You’re a loner in body, mind, and soul. A writer who spends a day of
solitude in the office is plagued by a mind that travels with the body.
The work never stops.”
―
Bruce Obee
Monday, April 2, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Reading Response 1 Week 9
This weeks reading response is to Florida Lives by Dionne Irving. Upon Reading this short story i understood the concepts of the class based discussion we had back on Thursday. The way that Irving presented her characters in her story is an interesting mix from the usual stories I've read. At first I empathized with the character's but noticed how Irving went about setting her scene and that made me take more notice about the area of Florida that the character's reside in more than the character development. Yet, with regards to the characters, I also took note of how she made such complex characters in such a short amount of pages. Maybe as far as poetry is concerned, how she set up characters might or might not help establish a poem effectively unless a person is the focus of the poem. A future draft however, I could see utilizing this information to establish a character that is complex on many levels, but would allow the reader to analyze text further in order to understand a story more.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Free Verse 1 Week 9
Revisions once again :
previous:http://djaxxs.blogspot.com/2012/02/free-verse-1-week-5.html
Updated:
previous:http://djaxxs.blogspot.com/2012/02/free-verse-1-week-5.html
Updated:
Resting,
between couchs on blue granite waiting
for the thorns of history
lost in mechanical caxtons. Specifically,
beginnings of Mesopotamian civilizations lower than the seaweed marble staring back at me with its
lost in mechanical caxtons. Specifically,
beginnings of Mesopotamian civilizations lower than the seaweed marble staring back at me with its
graveyard
countenance.
Across from Einstein's bagels and WGC compact posts
Across from Einstein's bagels and WGC compact posts
I'm staring, at this stained
seat with its lint and funny smell
its pages apart from the true history I'm waiting on.
The one where this book named MC and its wrinkled spine is burning
seat with its lint and funny smell
its pages apart from the true history I'm waiting on.
The one where this book named MC and its wrinkled spine is burning
and its spoken
into existence by Homer,
showing me the path to walk with closed eyes and a open heart.
Revealing his crinkled and decrepit hands and pointing to the outer bounds
of 1601 Maple Street. Some unspoken agreement
between him and Virgil made me strafe in Limbo,
the inferno that reduced
lies by Dante
to ash. Ash, ash, crumbling and
Strawberry ice cream I've longed for while my lips
dried out and cut down
by trees...
showing me the path to walk with closed eyes and a open heart.
Revealing his crinkled and decrepit hands and pointing to the outer bounds
of 1601 Maple Street. Some unspoken agreement
between him and Virgil made me strafe in Limbo,
the inferno that reduced
lies by Dante
to ash. Ash, ash, crumbling and
Strawberry ice cream I've longed for while my lips
dried out and cut down
by trees...
Blistex which betrayed me.
Betrayed
the true history of the world through its 3 clicks:
back then, here, and what's happening.
Wondering if my oratorical skill will stand the test of
spoken achievement (or history conceiving) when they look back on
the living I've done and what they've done.
To the true history they trying to get rid of.
In these three clicks.
Betrayed
the true history of the world through its 3 clicks:
back then, here, and what's happening.
Wondering if my oratorical skill will stand the test of
spoken achievement (or history conceiving) when they look back on
the living I've done and what they've done.
To the true history they trying to get rid of.
In these three clicks.
Calisthenics 1 Week 9
This time with this weeks calisthenics, i decided to rewrite another one and improve on it some more. here are the two originals:
* Uncle! the stars look like cereal, and the moon, a marshmallow
*The moon riding rivers, while the stars remain dominant over the blankets of time (sounds a tad clichish' but i'm wondering where).
*The moon's half past 12 , stars shining like limelight, forcing the corners of the room to move back... (I'm sure theres a better way to describe the sky, but I want to liken it to a massive room.)
*Uncle, the stars are crashing into each other, painting the sky with streams of milk while the moon is waiting to split the sky with the sun.
*The moon surfing the sky and the stars are cheering him on light years away.
*Dipping below the medium, stars are lime seeds, pushing the corners of the galaxy back.
heres mine:
Daniel! if you look past this canary yellow shirt, you'll see that the stars are melting over the moon, pushing it further into the ground.
The moon's gliding, slowly past his fans, into his day.
Sailing into the equator, the galaxy struggling to fight back against stars.
* Uncle! the stars look like cereal, and the moon, a marshmallow
*The moon riding rivers, while the stars remain dominant over the blankets of time (sounds a tad clichish' but i'm wondering where).
*The moon's half past 12 , stars shining like limelight, forcing the corners of the room to move back... (I'm sure theres a better way to describe the sky, but I want to liken it to a massive room.)
*Uncle, the stars are crashing into each other, painting the sky with streams of milk while the moon is waiting to split the sky with the sun.
*The moon surfing the sky and the stars are cheering him on light years away.
*Dipping below the medium, stars are lime seeds, pushing the corners of the galaxy back.
heres mine:
Daniel! if you look past this canary yellow shirt, you'll see that the stars are melting over the moon, pushing it further into the ground.
The moon's gliding, slowly past his fans, into his day.
Sailing into the equator, the galaxy struggling to fight back against stars.
Improv 1 Week 9
This week's improv is a revision of a previous one here is the original piece:
my piece:
Are
your hands trembling, seconds before
mouthing, enunciating your slurs, with hopes
or goals for the coming trials
I decided to move somethings around and this is what i got.
Is some
thing violently caressing words that
form, mouthing seconds and slurs,
of trials of hope.
my piece:
Are
your hands trembling, seconds before
mouthing, enunciating your slurs, with hopes
or goals for the coming trials
I decided to move somethings around and this is what i got.
Is some
thing violently caressing words that
form, mouthing seconds and slurs,
of trials of hope.
Junkyard Quote 4 Week 9
The July sun caused a fragment of black pine wax to ooze on the velvet
quilt.
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