seeing the after affects of the war. The last image is of a lady brushing her child's hair whose reflection looks like she is erasing the names. This bleeds the two realities together.

Amor Fati

My life is structured circularly.

Everything I do now will repeat itself eternally.

And if I do reach the point of oblivion,

What dreams will come in that sleep of death?

Until then I relive my victories and triumphs

Yet I also live my failures and shortcomings.

Repeatedly reliving my darkest hours,

A torment to behold, to imagine.

All the times of great fights,

All the times someone was lost,

All the physical pain and suffering,

In infinite repetition, an infinite nightmare.

I must live with depth in my life

And embrace eternal recurrence.

Say “yes” to life and what it offers.

Be the camel bearing other’s burdens,

Then become the lion rebellious against other’s ways,

Lastly embrace the child, playful and creative

Creating new values and being individual.

Then become the amor fati.

Based off what i learned about in my existential psychology class while discussing Nietsche and his philosophy. 

Calisthenics - week 7

 Calisthenic 5

Temporary

The temporal existence in the perspective

Of a petite aquatic creature

Reflecting the meaninglessness I embrace

As part of my existence in my bowl.

My cubicle assorted with trinkets to admire,

My apartment, adorned with posters.

Like plastic rocks, and plants, and caves,

My rooms, my space, is all a façade.

Imagine an existence that is fabricated

By a mind far superior to its surroundings.

Desiring something elaborate and free

Yet restricted in all aspects of the self.

The confinement so claustrophobic

There doesn’t seem to be enough water to breathe.

Enough air to breathe, enough oxygen to live.

I swim back and forth from work to home,

Only knowing the path I take, never straying.

There is no room to move away from the familiar.

My familiar rock shaped like a star sitting in the far corner

Of my bowl that is safe, the rudamentory.

But what if the glass breaks, the water depletes?

My safe rock gets washed away in the tide

And soon I’m helpless, flailing for life.

What then when it all falls apart and I’m alone?

That will be a mystery hide from in my seaweed, alone. 

junkyard quote2 - week 7

"an anti-sexual climax"

interesting as to what this is to be defined as. Something outside of sexual relations that makes one climax.

junkyard quote - week 7

"shoot antifreeze through your veins"

Heard it on a radio station and found it very intriguing.

Response #2 - week 6

This is very short and sweet yet it was difficult for me to read. Sunkest was a word the held me up and was hard to speak when reciting. Ear instrument sounds weird. Its certainly unique way of phrasing, however im not sure it suits the piece. it sounds technical and disrupts the "flow" which is very whimsical. Its a very sweet in concept poem that you just want to roll with. I think you should continuing writing on it :)

Response #1 - week 6

There are many interesting images taking place here which is very entertaining. It also conveys a lot of different comparisons to the rice that is cooking. Part of me was maybe hoping to see more connections with the rice in each image. I lost the rice from the piece. And the images im not sure where they all come from, maybe bring some unison to them though they are different. I loved the more bizarre images i would just like some more consistency i suppose. Very intriguing and exciting piece.

Sign Inventory - week 6

Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio

Its an interesting approach at taking on the view of a football time. There are a lot of images of the stadium with a focus of the parental figures. Also delves in the loss of a game and the parents reactions. The players going against one another told as "suiciadally beautiful" is an interesting way of phrasing. Football does begin autumn, as to the title. Also in a small town like what i am assuming Martins Ferry is there is an extra emphasis as a whole town or community towards football. There are three stanzas. One describes the set up of the scene taking place. The middle section revolves around the parental figures and the third section revolves around the sons or players themselves. Goes from a wide perspective and then centrals in on the main figures, who is playing the football game.

Junkyard quote4 - week 6

"her suffering had a quality of saintliness"

its a weird way of seeing the pure innocence and fragility of a human being through their suffering. there is such a vulnerability, thus saintliness emerges.

Calisthenics - week 6

Create a poem influenced by a piece of literature. 

Solitary shell 

Entomology at its finest

Confined in his bedroom,

This human hybrid with more legs than words.

Demeaned and degraded,

Left to starve and waste away.

A girl, a sister, breaking customs,

Going behind enemy lines.

Putting forth an offering of milk and scraps.

This creature, frightened, is still man.

Yet succumb by an apple, a fruit

Leads to his demise,

Left to rot on the floorboards he could not escape.

And the girl, sister, left in the shadow of her brother.

Haunted she may become like him. 

This is a poem based off the metamorphosis by Kafka. 

junkyard quote 3 - week 6

"Killing the spirit of gravity"

Thought it was interesting. it came from my existential psychology class. Almost like a betrayal of gravity, like flying. or possible using gravity in a negative fashion or displeasing fashion like jumping off a building to your death.

Free Write - Week 6

Timeline

Long lines list lessons of time stopped and restarted,

Rebooted, originated in textile oceans of lust

Desiring iridescent angels selling lies

Of transcendence and victory of self.

We sulk in lost limbs of prior gods and die

The irrelevant death of a delirious plea.

For true forgiveness, drown in envious green

And resurface in the verminous brown suede.

Forget your expectations, a tyraid of hearts

Wrapped in cloth, washed up upon shores

Of resentment and shells, bitter air and dead dogs.

Touch the gritty sand, remember who you are,

Not what your composed to be,

Then fall back into the sea. 

I ended up sitting in class and writing on an envelope anything that came to my mind without really thinking about it and this is what came out of it, this is the product. 

junkyard quote 2 - week 6

"I'm like that piece in a puzzle that just won't fit. I can temporarily hold a place but I'm not a permanent solution."

- this is a line from my diary that i wrote last year. i was reading through my passages and found these lines quite fascinating.

Junkyard quote - week 6

"My identity is lost in a pit of menthol ashes."

An amazing way of referring to someone who smokes menthol cigarettes. To lose who you are because of a person in a commonality and this brings a unique way a phrasing to the subject.

Response #2 - Week 5

I really enjoyed this poem or in a sense a prayer. I thought the first line is weak but it carries on from there into an enjoyable ride. You make it personal to the reader with the "fill in the blank" moments of the poem. The last stanza throws me off from the rest of the piece however and almost feels like another piece of work entirely compared to the rest of the poem. So maybe smooth that out a little better. Very nice job.

response #1 - week 5

The ending is very nice way to sum of the piece. I enjoyed the more obscure ways to speak of the consumption of the food. The vitamin D im not sure where its coming from whether its outside or with lunch. "white down the tongue" sounds strange to me. I think it could be reworded. Overall it is a good image of lunchtime.

Sign Inventory - week 5

One Art - Elizabeth Bishop

The poem repeats lines for reiteration such as "the art of losing isn't hard to master" and the word "disaster". The last stanza breaks the three line pattern. There is consistent rhyming throughout the piece. It goes from minor losses to something more detrimental. The gradual climb of what is lost. There is losing within control and losing out of control. Though things lost out of control are put in a spectrum of language that is appears that it was all controlled. 

junkyard quote 4 - week 5

"where the wine is pure and not mixed with the spit of corpses"

A line where a man is speaking of his girlfriend, referring to her as the wine. The man had just fought in WWII. 

Junkyard quote 3 - week 5

"I may be a little mad, however i tend to humor myself"

Through madness is entertainment. Creativity comes from the mad at times. Inspiration can lack some sanity.

junkyard quote - week 5

"irresistibly vile, candy to my lips"

something so tantalizing good can be bad something so bad it craved by us. The worst things for us are that which we are tempted to partake in, and many do partake in.

Free Write - week 5

Roadkill

A stench
Skittles, coffee, and rubber
three tires perched roadside.
Gas station cappachino for adults
Diet coke and slushies for the kids
My father pops skittles like pills
An anatomy exibit sits beside us.
A raccoon curled up in the fetal position.
I named him Rocky Balboa.
Ants crawl around the small intestines.
I'm tempted to join their feast.
Meditating in the gravel,
The sun sets yet we are fully alive.

I wanted to capture a family stranded on the side of the road due to a flat tire. The minor situation is something important to capture in a poem.

improv-ing - week 5

"Explaining an Affinity for Bats"

Explaining An Affinity for Lions

Drawn together under the sun

A pack, a pride, of pride

Tracked domain, territory marked

Slaughters echo in worship

Shadows of dusk, swift

Lush terrain to prowl

through the generations

creating life by the sun

festering in heat, aging

mortal, immortal through offspring

Living for the day itself

Fending for a lifetime

Calisthenics - week 5

"A thing"

Skull

abysmal holes of oblivion
perched solemnly glaring
judgmental sockets full of empty lust
sulking nose harvesting dust
cranium smooth and refined
logic worn away by time
fragility fractured and scared
jaw loose losing speech
empty words forgotten
image of humanity under dust

I wanted to take something that was dead and bring life back to it, so i chose a skull. The shade of past life.

junkyard quote - week 5

"tyrannical cup of tea"

Interesting to give such personality to a cup of tea. Must be equivalent to a strong cup of tea that seems overpowering. 

junkyard quote 4 - week 4

"we all go a little mad sometimes"

Almost like a madhatter sort of quote yet is actually a quote from the serial killer Ted Bundy, there is some truth behind it. None of us are the picture image of sanity, we all tend to lose it every now and them, some to more extremes than others, but maybe madness is simply human.

junkyard quote 3 - week 4

"Does God ever have reason to cry?"

This brings about the discussion of what control God has over us. If everything is to his will does he ever have a reason to cry? When those stray away from him by the christian faith's understanding, does he not mourn their loss or does he simply accept it and live peacefully with the order of things? It's an interesting question. Does God even have the right to cry? Would that make him less of a God if he did?

Response #2 - Week 4

You painted the picture very well of the dirty track students on a bus ride home.  i enjoy the slight sexuality about it was well. The word "butts" doesnt seem to fit in for me when i read it thought at the same time it brings up that adolescent language or vernacular. There could be more visual moments in the piece to convey that concrete imagery that this poem seems to lack slightly in. The more images the better.

Response #1 - week 4

there was a lot of reiteration which brings across the concept of filling out a form being draining and redundant. The words of questioning are interesting, how it asks the questions leading up to a loss of self when filling out the form and a sort of confusion or annoyance. As much as the poem is annoying with the repetition such is filling out the form you have have chosen to work with.

Sign Inventory - week 4

Wishes for Sons - Lucille Clifton

The poem is divided into four distinct sections. The poem delves into the pains of womanhood and depicts it rather accurately. Heavy emphasis on the menstrual cycle of women. The poem then digresses into menopause and the latter years of womanhood. Lastly there is the mention of gynecologists. This poem delves into the sexual  functioning and the medical aspect of women as if that is what defines us from males, that that is the only burden we carry, which was interesting.

Calisthenics - week 4

Litany

The Cat

Your subtle flesh runs against my shin.

Your claws of tyranny dominate your surroundings.

Why must you have such low tolerance?

Your eyes are like overpriced gems of torture.

Your lean body can get through the smallest spaces.

Your theft of small objects infuriates me.

Why must you claim everything as your own?

Your sharp teeth latch onto my flesh in furry.

Your vicious talons dig deep in my skin.

Your shriek of a calling runs a chill down my spine.

Why must you be so cruel to your overseer?

You hack up mucus on my precious belongings.

Your hair falls like snow all around me.

You have a quick temper and fast reflex.

Please release me from your fierce grasp. 

Improving - week 4

Robin Redbreast, The Pardon, Dead Horse, Traveling Through the Dark

A row of the damned walking in single file. 

Feet can not take them as far as they crave. 

A funeral pyre ready to behold the fragility of life. 

Brutes and beasts lacking class and disposition. 

Muddy with sores and raw debilitated skin, 

The animals groan anticipating death, 

A freedom from suffering and betrayal. 

I wanted to write a snippet of a dead animal poem so i tried to depict the line for slaughter.  

Free Write - Week 4

Failed Escape Artist

Boughs wrap cold arms around me,

Abrasive against my bare skin.

I secrete blood from the adorned thorns,

Which I wear like the crown of Christ.

Howl

I spot the vertebra of an estranged beast,

The caliber of a ripened brute ready to pounce.

Sedimentary I stand, shallow breathing

The sniper eyes spot me, amber glazed.

Howl

Confined by the air, I’m vulnerable.

I run like ink down a piece of parchment.

Where is the freedom I crave?

Everything is priced as I bleed

Wanted to write about the adrenaline rush of being in a chase against a beast where there will never be a victory. What do you do when you are set up for failure? Questioning of fate and when to accept it. 

junkyard quote 2 - week 4

"I've got everything from candy to gonorrhea"

The idea of the things that we can have or own is very vast. It can be from a disease to a sweet treat. A commodity can take many shapes and forms and needs to be acknowledged for such vast variety.

junkyard quote - week 4

"What if we were real"

It is a questioning of what is real or not to the point where it is questioning what if we are not real, then how would it be if we were real. A self-evaluation of the reality we predispose ourselves to live in. What makes someone real? How can you judge what is real or reality?

Response #2 - Week 3

I really enjoyed this. It was very lively and pained a terrific picture. I felt it was slightly cliched to say "Overlooked like the right answer" as though it was a little cheesy in quality but still a good line. i am also unsure about that "recyle, reuse" line, it seems to "go green" in nature and takes away from the effect of the poem slightly. But nothing to the extreme where it causes great issue. It is still an excellent piece of poetry you have written.

Response #1 - week 3

I am not sure i like it starting with "in venus", it doesnt suit the flow of the rest of the poem. I do like the images you are creating for the reader. The last stanza was very intense but i feel still good. I enjoyed the other worldly sort of images depicted here. very nice work, and i liked it ending on "i remember when". it was very nice.

Sign Inventory - week 3

Quisiera Declarar

There are short lines that break verily quickly. There are sequences of listing as compared to the actual form "quisera declarar". The poem is very long because of the short line length, and as many repeated beginning and ending words or phrases. The form format leaves creative gaps of space, such as the blank parts and the parenthesis "yes" moments in the piece. It is very snappy in rhythm.

improv-ing - week 3

Quinsiera Declarar

Improv:
First step is to
Let go of all your
inner struggles.
Free yourself
from your woes.
Become anew.
Sit crossed legged
On the hardwood floor.
Sit up straight,
as if your body
was pulled by
the strings of a
puppet. Breath deeply
in ten, out ten, in ten again.

junkyard quote4 - week 3

"I'm a collector of lives"

The idea of hoarding lives for ones own benefit is very unique concept on its own. The idea of having that control over other people's lives is a great power and burden to hold.

Junkyard quote3 - week 3

"A mirror to which i see everyone but myself"

This was to be the definition of satire, but is also a reflection of criticism in general. Any means of criticizing leads to a focus on that one thing you criticize and a move away from the self. To lose your reflection however may not always be a negative thing, it may work to your benefit.

Junkyard quote2 - week 3

"Specificity is the soul of the narrative"

This is very true. The more specific something is the more believable it will be and the more life it will have. Though poems are to be simplistic compared to narrative, there can still be specificity in the minor details to bring a poem to life and make it feel authentic. 

Junkyard quote1 - week 3

"Exaggerated Hello"

This expresses such over enthusiasm or possible a falsehood behind a genial greeting between people. Now one can not even take the sincerity of a simple hello for granted.

Free Write - Week 3

The Fog

A candy coated envelopes my body.
I cant see, breath, think,
Encapsulated in a tomb of haze and distortion.
A washed out existence caught between black and white.
I fester within myself as i solemnly sit.
To sulk and age, to sleep eternally,
Sleepwalking daze of disillusion.
Free me, wake me up, bring me tomorrow's light!


This is a poem i wrote while i was in my state of depression. It is a reflection of my depression when it comes on like a dark veil over my body.

Calisthenics - week 3

Angry poem

Collapsed tongues on an iron skillet,
The putrid odor slices your nostrils,
Fueled by your own decaying sludge.
Cracked glass lips fracture flames.
Heartburn bubbling to a dragon's roar.
Embedded splinters are your words,
I bleed out the sins you utter.

Response #2 - Week 2

i love "i heard lady gaga in his voice", its just so obscure its believable. I love the descriptive aspect of it and getting bits of a conversation as we define who "Sedrick" is and what surrounds him. It was a great way of creating a character in the poem.

Response #1 - week 2

This is very good in regards to imagery. I feel suing the world "spoiled" twice is too redundant. The birds come to life and paint a scene that is very toned down and casual. They bring a casual moment to life.

junkyard quote4 - week 2

"tarnished butterfly bound and held hostage"

The image of a butterfly on a display board pinned to place to suffer its fate of a miserable death collecting dust and debris and sitting in its own filth. It is the image of beauty turned to decay, for nothing lasts forever.

Sign Inventory - week 2

The End of the Weekend

- adolescent in language
- sexual energy through the piece
- connecting sin with sex and the debate tied along with that
- no direct mention of the owl, only indirect
- nervous awkwardness about that language
- sexual phrases like "fingered" used in an indirect sexual way
- at fathers summer home (not supposed t be there)
- omniscient parental figure lingering

Junkyard quote3 - week 2

"sexually real"

Brings to live sexual desires and making it seem like that is where reality is based off of, our sexual temptations and feelings, and nothing more. It is elemental to our nature and being (sexuality) thus being sexually real emphasizes this.

improv-ing - week 2

The End of the Weekend

A dying firelight slides along the quirt
of the cast-iron cowboy where he leans
Against my father's books. The lariat
Whirls into darkness.

Improv:

A bowl weighted with water sits in the moonlight
Where shadows of movement dart between
The stripes of metallic through the blinds.

Propped on a desk sat a globe in drought
Compared to its usual snowfall. Where a pretty
'Kitty perched inside the sphere on a pumpkin.

Free Write - Week 2

Once Upon a Time

Remember when the tap of the pencil in the desolate room
 matched our heart beats? Sitting in a room listening to scratches of
distant audio unsure of who we are. You want to be Prince Charming
to a damsel in distress, but are we not all ugly inside?
Your chunky chains of fairy tales restrain you keeping anyone
worth while. The villain is she who takes the prince off of his quest.
A villain am I. W never said a word, we never stood a chance.
We were a dichotomy of wrath. Preconceived order
Crumbles to disorder, so how long can you illusion stand?
Remember the trees and stars, a laugh to cut the silence,
As the moon glared.

Junkyard quote2 - Week 2

"Is an inverted rainbow as appealing to the eye?"

This quote takes a stereotyped word used in poetry such as rainbow and changes the perspective on it by inverting it thus creating a new image for it. It something so appealing seen in one light just as appealing as seen in another.

Junkyard quote1 - week 2

"crippled calling"

There is a sense of uncertainty and proper faith in the call when it is crippled. We all have callings in our life to do certain things, well this one is wounded, is mysterious because of that and thus is hard to trust and to rely on. The broken call for the broken soul.

Calisthenics - week 2

Introduction to Poetry

Why do you call me The Lie?
It pinches me enough it is nothing.
Not I, but he, who travels the words.
He is valuable or a wreck;
glass bottles, fallen timber, and rock rubble.
Were it sweet, it'd be my dew, his dew.
Sacrifice to him what is prescribed.

Sign Inventory - week 1

A Martian Sends a Postcard Home

This poem is arranged in couplets. Takes on a voice of  a martian viewing earth and the perspective he takes on common daily objects. This absurd point of view it very unique bringing an original quality to the commonality of things. The use of descriptions is very detailed and specific and paints  a picture or image.

Free Write - Week 1

A breath of smokey air

Succumb to yonder howls

The window squeaks

The air breathes

A broken jewelry box

A broken branch 

The creak of my rocking chair. 

My hands trembling violently

On my desk over shattered love letters. 

The gun gripped in my fist. 

The wolf confines me. 

I started writing some scraps of  a poem inspired by a scene in the novel i am writing. It isnt very good, im not a great poet, but its a start at least. 

Response #2 - Week 1

This makes it very unique because of the child like perspective that is blurred with dark morbidity of the arteries exploding. Its very intriguing and tells a story as it stemmed from your anger in a scene during a moment.

Response #1 - week 1

I love all the aspects of your cat you are bringing into the poetic piece. Cats are mysterious little creatures that sneak and sleuth around and are perfect to expand on in a poetic context because there is so much depth to them. And it is condensed rather nicely.

improv-ing - week 1

A Martian Sends a Postcard Home

There are people trapped in a metallic box crying to get out while others celebrate their entombment.

A long tube like a feather that breathes with life and exhales spirals that choke those around them like a plague.

A friendly monster that must be fed yet can  be emptied  when it roars and keeps it mouth agape for far too long.

Calisthenics - week 1

Smell : Smoke

The long thick dancer's legs wrap around you leaving abrasions. A clinging leech crawling back up for freedom. The frost over a light pole fading away distorted images. The singing ballerina from a toy music box dancing on your nose. The brush of a friendly dog on your side.

Junkyard quote4 - week 1

"Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head"
This highlights the inner hate and feeling of self-destruction we all feel deep down. We all want to escape ourselves so we all  hold a gun to our head as a means of desiring to do so. Its an inner struggle and yet possibly an inner safety we have set with that invisible gun.

Junkyard quote3 - week 1

"If i could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could i wake up as a different person?"
 This question ponders the basic concept of the self. What makes up the self, is it the place we reside or the time we reside in or is it more than our surroundings that influence us to be the way we are? It shows an uncertainty and discontent with oneself with a desire to change, become a new, become someone else.

Junkyard quote2 - Week 1

"Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer. Maybe self-destruction is the answer"
There is a questioning of what is better for the situation for oneself and destruction is being weight over improvement. For improvement is temporary in comparison to how permanent destruction is. So the questioning of what is worth the time to do causes one to lean towards destruction. Its an interesting point of view on things and  perception.

Junkyard quote - week 1

"waiting mortuaries"
The idea of the dead waiting in a room together for the next step, brings a sense of life to the corpses, for they are able to wait. This brings a sense of being unsettled, for as the death are pictured originally at peace, you now have the discontent in the mortuaries as they wait uncertain inside their temporary tombs.