Monday, February 28, 2011

Free Write 1, Week 7

The Perfect Bar.

The bar must be secluded, intimate for conversation yet still retain a certain amount of interesting people. People with stories of their adventures as longshoreman in The North, people of the Wharf and surf. Or even people who can explain the geometry of billiards or how the engine block works. Next, the beer must be cheep and you must befriend the bartenders. These two 'musts' are the result of a single purpose, money. I don't want to spend a lot of it when I buy drinks and if the bartender likes you enough they might give you the freebie once in a while. Also misconduct and non-gentlemen like behavior can be handled void of Law enforcement. The last requirement is that it must be an environment of joy and not of depression or anger. I wish to see no sad saps crying into their gin and fizz nor do i wish to be accosted by a drunken youth. I wish to be in peace, in a place that unconsciously opens the mind and makes you think of strangers as people, with the aid of liquid courage.

Calistenic 1, Week 7

1) Why is the check engine light always on?
-Because the engine always wanted the be the transmission.
-Because they no longer teach auto shop in school anymore.
-Because the shady yuppie you bought it from is a strict capitalist.
-Because the car won't pass emissions unless the light is off and you can't see if the new thousand dollar part for the car works unless you drive it around, but you can't drive it around until you get a new tag which you won't get unless you pass emissions.
-Because the car is a terrorist and emotionally withholding.
-Because its a BMW, "The ultimate driving machine" and hipsters love irony.
-Because you just can't have a convertible and have it in working condition, cosmicly speaking.
-Because the car believes that it can make it in the world based on its looks and luck.
-Because the arrogant owner did not offer the proper gasoline, steal and leather sacrifice to the car Gods.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Junkyard 1-4, Week 7

"In the old days people used to study to better themselves. Now they study to impress others." -Confucius.

"Well that's just a part of it". -Pop

'I was watching a television program before, with a kind of roving moderator who spoke to a seated panel of young women who were having some sort of problem with their boyfriends - apparently, because the boyfriends had all slept with the girlfriends' mothers. And they brought the boyfriends out, and they fought, right there on television. Toby, tell me: these people don't vote, do they?'Jeb Bartlet; The West Wing

"so lets talk about this hypothetical pizza." -Roommate

Monday, February 21, 2011

Response 2, Week 6: Erickson

Erickson the structure of this work is very complex, yet you handle it gracefully. The expansion of the poems lines creates tension as you read the stanza, if the reader didn’t cheat and look at the bottom of the stanza, it’s my favorite part. What I love most about this poem is the emotion reaction it creates for the reader through the tension, you literally feel something as your eyes scan the page and it was very well structured. I feel as though the images could have been a little richer and thus added to the drama of the piece, but that can be easily done upon review of the work. Well done sir.

Response 1, Week 6; Elizabeth Wood

Elizabeth, as you have read from me, I am in love with southern culture and the imagery that your writing presents was fantastic. I love how you started off the work with the phrase ‘Northern Aggression’ and followed up this lament by capitalizing the phrase. This really creates an emphasis on the confusion between northern and southern culture and enhances the tension between the speaker and the person being addressed. Next I’d like to say that your ‘southern’ images are spot on. The red clay, used tires and fried green tomatoes really create a sense of authenticity and you handled the cataloguing of these images with grace. The humor used also created a very enjoyable read.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Calisthenic 1, Week 6. Object Studies: A pen

"Are you the kind of person who brings more than one writing utensil to class because apparently I'm the kind of person who doesn't bring any writing utensils to class".

Rolling pin cylindrical, Keys to many mental cell, O' liberator of thought.
I'll jam you into the heart of the page and set free the life.
Once, in high school, I was stabbed in the back with a pencil.
If we could, we'd save the world from its misery, slaying page after page.
Alas we cannot. For it seems I have forgotten you on the bus.

I used the prompt in the back of the section 1 exercises.

Improve 1, Week 6

Thank You by Mostafa Abderlrahman

Thanks for always being there for me.
Thanks for that person you helped me to be
Thanks that you never let me be alone
Thanks that forever you promise to be my own
Thanks for black memories you helped me to remove Thanks for loyalty that every day you prove
Thanks for the smile you put back on my face
Thanks that my loneliness has got no more space
Thanks for your patience that time I was so fool
Thanks you forget that whenever you get my call
If life has got some justice I'd thank you forever
It wouldn’t be enough, , , , for the best person ever

No Thank You by Ben McClain

No thank you V necks, Ed hardy or non-blind people who wear sunglasses indoors.
No thanks to your ironic Cosby sweaters two sizes too small.
NO thanks to 'men' in skinny jeans.
No thanks to any kind of liquor that comes in a plastic bottle.
No thanks to keystone, I'm not Greek.
No thanks economy, unemployment, fear mongers and Glen (Theirs no crying in politics) Beck.
No thanks to suffering, to starving families, to Bernie FUCKING Madoff
No thanks to unshared beds.
No thanks to thoughts of you.
No thanks to not being good enough.
No thanks to you.

Free Write 1, Week 6

Party notes, taken from an unfortunately sober point of view.

-Two fully grown men are playing WWE in the front yard.
-Three girls are crying somewhere in the house.
-Five hippies are standing around a fire.
-Two shirtless white guy are sandwiched between two big, black girls.
-Eight people are sitting on the owners bed, smoking pot.
-Ten guys and ten girls are going home alone.
-Five of Ten drunk hook-ups went poorly.
-Zero children conceived, hopefully.
-Thirty red cups.
-Five different kinds of vodka.
-Hundreds of beer.
-One sober house owner in case the cops come.
-Zero cops the entire night.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Junkyard 1-4, Week 6

"Yes, if you don't like it you can leave. This isn't Eric Robert's tepee you know?" -30 Rock

EX-GF- "Are you under the influence of anything"?
Me- "Ice coffee and Camel lights Mom why"?

"Amours fog" - Over heard in one of my classes

"I was throw out of collage for cheating on a metaphysics exam. I was looking into the soul of the boy sitting next to me."-Woody Allen.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Response 2, Week 5. Ray

Ray the title of this work is fantastic, it does a wonderful job at reinforcing the desperation felt in the tone of the work. The way that you mix the image of the 'big city' and 'sands of Puerto Rican beach' was also interesting and clued the reader into the mind of the subject. Things I would work on would be your word choice. 'Vast Sky' is a given, 'utter chaos' has been used often, as has 'hell hole'. However, the imagery with the astrological sighs was really enjoyable to read. How you voiced Sagittarius as the most important sign because it takes up the whole sky was interesting and amusing. Also how you mixed the theme of destiny with the stars creates a Shakespearean 'star-crossed' effect. Well done Sir.

Responce 1, Week 5. Erickson

Erickson, this is a lovely bit of writing that has many admirable qualities. First off I love the way you artfully 'handled' the personification of hand throughout the work. The way the hands learn and mold and create; I like the way you give hands a personality and essentially make them a person. I also greatly enjoyed the dichotomy you build with how differently the hands 'handles' things. You made the reader consciously aware of the fact that we approach things differently with our touch and our grasp. The repetition of 'fists' at the end unsettled the flow of the work a little in my eyes, considering the repetition of 'hands'. I also thought it was very clever how you ended the work with good-bye.

Free Write 1, Week 5

What happened to my friend? Where has he gone? Where is the person who taught me how to roll? Where is the person who taught me reason? Where has your reason gone? Remember the mountain in the quad where we burned our sacrifice? Remember where the rocks where we set our bond? Remember when our names became one and our bond was forged? Remember gin and tonic and the guy who can make the best in Europe? Best of the world, bad grammar on the blue World Cup flag. Where have you gone? Where is my friend? Lost and alone in the prison you built, I weep for us both.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Sign Inventory 1, Week 5

"Out, Out" By Robert Frost
The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood, Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it. And from there those that lifted eyes could count Five mountain ranges one behind the other Under the sunset far into Vermont. And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled, As it ran light, or had to bear a load. And nothing happened: day was all but done. Call it a day, I wish they might have said To please the boy by giving him the half hour That a boy counts so much when saved from work. His sister stood beside him in her apron To tell them "Supper." At the word, the saw, As if it meant to prove saws know what supper meant, Leaped out at the boy's hand, or seemed to leap - He must have given the hand. However it was, Neither refused the meeting. But the hand! Half in appeal, but half as if to keep The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all - Since he was old enough to know, big boy Doing a man's work, though a child at heart - He saw all was spoiled. "Don't let him cut my hand off - The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!" So. The hand was gone already. The doctor put him in the dark of ether. He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath. And then - the watcher at his pulse took a fright. No one believed. They listened to his heart. Little - less - nothing! - and that ended it. No more to build on there. And they, since they Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.

-Title allusion to Macbeth
-Title reinforces theme of poem which is brevity of life.
-Snarled and rattled repeated, personifying the saw.
-Alteration with S sounds, IE: "sweet-scented stuff" and "saw snarled"
-Synecdoche; "to keep the life from spilling"
-Dark of ether= sedation. interesting word choice.
-Poem presented unbroken, paragraph form.
-Omnipresent speaker.
-"Little - less - nothing" creates rhythmic effect of a dying heart beat.
-Title also reinforced by the reaction of the people, knowing that life is short and can be taken the away at anytime, they continue there "affairs"
-Uses dialogue between characters to express emotions, telling over showing.
-no one is given a name, distancing the speaker from the action.
-Imagery is gray and dark, like it is about to snow.

Calistenic 1, Week 5

Contraction Rewrite.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others" -Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love.

My Rewrite.

Not Inadequate by Benjamin McClain

My fear is not inadequacy.
My fear is power beyond measure.
My light, never my darkness stirs me.
We fearfully ask the night,
Who am I to be Talented?
Who am I to be Brilliant?

Who am I not to Be?
For we are of God.
No illumination can be derived from timid search.
No enlightenment gained from shrinking for others.
Playing small does not serve the world.
Shine my friend, As children do.

And as we shine, our presence allows others.
And as we are liberated from our fears,
we allow others to do the same.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Junkyard 1-4, Week 5

"It's about the economy of the soul" -Dad

"Ras Clot" -?, patios for a dirty word.

"I can't even see through the walls man" -Tboi

"I'm a little bo-ho"-Brit

Monday, February 7, 2011

Response to Sydney, Week 4

What I like about this verse is the wonderful and diverse use of imagrey and language. You artfully matched the proper word to the image that best suits it, this creates such a symphony of image that really comes alive on the page and is a great joy for the reader. Also I like the sexual tone that the verse takes points, that's a very brave choice and you handled it well. If I were to afford any criticism it would be that perhaps the work could use another round of condensing, I felt myself becoming lost at some points but that's only a minor issue. At any rate well done dear. Response

Sign inventory 1, Week 4

The Trouble with Poetry by Bill Collins

The trouble with poetry, I realized
as I walked along a beach one night --
cold Florida sand under my bare feet,
a show of stars in the sky --

the trouble with poetry is
that it encourages the writing of more poetry,
more guppies crowding the fish tank,
more baby rabbits
hopping out of their mothers into the dewy grass.

And how will it ever end?
unless the day finally arrives
when we have compared everything in the world
to everything else in the world,

and there is nothing left to do
but quietly close our notebooks
and sit with our hands folded on our desks.

Poetry fills me with joy
and I rise like a feather in the wind.
Poetry fills me with sorrow
and I sink like a chain flung from a bridge.

But mostly poetry fills me
with the urge to write poetry,
to sit in the dark and wait for a little flame
to appear at the tip of my pencil.

-Begins with the subject, then gives us some imagery.
-Completely leaves audience in the wind in the first stanza.
-Imagery in the first stanza has a feeling of isolation, reinforced by the 'cold sand'
-'Cold sand' contrasts with the setting IE; a beach in Fl
-Very descriptive second stanza, poet tells the audience the trouble with words and several descriptions.
-Animal imagery used to explain human behavior in the second stanza
-third and forth stanza parallel each other, the first telling the action and the second describing it.
-fifth stanza exhibits contrary imagrey with the feather and the chain, joy and sorrow.
-end with an image of the Muse or the Spark that generates all verse.

Calisthenic 1, Week 4

Abstract to concrete.

deceit- People who want to be in charge.
dedication- a father teaching his son to ride a bike
curiosity- a moth to a flame
trust- your rock climbing spotter
relaxation- a sweating glass of lemonade
Bravery- Rooster Cogburn
Loyalty- the sun and the moon
Honesty- the flame of a candle
Compassion- Mother Superior
Charity- pulling the plug
Skill- splitting an arrow
Beauty- a maple leaf
Brilliance- e=mc^2
Pain- a shot to the knee-cap
Misery- Fargo

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Junkyard Quotes 1-4, Week 4

"Please don't make fun of me. I just wanted to flirt with you." Steve Zissou

"I think I'd miss you even if we never met." ?

"Drug dealers hang around me like yes me and they gonna do whatever I says when I says it. It's in there best interest to protect there investment." Eminem

-"Years ago you trusted my opinion" -Bobby
-"Years ago you were easier to trust" -Me

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Free Write 1, Week 4

This is my attempt at a stream-of-conscious verse. Maybe one day I'll be confident enough to not put a disclaimer at the head of each verse. :)

Its two-pairs-of-gloves cold. The kind of conditions that makes me wish I had a girlfriend or at least an Ex that still talked to me. White knuckles clutch my counter-productive cocktail and I sit on my porch, drinking every time I see a car pass. White truck, drink. Black van, drink. Green Yaris, drink twice. I’m not going to bore you with the details, but I will say that loving her is like chasing a train going in the wrong direction. Alas, the wheels go round, the trouble with that is you can’t see the mechanism while you’re riding. She told me once,”The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence” as it relegates to WMD’S and my begrudged affection. Watch me as I pull Significance out of this black top-hat and holding it by its ears I'll show the starved audience.