"Not the Bad Heroin, the Good Heroin..."
Sep. 17th, 2010 12:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
psalm_onethirtyoneHELLO poetry class has robbed my soul but here is some of my nonsense:
Assignment: Write a poem entitled The ____ of ____. Use concrete images.
The bitterness stone
falls into your pocket.
You aren’t expecting it.
Your heart closes down--but not quickly:
first you have a going-out-of-business sale
like the bankrupt Hallmark in York.
Your neighbours enter curiously--they’ve never shopped here before.
Like unruly children, they want to touch.
They buy your secrets for half price.
Finally the shelves are empty
but the bitterness stone
is heavy in your pocket.
You read Zane Grey to pass the time. You cook dinner but
on bad days it’s takeout reheated in the microwave.
Church starts to feel like a movie you paid too much to see.
God is a pretty bad director.
Still, when your mother calls
you say you’re fine;
you don’t want
to worry her.
One day the stone gets so heavy it pulls you down
into the earth.
But you always expected that.
Your mouth is full of dirt.
It tastes bitter.
---
Assignment: Write a bad poem.
i'm thinking
this cup is a metaphor for humanity
white and plastic
and cheap
and i'm thinking the only way
to fix the situation
is to embrace, to clasp, the
ceramic coffee mug of love
in our hot little collective hands
and for God's sake
to overthrow Starbucks
because that goddamn barrista gave me a Canadian nickel in my change again that shit is not real money this is AMERICA people
---
Assignment: Write a poem including the words 'lieutenant, army, shamrock, drinking, and west'. Must be no more than twelve lines.
One night while we were drinking
the lieutenant started asking
about the shamrock-shaped scar
on my thigh
and I made up fine stories
of West Berlin and Poland
and he got drunk and forgot it
and I
stayed looking at the stars fall
over our restless army
and wondered whether you at least
remembered why.
---
Assignment: Write a poem including the words 'cups, grey, life, ship, and kitchen'. Must be no more than twelve lines.
When he's in his cups he pulls her into his lap
and Anna gathers her skirts,
worn grey from her days in the kitchen,
to let him wrap his arms
around her waist.
"Life's grown tired," he says. She
murmurs sympathy.
Mama always said someday your soul's ship
will put to sea, and some folks miss it.
She pities him. Besides, he's too drunk to do anything
but whisper in her hair.
---
Right now I am redrafting a poem about black holes (assignment: LINE BREAKS) and have yet to start on the assignment about toxic shock syndrome. :D the exciting news is that Dr. Goldstein, who teaches the class, asked if I would like to do independent study with him next year. He said he thought I was one of the best students in the class. I just about died. I really want to say yes, but it's totally irrelevant to my major. Can I justify this? Sigh.
Assignment: Write a poem entitled The ____ of ____. Use concrete images.
The bitterness stone
falls into your pocket.
You aren’t expecting it.
Your heart closes down--but not quickly:
first you have a going-out-of-business sale
like the bankrupt Hallmark in York.
Your neighbours enter curiously--they’ve never shopped here before.
Like unruly children, they want to touch.
They buy your secrets for half price.
Finally the shelves are empty
but the bitterness stone
is heavy in your pocket.
You read Zane Grey to pass the time. You cook dinner but
on bad days it’s takeout reheated in the microwave.
Church starts to feel like a movie you paid too much to see.
God is a pretty bad director.
Still, when your mother calls
you say you’re fine;
you don’t want
to worry her.
One day the stone gets so heavy it pulls you down
into the earth.
But you always expected that.
Your mouth is full of dirt.
It tastes bitter.
---
Assignment: Write a bad poem.
i'm thinking
this cup is a metaphor for humanity
white and plastic
and cheap
and i'm thinking the only way
to fix the situation
is to embrace, to clasp, the
ceramic coffee mug of love
in our hot little collective hands
and for God's sake
to overthrow Starbucks
because that goddamn barrista gave me a Canadian nickel in my change again that shit is not real money this is AMERICA people
---
Assignment: Write a poem including the words 'lieutenant, army, shamrock, drinking, and west'. Must be no more than twelve lines.
One night while we were drinking
the lieutenant started asking
about the shamrock-shaped scar
on my thigh
and I made up fine stories
of West Berlin and Poland
and he got drunk and forgot it
and I
stayed looking at the stars fall
over our restless army
and wondered whether you at least
remembered why.
---
Assignment: Write a poem including the words 'cups, grey, life, ship, and kitchen'. Must be no more than twelve lines.
When he's in his cups he pulls her into his lap
and Anna gathers her skirts,
worn grey from her days in the kitchen,
to let him wrap his arms
around her waist.
"Life's grown tired," he says. She
murmurs sympathy.
Mama always said someday your soul's ship
will put to sea, and some folks miss it.
She pities him. Besides, he's too drunk to do anything
but whisper in her hair.
---
Right now I am redrafting a poem about black holes (assignment: LINE BREAKS) and have yet to start on the assignment about toxic shock syndrome. :D the exciting news is that Dr. Goldstein, who teaches the class, asked if I would like to do independent study with him next year. He said he thought I was one of the best students in the class. I just about died. I really want to say yes, but it's totally irrelevant to my major. Can I justify this? Sigh.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-17 10:38 am (UTC)The "bad poem" made me laugh out loud, and the other ones are really really good, especially the first one.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-17 04:59 pm (UTC)The bad poem was because he was like "look, you can't write a poem about something that's too mundane--like my Styrofoam cup, for example". Also, the first one was an actual turn-this-in assignment, the other three were in-class exercises.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-17 02:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-17 04:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-17 03:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-17 04:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-17 07:47 pm (UTC)And yes you can totally justify that! This is is a liberal arts school and education and the whole point of the graduation requirements is to turn out well-rounded individuals. Ignore the fact that you are already a well-rounded individual. This has relevance to your major, too -- what's the song of Solomon if not the most awesomest love poem evar?
For heaven's sake, girl, do it! He's right, you're an amazing poet, and you should do this.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-17 10:34 pm (UTC)Lol Song of Solomon justification lol. Anyway, thank you for making me feel like this is a legit choice to make. I really do want to do it.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-18 01:59 am (UTC)i think that if it would make you happy, you should do it. that is a good justification, whether or not it is relevant to your major.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-18 03:09 am (UTC)I've pretty much caved, I think.