Post 56- Progress has been made! I-WORLD IS COMING.

These are some new poems I've written, everyone. There were more, but they were too experimental in structure to even type up. SO. Enjoy these! And I'm terribly sorry it took so long. Sometimes you have to just wait for the inspiration to start writing.

Once I finally decided to sit down and actually 

write something 

I was confused at the new list of 

priorities 

my life had established to far remove the pleasure of creativity and instead 

convert

 its entirety to a sort of 'dish-washing' chore, 

but moreso it was that that idea itself was merely a fabrication, 

because all I wanted was to sit inside and dream. 

Why do we torment ourselves?

Where

                    I

                                                                                                    Am over there

                                                                                                    Perched neatly above

            Flower Petals

                                  and

         Cherry Blossoms.

                                                                                                                 Because I want to be.

There isn't much to actually starting a journey

Seeing as how we're all one existential example

But are we supposed to love life along the way?

"All about the journey" but scared little girls

And bullied teens won't agree

The definitional phrasing seems to be independent

Of subject or context and more akin to

A sublimation of perception.

C'est La Vie.

So it goes.

Every student that walks by keeps 

OgGlinG

At my pages as if I'm

(hiding something)

Or about to REVEAL who they are.

I wish they were more concerned about the

Sustainibility-y-y-y-y-y-y

Of noiseless shoes

That keep interrupting my simple scrawls

By thwomping or scuffling over the stairs.

But next they'll be complaining about how

I rap my knuckles when in thought

And we can't have that, or society will surely buckle.

I

Must write more poetry

Who is I?

Why do we make him write more

God-Forsaken

poetry...

                              There's plenty

                                                                                                POETRY

 P                               Of Poetry

oe                                                                         Poetry                     look here! more poetry!

try                                                                          poetry

But perhaps it's just

He who has to do it.

I think it's funny how words themselves paint

a picture in that clouded

vestigial

membrane

called the MIND

that's neither here, nor there.

To think that little spark of neurons going on

Right now

Popping off one by one

Is literally just a brain-gasm

As you connect bits and pieces together like

So many jigsaws gnarling oaken branches.

And when something doesn't make sense it clutters

And sp-p-p-utterrssss

For a second

Before some little thought

Fixes it, changes the oil, 

And sends it on its way.

Carting the mail of afterthought.

Some thoughts.

Rukeyser's Roads...

What sort of country do the 'roads' in

'Well Then There Now' represent or portray?

A                    twisting, winding, boldly defining but carefully depicted and fragmented visionary piece of our             emotionally charged and altogether explanatory everyday.

Or that's how it seemed to me.

A                    sensory experiment in combination of syntactical revelation and their dictionated counterparts all in lieu with one another, one driving the van

the other tossing the money next to the spare.

In truth the precise nature of an entire country

(through her work)

seems more related to the individual's flavoring,

their hypersensitive tuning to the smallest of details

in every place they've gone. What we get is that the

system is overly complex.

                                                                   

post 55-What am I doing...

I'm so lost atm, everyone.

I say I'm going to post and go on my way worrying about my Club, my recently failed relationship, etc etc and I'm incredibly sorry that you guys, who have given me support for my writing and shown me that there's still positive feedback for poetry and writing, have been left behind in the chaos.

I swear, by the end of the weekend, something big will be on here. The saddest part is this isn't a new thing; I always go through dry periods because of my life/events that happen.

I hope you are all doing well!

Post 54- Cohabitate and I-World

Enjoy! I got these ideas from my poetry class today (and environmental Lit...we got into some very meta discussions on what it is to 'be' and how poets attempt to toss a thread out to define the things in our world that are undefinable..crazy yea?)


Cohabitate

Populate that natural world
With a sensual ravishment of
Humanitarianism and leave the thinking
To the butterflies who flock to dead antlers
On a creek shore.

Just
Let
It
Be
And
Cohabitate.

I-world

We live in an
eye world full of visionaries who gave us dev
ices to power our too quickly distracted m
inds but what the
I-world is isn't qu
ite so simple...

I think in our own heads is an exc
iting realm of displacement, a n
icely gray area between reality and fixation that can get lost to the t
ides of t
ime if we don't watch where we're going. Dredge up that old pair of
i-glasses and sit down and read a book every once in a wh
ile, before they go extinct and the whole
idea of slowly and organically gathering information is lost to us ent
irely.

That's it for today! Expect more soon, as I work on I-world, my next manuscript. This one isn't limited by titles, but rather construction. It's an entire manuscript based around the idea of visual and tonal changes in poetry!

Take care everyone!

Post 53- It's been 5 days!

I thought I'd let you guys know I'm not dead haha.

Expect some more poems tomorrow and the official start of my next manuscript!

Take care!

Post 52- Take a vote!

Hey there everyone!
It's been one hell of a few days, so here's the gist.

I'd like to know what YOU folks want to read.

Are you content with my poetry? Or would you rather have short stories? Or even news?

This is your chance! Also feel free to suggest a topic that you've wanted to see done, such as a fantasy story or a poem centered on the sun, for example. And you can be more specific than that :P

Hope everyone had a good January!

Post 51- News about me! (And other stuff)

So today for the most part i sat inside waiting to post something because i knew that it was the blackout day. I'm incredibly proud of the blogs that I follow that decided to do it themselves. More power to them, but i'm just too excited!

I am now officially the Club President of the English Club on my campus. In related news, for the third time in its entire history, my school is having a snow day tomorrow. How exciting that I was here for it!

Additionally I've volunteered at the Writing Center here as a tutor, with the prospect of working for the university to help students with papers and to teach group sessions.

I've also got a few new poems for you that I wrote in my Advanced Poetry course, so enjoy!

1 Thing to Find Out More About

Could just be
What I should remember
Because I always seem to forget
Exactly what I shouldn't.

If I knew what to cherish
I might make everything easier,
Make more money,
Bed more women
Or just live a better life
But since such an
Aloof mentality
Condemns me
I'm left with naught
But the
Nonsensical
Ramblings
Of my own head
Which can't recall the reason
For starting a poem
Based on stream of consciousness.

Nostalgia Box

You turn to something
In order to look back
And see
A name
A face
Some sort of cue
To let yourself know about
Important memories
Associated
With a scarf
Or a toy fox
But it really only goes so far
As to make you smile and
Feel the weight
Of an object that can
Transport you
Back
Like one of
Harry's
Teleporting Trophies.

Post 50- Almost a year of blogging!

Although not nonstop. My bad on that one.

I have three things for you today: 2 poems, and a short story/creative essay. I hope you folks enjoy these pieces from last semester ^^

The Greatest Song Ever Written

Would have to reel you in, slowly at first, with rhythms that touch your heart, making it palpitate, bumping into the mind, leaving your skin crawling. It would be personally catered to you, telling a tale of a girl or a boy that remind you of the one that got away, before drifting into guitar and drum solos that touch at the very soul of youth. Certainly, the lack of any and all details in the song would brighten the very foundation of its subject, and all its intricacies, to a point that you forget the tragedies of your past. The singer would be simple in words but complex in reason, with an ensemble from your youth that takes you back in time to a simpler, childlike place filled with nothing but pure happiness and simplicity before the world robbed you of innocence in a way you could never forget. Indeed, it wouldn't be a song so much as a tale or every right, every wrong you had ever done composed into musical notation. It might feature copious amounts of lute play, synthesizer, black metal and bass, but at its root it will always be about YOU. It would never be played on the radio, and you would be the only person that knows about how wonderful it sounds, because it was written by that girl or guy that got away just for you, and as you listen tears might well up in your eyes. Without knowing it, you will be driven to action, to contact them, to ask them if this time it will work, or to forget them and carry on oblivious to the world, a bastion of indignation and a soloist exemplifying the very nature of the music to which you are currently listening. No one will like it as you do, no one will understand it in the same way, and you will be quite alright with that as you walk to class, drive to work, or continue living in the world forever lied to, a child told of all the great things they could have become, and you will contemplate your choices in the same way an old man cries, sad, and alone, for the song isn't a happy one; it is a tragedy of youth and of love, of original hopes and dreams lost but new ones made up, and its beauty will lie in its personal tragedy, tailored, again, to you, the most important audience of all. It will include no pity, no remorse, as it lays down with epic waves of sound-scapes that life will go on, that you will be alright, and that it isn't so much what you have done but what you will do that in the end, will satisfy your tastes, and you'll start up the track again, titled after some obscure thing that you love, and it will again get you beating, living, walking, thinking your way into the world's early morning as the sun crosses the horizon and the dew smiles happily at the dawn. 

Fear

Isn't just a word but a feeling of remorse

Or apprehension as something wicked this way

Comes and you can't quite place a feeling like that,

Real fear,

Because when you try you only remember images or things

That caused you real fear.

It's funny, that generally speaking,

We don't feel it when we know something is coming,

But startle, or surprise us and more often than not we'll exclaim

'Oh you scared me' while you stand there in your scream mask and laugh

At taking advantage of our primal emotions.

And isn't it the scariest when there's a fear you can't escape

And are forced to ride through,

Like a bad dream or a nightmare where the cold dead hands of an ex wife

Come to pry you away from your peaceful life even if you never had one,

Or a shadowy figure asks you for change when you have none,

And sometimes even your pet dog souffle chases you through a maze and you have to run,

Have to,

Because he's frothing at the mouth and rabid from disease.

Or maybe just happy to see you.

And it's this unknown sense of what will happen interspersed with

The moment to moment present terror

In nightmares that really scares me,

Because that can happen at any time and you can't run,

Can't fight,

Can only hope to wake up and realize you shouldn't eat pizza before bed

Or let yourself think dark thoughts like that,

And instead just sit down and write a poem about

The thing that scares you long after breakfast.

Yea, just write a poem about it.

Poles of the Brain

It's a geometric piece I had commissioned

By a local artist so I could show

How sophisticated I am.

She called it 'Poles of the Brain'

And asked me questions beforehand,

So I can only imagine that the curious title

Means I have very opposite Personalities,

Or Thoughts, or Types.

But looking at the Black and White

Triangles on a sea of Blue, under a

Purple and Red sunset with no sun

I feel it is more at peace with me

Than I thought at first.

She really is a good artist,

I think.