Blog - Optional

I felt like writing a poem today, so here it is. I won't make you all write blogs this week because you have so much due...but if you want to write one you can, and I will comment on it. 

Victoria Elementary School Playground - December 

1:15 PM - There are snow blotches on the ground 

where shadows are. I used to come here

on days which are indefinite days

to swing and sing and scream. 

I would wear the same converse sneakers I am wearing today,

which should be ironic, but it is mainly just

what it is. 

So I swing. And sing. And scream. 

It feels like 5 years ago which feels like right now

which feels indefinite. I'm stronger now,

and when I kick with my left foot against the mound of mulch,

I go so high the chains retract,

threatening to release me, but I stare straight up

at the sky until tears push me into the earth again. 

I realize if this were kindergarden, they would judge me

for having a wet butt from neglecting to wipe 

the snow from the swing seat. 

I realize if this were now, they would judge me 

for trying to be a kid again.

They wouldn't understand that there is no

such thing as "again." 

Blog Assignment - Due Friday December 3, 2010

Ugh. I cannot think of a prompt this week! I stole one from davidrm.com, though

Journaling Prompt - Creating lists can be a provocative way of assessing your creative internal thoughts and can spur insightful contemplation. When writing your lists, write what comes to mind, even if you feel it is a bit odd. List 15 things that change. List 15 things that do not change. (Hint don't stop at ten, challenge yourself; go on to 15.) Continue by using your lists for journal entry subjects, fiction or non-fiction writing.

(http://www.davidrm.com/thejournal/tjresources-exercises.php)

So, create the list (you can post that or not post that), then make a poem out of one of the items. Or more then one - whatever feels right. Remember when you write the list that it does not have to make "sense" - just write what feels right and what comes to mind first. Trust me. 

Things That Do Not Change: 

1. My Age

2. Those words you said that one day

3. The notes on the piano

4. The taste of mac and cheese 

5. The smell of an attic

6. The look of bird seed on snow

7. Feeling Desire 

8. Wind on your face

9. The graveyard

10. Sleeping

11. The rhythm of jumping rope

12. Electricity 

13. Wanting to change

14. Resistance 

15. The crunching sound the blade makes on the ice 

OK - I will pick numbers 13 and 2 for my poem. Here it is: 

i've spent my entire life on the look out

for regret. it lingers and has always lingered 

close behind me, brushing my heels with its teeth

about to sink deep into my veins. i wish i could feel it. 

like the rest of the world. i wish i were them, wishing they 

were somewhere else, wishing they were someone else. but 

i am happy and content with never being happy or content. let's 

go back to a time when we were eight in a yellow tube on

some playground somewhere and i was wondering what 

i did that was so horrible and you said "we shouldn't 

be friends for awhile." at that moment it became a 

yellow tube that was everywhere and no where

at once. would you take that moment back?

or would you keep it there like a thorn

deep in the confines of my mind 

to marinate until the one day

when i would need to say

"hey, remember that

one time in   the 

yellow tube?"

 

Extra Credit - +5 points to the grade of your choice (can be test grade, paper grade, etc)

Attend one of the events at this writing convention in Appomattox for extra credit! You will need to write a one page "review" of the event - what did you learn? What happened? Was it beneficial? Etc...

Event flier:

https://sites.google.com/a/args.us/writers/

Schedule:

https://sites.google.com/a/args.us/writers/home/schedule-of-events

Optional Blog Assignment - Due Whenever

Write a poem on a "predictable" subject, but have your tone create a twisted interpretation. For example, you could write a poem about death but have the tone be happy. Or birth but have the poem feel strained or depressing. The title of your poem should be taken from a line in the poem itself (or part of a line)

Here is my example:

Zero

She came out screaming
and the nurse slapped her feet.

We looked at each other knowing we were beat -
beat from exhausion, beat by Fate.

I saw my daughter for 46 empty seconds,
all I could do was count

her fingers and toes like they do in those movies (20)
her eyes (2), her knees (2), her elbows (2), her eye brows (2)

how many times the doctor called CODE RED (7)
how many times the nurse screamed GET HER OUT OF HERE (13)

how many tears from my husband hit my cheek (8)
how many times I ever saw him cry in our lives (2)

how many times I got married (1)
how many months we tried to have a baby (74)

how many miscarriages (2)
how many majors I chose in college (4)

how many times I hit that girl for stealing my boyfriend (16)
how many teachers that told me I was better than this town (1)

how many months I had to work to buy my first car (24)
how many times I slow danced with my first boyfriend (12)

how many times my brother punched a hole in his wall (5)
how many times my sister left me at softball practice (7)

how many times I told my mom I wanted to be an actress (8)
how many times she listened (0)

how many times the nurse squeezed my hand and said "I'm sorry, baby" (9)
how many times my husband shouted out DO SOMETHING (13)

how many times the doctor said "We've done all we can" (13)
how many times the nurse asked "what's her name s'posed to be, baby?" (3)

how many times I answered (0).

Next Blog Assignment - Due Friday November 19, 2010

Start a short story or a poem with a quote by someone else. This could be a famous person or not. The story or poem should then "explain" the quote...or be what the quote means to you, etc.

Example:

Always

"As artists, we are eternally heartbroken." - Lady Gaga

i'll never find happiness.
i'll never be satisfied.

i'll never stop fighting.
i'll never stop being.

i'll never be okay with the world.
i'll never be able to look you in the eye.

i'll never feel free.
i'll never feel real.

i'll never have that moment people talk about.
i'll never even think about it.

yeah, i'll never find happiness,
but i'll never stop looking, either.

i'll never stop being me.
i'll never stop...

A Doll's House Review Quiz

Here is the online quiz to see if you are ready for the Test Monday*


http://www.makeaquiz.net/quiz.php?quiz=25275&k=ddd4ddb32d7e9acbeb9a9af858874228


*In no way is this a direct reflection of the test on Monday. There will more questions and different types of questions.

Next Blog Assignment - Due Friday November 12

We have already written pieces about being Trapped...now let us take the notion of being Free. Write a poem or short story about being Free. What does it mean to be Free? You could just define what it means, or you could create an instance or story that you think depicts this feeling.

And I will comment on last weeks blogs tonight, by the way. :)

My example - I don't really like it, but it works for an example I suppose...

Free

Is it even possible to be Free?
To have someone accept me for just...me?
To be able to walk down the street with my head held high,
To be able to live each day without telling a lie?

When I look at the world, I think no one is there.
No one feels as if he or she is treated fair.
No one agrees, and yet no one talks,
No one is turning on a light in the dark.

Maybe just knowing this makes me Free...
Does acceptance or love or equality make me me?
Do I really need to walk down the street with my headheld high?
Do I really care whether or not my life is a lie?

Is there really a clean-cut definition out there,
or am I the only one who cares?

Another Example

Here is an example of a poem about an EVENT that made you feel infinite....

By the way...remember to comment on at least one other blog. Some of you have not done this yet.

I am going to attempt to do an acrostic poem, which means the first letter of each line spell something out...I think I will do some sort of rhyme scheme too (I must be bored...)

When you are born without an age
E'verything makes sense until you
Realize the whole world wants you to go to college, get a pet, get engaged...
Ever since that night we drove to new york...i mean, i had no clue.
I thought we were invincible. i thought
No one could touch us...we were standing on astor street
Forgetting about everyone and everything around us...we were caught
In a fantasy world that i have never been able to again meet.
No one was starring directly, but everyone and everything searched our disposition for what it means.
If i were to die right now i would be a legend.
That was the night we drove to new york to scream.
Everything around us enclosing our voices until the world threatened to end.

Next Blog Assignment.. Due Friday November 4

Backtracking to Perks of Being a Wallflower...write about a time you felt infinite...or perhaps a person who made you feel infinite. I was writing a few nights ago, and I wrote this poem that reminded me of feeling infinite. So, here is my example... (it is a sonnet, by the way).... obviously my poem is an example of a person who makes me feel infinite, but you could also write about an event. It could be a short story if you want, too.

Counting the Folds

For Calvin

The folds of your leather jacket

are like the wrinkles of my grandfather's skin.

I'm telling you this isn't a love tactic,

this isn't the time we screamed into the wind. 

This has something to do with invincibility.

So, we try to find rainbows to pass time

until talking about nothing acts as sustainability

and the subtle swoosh of the swinging door breaks the sublime...

I've heard that soul mates have to follow a certain pattern

of blissful epiphanies and eternal moments,

but I have never felt closer to my soul when my world was shattered.

Therefore, it seems only fitting you leave the day I finally feel fulfillment.

       (What is anything if it cannot be shattered?

       On some level, I think we all want to be bruised and battered...)

Next Blog Assigment: Due Friday Oct 29

Write a poem or short story about a character that is trapped physically AND metaphorically (the poem should, therefore, be a metaphor itself)

Example:

Locker # 275

If you tilt your head to the right about half an inch
and focus in on the freckle at the tip of your nose,
the flickering light from the hallway makes shadows.
Shadow. No shadow. Shadow. No shadow.

If you make a sound someone will hear you -
That teacher in the lab or the librarian or the custodian -
someone is always there to hear you
but never to listen to you.

So you stand as quietly as you can, your ankle
wrapped against your calf your wrist
bent behind your back your shoulders
pressed against that mirror your mom bought you from Target.

You know they will find your eventually because someone will
notice you aren't there in Algebra, and someone will snicker
until someone calls the office and someone
bustles through papers to find the locker combination because you certainly won't tell them.

You imagine wanting to make a sound.
You imagine wanting to be found,
wanting to be asked if you are OK,
wanting to be given a bag of ice for a black eye. . .

You think for a moment -
what if you had never worn that shirt to school or what if
you had never cut your hair that way or what if
you had never sat at that lunch table or what if...

what if you had never decided
that Happiness was worth it?
What if...
what if you had never been born?

Assignment: Due September 30, 2010

Sorry I was a little late posting this assignment...
I am working with some people putting together a Thanksgiving care package for soldiers in Afghanistan. Your assignment this week is to come up with a poem (or short story!) about Thanksgiving or Autumn (maybe a happy Thanksgiving moment? Or a descriptive piece about autumn leaves on the ground?)

Bonus points if you come up with a poem IN FORM (sonnet, villanelle, sestina, a SERIES of haikus, etc) or a short story that is more than two pages in Microsoft Word.

New Journal to Submit To..

A new literary journal based out of Richmond/Midlothian area. I encourage you all to submit!!

http://www.hulltown.com/index.html

Blogging Assignment: Due September 23, 2010

In Beowulf, the narrator goes into extensive detail about important artifacts in the story (swords, battle armor, horses, etc). Choose something of importance in your life and write an extensive history about the object. The key word being "extensive" (I am looking for more than 20 lines). This can be a prose piece or a poem (either one you choose has to be over 20 lines). The title of the piece must be the name of the object (do not include the word "my" in the title).

Example:

Violin

In 1926 in a small town in Germany lies
A discreet violin shop down an old dirt road
(I guess most roads were dirt back then).
A man finishes the carvings on the elaborate scroll.
His dulled tool pushes up,
Carving indentions into the smooth cheery wood
(A tree some 120 years old cut down outside the man's cottage).
The man is wary and old
Reserved, yet sensible. He wanted to make one
"Just like zee Strativarious" (the infamous violins
Sold for millions of dollars).
But this man didn't have the talent of Antonio
Stardivari, or so he said on his
Death bed. 85 winters pass,
And the violin has been places and seen things,
Gotten scars and bruises, until the Appraiser decides it is
"A Strativarious-Similar"
And declares it worth $5,000.
On Forest Hill Ave, Richmond, Virginia it waits
For someone to notice -
     The egg-white and honey veneer.
     The battle wounds from years of being abused by a young girl in Paris (who likely shouldn't have been allowed such an expensive toy)
     The blood stain from the teenager in St. Louis who "didn't have what it takes."
     Or the unhappiness of the old man
     Who died thinking it was no where near as good as Strativarious.

Everyone Needs to Be Following Katelyn

Here is the link to her blog:

kbagley12.blogspot.com

Teen Ink

Hello class!

For the extra credit...if you cannot find a place to submit on the list I posted, you can also submit here:

http://www.teenink.com/submit

Blogging Assignment: Due September 16, 2010

Read about found poetry on Wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Found_poetry

Create your own "found poem" using only words or phrases from Beowulf. You cannot add your own words! The words and phrases do not have to be in order of the poem, you may rearrange them however you like, and the topic of your poem can be your choice.

Example:

Defeat

a suckling child,
fearless of sorrow,
refused consent for the feud.
" pact of peace," spake in answer
To folk afar
"but with gripe alone must I front the fiend and fight for life."

awaits he ever...
labored in woe for the loss.

Intolerance

Basks in the wrath of reluctance

and refusal. It lingers...

A young Asian boy sneaks to his corner
of the brick rancher house on Washington and 3rd.
He pauses before he paints
his thumb-nail black, then red, then black again.
And his father comes
slaps him across the cheek
The rose-colored flesh radiates with heat
And the mark lingers...

Meanwhile

A forty-something White man signs in his corner
of the shiny-squared office building on Jefferson and H.
He hesitates before he presses "call"
on his cellphone, then "end," then "call" again
And his mother answers,
"You shoulda never married that Black girl, Jummy."
Click.
And the dial tone lingers...

Intolerance.

Maybe it isn't reluctance or refusal
maybe it is fear.

Everytime I open my mouth or
write with my pen
someone calls me angry or
someone calls me a hero.

I am not angry.
I am not a hero.
I was just born
this way. Fighting, hoping, and then
fighting again.

In - tolerance.
Tolerance. In
tolernace.
Those two letters can be life or death, happiness or depression...
And yet still
the "in" lingers,
masks the world in a deep fog.
And we -
we "human beings" -
we bask in the fog
until someone brave enough comes along,
turns on a light, and we say
"Yeah. Uh-huh. I like that person."
Until the light runs out
And we breathe deep again
Into the lingering fog that won't settle.

Extra Credit Alert!

For Extra Credit: Submit one of your writings (or more than one!) to be published. Below is a link to magazines/ journals looking for submissions. In order to get the credit, you must show me your submission envelope and tell me which magazine to which you are submitting.
Please note:
To submit work you often need:
* An entry fee: Anywhere from free to $30 or more. Be sure you read the entry fee and are prepared to pay it before you submit.
* SASE: Self-Addressed Stamped Envelope

The more you submit your work, the more you up your chances of being published. Do not expect to be published the first place you submit to...or the first 100 places.

Here is the link:

http://www.pw.org/grants?sort=asc&order=Deadline&apage=*

Ode to The Clothes-Spinner

I notice a small stain on my shirt

From when I ate an ice-meal

In the teacher’s lounge on Tuesday

So I meander down the stairs-

Half asleep it seems-

I walk up to my clothes-spinner.

Turning it on is second nature,

The luke warm water pours

And I watch as the stain disappears

Under the blue cleaner-gel.

Oh clothes-spinner!

Without you I would surely be lost!

Just think of a time when people had manually scrub

The stains on their shirts

From ice-meals eaten

In the teacher’s lounge on a Tuesday.