Silence of Words

It’s a good long walk from there

To here, under thick-black sky

Where the path weaves to and fro.

The sparrows sleep and blossoms

Close, like mouths enjoying quiet.

Two parallel lines in a nest

Of muted green. Searching eyes skyward

For the falling pieces of gold

To make a wish upon.

One hand this way, one

Heart that way. Silence

In that vacuum held

Its unshakeable grip of words.

The car will turn for the sun peaking

From its tree covered

Hide, and I return to mine.

Time Tells Of

Sunny mornings in fields of dull gold

we blaze trails through shoulder high field-grass.

The story is never the same.

You’re a motorcycle thug cruzin’ the strip,

I’m a marooned sailor looking for home.

You were always the stronger

more clever one of us.

Fields weren’t big enough though

to escape your blowing winds.

Fluorescent lit afternoons in faded 60’s desks

we push papers and tests till hand cramps.

The story is always the same.

I’m knee deep in homework,

You’re up to the eyes in a book.

A certain understanding grips

with the clock robbing minutes.

We drive quiet streets of understanding

this old town could never hold you.

Glowing nights from phones and screens

we shoot empty words from separate states.

The story never came.

You’re dressed in your white coat,

I’m drifting eyes shut in a canoe.

When I re-find home...

Symposium

I attended the Q and A dialog between Patricia and Ben. They started off the commentary on why/how they began their careers began her career when she realized the her works not only affected her, but also those surrounding her; she was fortunate to have a social circle that also supported her efforts and job. Ben’s explanation was somewhat different, in that he looked for the aspects of horror; he believes that these are thing things that evoke the most feelings in people, terror, fear, horror. I was mostly interested in Patricia Smiths conversations on her book though.

Patricia Smith was an outsider to the Katrina disaster, which influenced her writing, and she was worried that she might not be portraying them the way they saw fit. Upon the completion of her works though, it was met with mixed emotion, for some it was a work that helped them to cope with the situation and to help keep this disaster in the minds of the public; others though, thought badly on, being distasteful and such.

Patricia uses her writings as a way to process her emotions and thoughts though; she tries to resolve thoughts on religion and tensions. Her family used to be a faithful family till her father died in a robbery which seemed to have set her mother on a different path. Patricia tries to work these thoughts and feelings out through her creations though.

As a funny tid-bit, she commented on the George Bush poem, “only single syllable words.” Patricia really tries to put herself in others shoes and feel as they feel.

The Boy from School

I am a boy that knows,

how to get that GPA,

and fight for alpha male.

Stone body built

firm sinew

eyes of bullets through skin.

You have to understand

the breaking point of sticks,

our bones must be stronger

than his.

I am a boy, slippery as an eel.

Facades will get me far.

RR #5

"We read contemporary writers and imitate their line breaks, or their similes and worry that we shouldn't, that we'll only create bad reproductions instead of original works."

"We want a presence that convinces, one that engages and seduces a reader into the world of our poems, a voice a reader will want to listen to. When we fail to produce this voice, the poem fails."

"If you're studying some one's style, just about every aspect of her poems is worth considering."

"Of course, there's a mysterious element in poetry that seems to resist intellectual analysis, and this is good."

"The high road is filled with long, Latinate words - "expectorate" instead of "spit," "indefatigable" instead of "untiring," and so on... Taking the high road is tricky, but some writers have done it successfully. The danger of is that you'll sound pompous and overinflated; the danger of ordinary diction is that you'll sound ordinary."

Drive

Anxious eyed driving,

new like a kids first.

Smooth T and the jeans

with the rips. Hair sculpted

un-kempt

A circle of stretched skin

cool, under clammy fingers,

and a petal push

to go faster than a cycle.

Eyes like two candles in the twilight,

as a child in a storefront peers.

The hollow resonance

of bending metal define

the silent gasps.

Through spider-webs projected

red fur, no body found.

RR #4

"...We live in a figurative world; our language and our thinking, our very perceptions, are metaphoric. We continually make comparisons and connections, often without even realizing that we are doing so, so comfortable are we with seeing in this way."

"Figurative language is a way to deepen and intensify the themes and concerns of your work."

"... Metaphors aren't always contained within poems in discrete bits; often, entire poems work on a metaphoric level. This is one fo the pleasures of both reading adn writing poems: the recasting of one thing in therms of another, the revelation of the ways outwardly different experiences can be seen to have a similar core."

"A poem may consist entirely of ltereral images, but they may well resonate with metaphorical meaning."

"... those 'passionate midnights' in the basement are a metaphor for the work of shaping the materials of a poem, writing and revising until the magined world is fully formed. In developing your own figurative images, don't worry if your language is clumsy or confusing at first. Just have patience, and keep digging."