She stalks and prowls deep
In the heart of the forest
A vile, seducing power
Leaking out her golden bulbs
In the heart of the forest
She treads lightly, her evil
Leaking out her golden bulbs
Calling our attention
She treads lightly, her evil-
Nothing but gorgeous nature
Calling our attention,
And she's licking her lips in response
Nothing but gorgeous nature
In the throbbing heart of the forest
And she's licking her lips in response
A vile, seducing power
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Critical Response #1
Christina Ledesma
Advanced Poetry Writing
Professor Barnstone
Critical Response
February 19, 2009
Critical Response to Casualties by Alex Johnson
I really enjoyed the poem “Casualties” by Alex Johnson; he had great descriptive images throughout his poem. My favorite lines are the first two lines “A perfect ripple of flesh in the night that shakes off insecurity / Lip, enamel and breath encircle a tongue and speak of perfect victims.” These two lines paint a vision of two lovers together in the night. His word choice is very sensual and in the second line I can vision the characteristics of a woman. I think Alex did a good job following the structure of a Ghazal poem. He repeats the word perfect in the first line of every stanza and also includes his name in the last line of the poem. Some of the lines I think Alex should work on would be line 6, 8, and 10. I think he could describe these lines in a better way where his reader can actually visualize what he is trying to say. I also think he should choose another verb to describe the “immaculate coat” in stanza three. Overall, I think Alex’s poem is very sensual and sexual and appeals to his reader through his descriptive language. I also like how he plays with word “victimitude” in the last stanza, which is not a word but becomes a word in his poem. Like many other poets Alex is creating a word that compliments his poem and appeals to his reader.
Advanced Poetry Writing
Professor Barnstone
Critical Response
February 19, 2009
Critical Response to Casualties by Alex Johnson
I really enjoyed the poem “Casualties” by Alex Johnson; he had great descriptive images throughout his poem. My favorite lines are the first two lines “A perfect ripple of flesh in the night that shakes off insecurity / Lip, enamel and breath encircle a tongue and speak of perfect victims.” These two lines paint a vision of two lovers together in the night. His word choice is very sensual and in the second line I can vision the characteristics of a woman. I think Alex did a good job following the structure of a Ghazal poem. He repeats the word perfect in the first line of every stanza and also includes his name in the last line of the poem. Some of the lines I think Alex should work on would be line 6, 8, and 10. I think he could describe these lines in a better way where his reader can actually visualize what he is trying to say. I also think he should choose another verb to describe the “immaculate coat” in stanza three. Overall, I think Alex’s poem is very sensual and sexual and appeals to his reader through his descriptive language. I also like how he plays with word “victimitude” in the last stanza, which is not a word but becomes a word in his poem. Like many other poets Alex is creating a word that compliments his poem and appeals to his reader.
Ned Ludd-Celina
“Enough!” Ludd’s act organically
stewed engineers in shame.
Humanity mechanically
gasped with the stocking frame.
stewed engineers in shame.
Humanity mechanically
gasped with the stocking frame.
Amnesiac Phrenology
Kinetic energy and molten sensations,
Weapons-grade amnesia and plate tectonics of the skull –
Its boiling rock is diverging and converging and
Black sounds in the temporal hemisphere are erupting in arc volcanics.
Weapons-grade amnesia and plate tectonics of the skull
Send aftershocks that shake transform boundaries in the lips and eyes.
The black sounds in the temporal hemisphere are erupting in arc volcanics
As pooled ether cools into obsidian thoughts.
Aftershocks shake transform boundaries in the lips and eyes,
Creating ridge-lines and hot, infertile valleys of resent while
Pooled ether cools into obsidian thoughts
And rememberances of old scents and honeyed colors.
Ridge-lines and hot, infertile valleys of resent
Surround rigid pools of dewed memory
And rememberances of old scents, of old honeyed colors
Of aprons and the click of heels, of parasols and pinstripes.
Rigid pools of dewed memory –
Of laughter and mustard flowers, the white
Of aprons and the click of heels, of parasols and pinstripes –
Bubble and evaporate, soon becoming soothing cumulonimbus reminiscence.
Heavy with laughter and mustard flowers, the white
Clouds darken and release memory on the surface;
It evaporates on contact and returns to the sky, soon
The whole skull will be covered in soothing cumulonimbus reminiscence.
The clouds darken and release memory on the surface,
Where boiling rock is converging and diverging.
Soon the whole skull will be covered in cumulonimbus reminiscence
Maintained by kinetic energy and molten sensations.
Weapons-grade amnesia and plate tectonics of the skull –
Its boiling rock is diverging and converging and
Black sounds in the temporal hemisphere are erupting in arc volcanics.
Weapons-grade amnesia and plate tectonics of the skull
Send aftershocks that shake transform boundaries in the lips and eyes.
The black sounds in the temporal hemisphere are erupting in arc volcanics
As pooled ether cools into obsidian thoughts.
Aftershocks shake transform boundaries in the lips and eyes,
Creating ridge-lines and hot, infertile valleys of resent while
Pooled ether cools into obsidian thoughts
And rememberances of old scents and honeyed colors.
Ridge-lines and hot, infertile valleys of resent
Surround rigid pools of dewed memory
And rememberances of old scents, of old honeyed colors
Of aprons and the click of heels, of parasols and pinstripes.
Rigid pools of dewed memory –
Of laughter and mustard flowers, the white
Of aprons and the click of heels, of parasols and pinstripes –
Bubble and evaporate, soon becoming soothing cumulonimbus reminiscence.
Heavy with laughter and mustard flowers, the white
Clouds darken and release memory on the surface;
It evaporates on contact and returns to the sky, soon
The whole skull will be covered in soothing cumulonimbus reminiscence.
The clouds darken and release memory on the surface,
Where boiling rock is converging and diverging.
Soon the whole skull will be covered in cumulonimbus reminiscence
Maintained by kinetic energy and molten sensations.
Sour Grapes
Rimbaud, a country child not fit
for vineyards, rolling hills.
But city life bore no fruit and
destroyed his strength of will.
News-Celina
They danced and shot off fireworks
Feasted in their homes
A celebration of mourning, not a celebration
It’s a conscious awakening of an entire people
Feasted in their homes
Led away, wrists bound by wires
It’s a conscious awakening of an entire people
You don’t know what’s in our hearts
Led away, wrists bound by wires
Sprawling complex of golden-eaved temples
You don’t know what’s in our hearts
A boy who had a lovely smile
Sprawling complex of golden-eaved temples
Millions of trees harvested
A boy who had a lovely smile
Large manufacturers rely on them
Millions of trees harvested
The two countries are still interwined
Large manufacturers rely on them
Bridge a chasm in perception
The two countries are still interwined
Your fingers curl over just where they should
Bridge a chasm in perception
The billions of dollars that will flow
Your fingers curl over just where they should
A celebration of mourning, not a celebration
The billions of dollars that will flow
They danced and shot off fireworks
Feasted in their homes
A celebration of mourning, not a celebration
It’s a conscious awakening of an entire people
Feasted in their homes
Led away, wrists bound by wires
It’s a conscious awakening of an entire people
You don’t know what’s in our hearts
Led away, wrists bound by wires
Sprawling complex of golden-eaved temples
You don’t know what’s in our hearts
A boy who had a lovely smile
Sprawling complex of golden-eaved temples
Millions of trees harvested
A boy who had a lovely smile
Large manufacturers rely on them
Millions of trees harvested
The two countries are still interwined
Large manufacturers rely on them
Bridge a chasm in perception
The two countries are still interwined
Your fingers curl over just where they should
Bridge a chasm in perception
The billions of dollars that will flow
Your fingers curl over just where they should
A celebration of mourning, not a celebration
The billions of dollars that will flow
They danced and shot off fireworks
Where I'm Writing From; For Raymond Carver
These days your name is a
phrase that tears on my ears,
and writing is like catching my foot on a nail
or stepping in broken glass someone left behind.
A phrase that tears on my ears, that
echoes, pierces the fabric of memory,
like stepping in broken glass that someone left behind;
it reminds me of objections left unvoiced.
Pierce the fabric of memory and
scream yourself to sleep without sound, without echoes.
Spring reminds me of objections left unvoiced;
of reluctant copulations and uncomfortable sweat.
Scream yourself to sleep without sound
while frontier battles rage in your breast.
Remembering the reluctant copulations and uncomfortable sweat,
my tongue trembles on the seal of the envelope I don’t know that I’ll send.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)