Recessional

Here is poem by Rudyard Kipling, one of only two poets that I really enjoy.

http://www.kipling.org.uk/poems_recess.htm

a personal favorite

My knowledge of poetry is embarrassingly limited (more so for someone who does an occasional scribbling himself). I discovered Pinsky during my stagnant years, at a time when my analytical mind was still too underdeveloped to recognize a difference between style and contrivance, just sharp enough to have good taste regardless. I still enjoy this one.

Robert Pinsky - The Green Piano

Risky Poetry

D*mn psychoanalysis for making poetry so risky to share, lol! Perhaps (and, oh, the irony of even that word!) my favorite poem is an old old old classic linked here.






I hope each of you continue to dare. Dare to sing to the mermaids . . . to disturb the universe . . .

Poetry by Don Paterson

Thanks to all that posted and will post. I think this has been a successful project thus far. Poetry. Poems. Oh, how I fret. I have written quite a few, yet I do not feel like sharing. I am not quite that daring. I think there is a poet in all of us...somewhere.

This is a sonnet about poetry.


Poetry

In the same way that the mindless diamond keeps
one spark of the planet's early fires
trapped forever in its net of ice,
it's not love's later heat that poetry holds,
but the atom of the love that drew it forth
from the silence: so if the bright coal of his love
begins to smolder, the poet hears his voice
suddenly forced, like a bar-room singer's -- boastful
with his own huge feeling, or drowned by violins;
but if it yields a steadier light, he knows
the pure verse, when it finally comes, will sound
like a mountain spring, anonymous and serene.

Beneath the blue oblivious sky, the water
sings of nothing, not your name, not mine.



Copyright 1999 by Don Paterson. All rights reserved.

Poetry = ?

Merriam-Webster has this to say:

"Poetry-a literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm"

With this in mind, I have decided to post the song I am most proud of writing.

It can be heard here

Synapse Fire

Emotion.
He loads his shells into his gun.
He loads his words for everyone
with unappreciated artistry.
Audience.
He looks out at upholstered crowds,
and figures that loitering doubt
tastes good with vacancy.
Discouraged.
There’s no substance to his minor chords,
and all his lyrics can afford
are drunks and apathetic friends; distant relatives.

But still he sketches out his soul in scribbles,
convinced the best mirrors are college ruled.
Synapse fire aimed at legal notepads,
Ammunition built from vocabulary.
Oh, how they’d carry the casualties
out of the range of the microphone;
over the radio.

‘Cause he’s heard the radio has a personality
and he says “I could dream bigger with that kind of reach.
Oh, I’d fill 800 square miles of corn and kidney beans,
and if no one’s listening,
at least I won’t be staring at these empty seats.”

One of my favorite poems...

This is one of my favorite poems which has stuck with me over the years. I love Tennyson's poems and this particular masterpiece of his has an appealling and intriguing metaphor which I think, at some point in our lives, we may all experience. It's an experience of emotion, life, wisdom, and an unyielding drive to a new uncharted horizon which awaits us all.

Enjoy,

-Kyle

Click on the link below to read the poem:

http://www.eecs.harvard.edu/~keith/poems/Ulysses.html

Hello! My name is Jessica. When I found out about this blog posting, I became very excited to see the results of what others would post. The reason for my excitement is due to the fact that I just recently got involved in the world of poetry. Up until a few quarters ago, I tended to stray away from reading or writing poetry. I think one of the reasons for my distance of poetry was because I didn't fully understand it. Like most children, I grew up reading Shel Silverstein and loving every silly poem of his that I could get my hands on. As I grew older, however, poetry didn't seem to entice me anymore. The older I got the more I was led to believe that poetry had to be overly analyzed in order to understand it. After taking a poetry class offered at OU-C, I came to find that this is a common conclusion for many students. We are taught to look at poetry in such depth that the word "poem" sometimes scares us. The act of solely reading a poem for enjoyment can be pushed to the back burner at times. Fortunately, I also learned from this class how to view poetry in a non-threatening way. Poetry has many aspects to it. Poetry can be humorous and silly or sincere and emotional. It is meant to be pleasing to the reader. Thanks to that class and the instructor, I now see poetry in a brand new light. I actually find satisfaction in not only reading poems but writing them too. A year ago I would have never dreamt of saying these words let alone reading poems on my own free will.
Now, I am not a seasoned poet by any means. I am an amateur in every way. Even though this is the case for me, I am going to share a poem I wrote. It was the first poem that I had ever written outside of middle school. While I am nervous about posting something personal, I am also excited. Since I am new to the Writing Center, I selected this poem to give insight into who I am. I thought this poem would be a great way to introduce myself.
I suggest other students give this type of personal poetry, maybe even this exact format, a try. Believe me it really is interesting and fun to see what you come up with. It is also a simple, yet wonderful, way to test the waters of your poetry skills (for amateurs like me) ; ). Here it is-- enjoy!

Origins
I am from hand-me-down clothes,
Reebok shoes and line-drying.
I am from shutters trimmed in green paint,
A wooden porch swing stained and hanging
Always in use during the spring and summer months.

I am from weeping willow trees
And patches of daisies,
Both reminders of the internal
And external splendor of my mother.

I am from hunts for the perfect live Christmas tree,
Hiking trails and camping trips.
I am from McKinnis' and Henson's,
Margaret and Mabel,
Loving, thoughtful, and from the heart.

I am from fairytales and bedtime stories,
Nightly tuck-ins and "don't let the bedbugs bite".
I am from family get-togethers--
Cousins, aunts and uncles included.

I am from "never met a stranger"
And "use your imagination".
I am from saying your prayers before you eat;
"God doesn't judge and neither should you";
"Love thy neighbor even when you don't want to".

I am from tea parties with my mom,
"Would you like crumpets with that?"
Concerts with my dad,
Occasional meet-n-greets with the bands.

I am from Columbus, Ohio,
A mixed breed--
German, Cherokee Indian, Dutch, and Irish.
I am from Bratwurst and Sauerkraut,
Peanut butter and pickle sandwiches.

I am from Sunday dinners,
Tuesday family game nights.
I am from scrapbooks of pictures
Beautifully displayed for all to see.

I am from unconditional love
And eternal family bonds.
I am from those moments--
A patch from the family quilt,
Held together by stitches of memories,
Another added every day.

Slam Poetry!

Thank you, Deb! I didn't even think about posting slam poetry, but your post reminded me of it. I absolutely love slam poetry. Go to YouTube and do a search for it... there are thousands to choose from. I'm posting links to two of my favorites. I apologize ahead of time for some (possibly) offensive language.

• Untitled by Anis Mojgani (this performance won him the 2005 Slam Nationals)
• "Nothing is for Nothing" by Jill Scott (on Def Jam Poetry)

Let me know what you think!

Life's Tragedy

Please click here to read this beautifully written inspirational Poem.

Sanity

Falling off a cliff
screaming, the abyss calls you
failing to awake


I like haiku, it calls to me.

Political Poetry

Not my favorite, but I gotta share:

Patricia Smith

Read, but be sure to scroll to the bottom and check out her "Skinhead."

Last night, on the flood wall, east end, I noted "KKK" marked in black letters sprayed on the asphalt and folks just jogging past . . .

One of my favorite poems

Several years ago, a very good friend of mine introduced me to a poem that has taken time to become one of my favorites. When I first read this poem I was not impressed. The horses, the seemingly corny language, the presumption of the author that he knows how animals feel... I just didn't like it. But the last three lines of the poem are heart-wrenchingly perfect, and I eventually came around to the rest of the poem. It has grown on me over the years, and I've learned to look past the overt subject matter, which is the primary reason that I initially didn't identify with the poem, and think of it in terms of experience. The few times in my life in which I have had experiences that give me that free floating, soaking-it-all-in feeling have been hard to describe and even harder to re-create. Wright describes his experience in a way that inspires me to keep trying to describe mine.

A Blessing
by James Wright

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

A blog about blogging

I found a great website! It's a random blog topic generator. You pick the category and click a button, and it generates a topic for you. The category options are: All, Opinion, Health, Religion, Science, Art, World, Music, Business, Personal, Technology, People, and Recreation. I chose to leave it on "all." Here are the first 5 blog topics that I received:

• Math or English?
• Getting your first job
• History of football
• Altering photo colors in photoshop
• Using public restrooms

While the last one is tempting, I think the topic would quickly go down the toilet. Pardon the pun. So, I will talk about the first one, which is a topic that is near and dear to my heart.

I am (or was, I guess I should say) an English major. For me, reading is abundantly more entertaining and enjoyable than watching TV. Alternately, math makes me feel like I am drowning. I sit and listen, focusing intently, and yet I inevitably reach the point at which everything being said loses all meaning. So I took the required math classes, one of which I would have most certainly failed if not for the professor's generous curve, and shouted with joy the day that I realized that I would never have to worry about a math grade again (the GRE wasn't on my radar back then). And I continued on my merry English way.

People that love math actually confound me. I am glad there are people out there who actually enjoy it, but I cannot even begin to comprehend that frame of mind. My brother-in-law has been out of school for about 10 years, but he sits and does calculus at home for fun. Insane!!!

So, if I haven't made myself clear, let me reiterate: I love English, but math is the devil.

(Good thing none of the math tutors read this blog...)

Hold on while I try to think of a title...

Hello :) Hmm... I really don't know what to write about, but I feel bad that I haven't blogged for a few weeks. I just had to put on my hoodie, not because I'm cold but because I'm a bit self-conscious about my bruises from ju-jitsu class. I re-bruised a bruise from last week that was fading to yellow-green, but now it's a lovely mauve color with a background of yellow-green. I have a doozy forming on my elbow; it's deep purple and hasn't fully formed yet, so it's deep. Once it comes to the surface, it'll either be dark or big... or both. While grappling in ju-jitsu, we're supposed to grab each other's gis for take-downs or throws, but occasionally we accidently grab sleeve and skin rather than fabric alone. I think that's what happened to me last night. Oh well. Injuries of all kinds come with the territory.

I've gained a few pounds this past week thanks to Easter over-indulgence. Ugh. Hate it. I was doing well with at least maintaining my current weight if not losing, but with the gain I am now shifting my focus back to losing. Adding karate to my weekly martial art classes might help, too. And bike riding. I've really been wanting to get back into bike riding.

Four more weeks of grad school. I'm sort of overwhelmed with stuff that needs done, especially since a healthy case of senioritis has set in. My motivation waxes and wanes. I want to be done, but in order to be done, I have to do stuff. I don't wanna do stuff. I want to ride my bike, and read what I want, and take walks, and draw, and garden.

The finish line is in sight... but I am questioning the reserves of strength that will get me there.

What happened to the blog jar?

As I was pondering topics for my mandatory blog, I noticed that the blog jar was missing! This makes brainstorming ideas for my blog a bit more difficult!

My only source of inspiration right now is the honest sky, the toasty sun, and the sweet breeze that is all around. This breathtaking weather is certainly boosting my psyche after a long episode of the winter blahs! The last thing I want to do is to sit in an OULN cave (no windows) for my Linguistics class. Sadly, this is where I'll be at 3:10--at least physically. Mentally I'll be lying in a hammock half asleep with sunglasses on and a copy of a book of MY choice. It's been so long since I've read one of those that I don't even know what the book would be...but it would be something...good.

This time of the year, being so inspiring, would be a wonderful time to write, paint, or do any of the other activities I never have time to do anymore. I'm not complaining though! Every second I get the chance to I've been spending outside in the sun reading for my classes!

I love the 80s--and not just the decade--the temperatures too! :)

A Publishing Friend

A publishing friend of mine will be doing some serious work for Writer's Digest, which is writer's community focused on getting people published: Check it Out.