#3 (Musical Rhyme and Poetic Connections)

So, I was listening to the latest hit on the radio featuring Justin Timberlake, and instead of mindlessly appreciating the beat throughout, I found myself commenting on the lyricism. This is not an atypical action for me, since I am such a music lover and I listen to way too many songs each day. However, this particular instance amused me greatly. I found myself judging the "goodness" of the respective rhymes in the song. Some slant rhymes surprised me, and I gave them a respectable nod, but others simply let me down because of their predictability. I have found myself doing this with poems too, especially in my own since I don't fancy myself to be that good at rhyme yet. I have realized that learning to obtain a good ear is critical to being able to write excellent poetry. This pertains whether or not the poem rhymes, because it needs to have a good sound overall in order to be widely accepted. Poetry has developed from being spoken and sung aloud. I think a very large part of me is attracted to poetry because of this intense musical connection. If I can learn to harness the sounds and arrange them beautifully, could I not master the true meaning of poetry?

#2 (Thoughts from a Reading...)

I attended a lovely fiction reading tonight. I went with no knowledge of the author or her works, and honestly wasn't even sure I would remember her name once I got there. I dragged a friend along, telling him how great the reading was sure to be, even though I really hadn't a clue. Maybe I brought him along because I wanted company while walking in the dark, but I think I had a feeling that what I told him would be true. After a personal introduction by a past professor of mine, she read a lovely story. I enjoyed the rich details throughout, and kept trying to commit them to memory to savor them later, but I failed at that valiant endeavor. Everyone clapped when it was over, maybe I clapped a little longer than most. Then, the questions began. Not being interested in writing fiction, and also loving my position as observer at the time, I remained silent. Then, she began speaking on the very reason why I had come to hear her that night. She spoke on endurance. My poetry was rejected twice in the previous week, and I was wondering if all of my efforts had been fruitless. I was wondering if I was any good at what I wanted to do. It was a very good thing that I went to the reading, not because she had a magical remedy for the sting of rejection, but because I learned a very important lesson. She reminded me that passion supercedes all else. This may seem like an extremely encompassing statement solely designed to give comfort to those who lack talent, but I disagree. Instead, passion inspires training, and training creates amazing results. I'm still learning to crawl in terms of my poetry training. Maybe I'm even still learning just to pull myself up and sway for a moment. However, as the writer reminded me, if you have passion for something, you'll keep working at it, and won't let anyone tell you that you can't do something. Rejection happens because there are too many applicants, but hopefully as I learn to walk my rejection will be less. All I know is that my passion for poetry is still strong, and that is why I will always continue to write.

#1 (Found From Facebook)

I brought in a conversation between myself and two of my friends from facebook for this class exercise. I should preface the original conversation by saying that my friends and I have a very interesting sense of humor and are quite nerdy. So, this started out as one friend wishing me happy birthday and became a recount of an entire adventure.

The Original Conversation:

Greg:
Do you remember the last time we celebrated your "20th" birthday, back in 1927 and Jillian was kidnapped by that mad scientist and you ended up having to crash land his zeppelin while I defused his "Energy Bomb"? Well, here's hoping this birthday is at least as eventful as that one. Happy birthday from your most delusional friend!

Me:
Haha I do remember this. I'm reminded every time I look into the portrait of us and see my own reflection penetrating my current persona! Jill still owes us for getting her out of that scrape!!! Unfortunately, my current existence requires that I work and attend classes today, but I shall still make my own adventure!!!

Greg:
I would expect nothing less, I mean not just anyone can crash land a zeppelin, I didn't even know it was possible....

Jill:
I owe you two NOTHING! I single handedly picked the lock on that stupid box Greg fell into when we were sprinting from the gendarme in Marseilles. I'm still dealing with the carpel tunnel consequences from that. Also, don't EVEN make me rehash Kristen's little incident in Rome that took me two months to smooth back over. Owe you. HA!

Greg:
I was, sort of, you know, hoping you had forgotten that whole box thing. Now Rome on the other hand, Jillian dearest, you just have to let some things go, it's not like we were ever going back to the Vatican through the proper entrance anyway....

Jill:
SHE BLEW... A HOLE... IN THE WALL!! Ancient paintings, precious vases... you can't replace those things! A little tact is all I'm asking for here.

Greg:
She had the best intentions, really, how else could we take out a fully manifested 9th Circle Pit Fiend? I agree she was youthfully overeager in her approach, but she has certainly calmed down since then. Remember Kathmandu, she only used five sticks of dynamite then....

Me:
It's not my fault that the chemical wasn't clearly labeled "combustible"! What do you expect me to do, Jill, actually read before I throw items at walls? The Vatican has way more money anyways... They can so replace it! I'll color some paint on a classic vase and no one else will know cept us and that annoying Holmes!

Greg:
Holmes found it quite the laugh, actually. He's just sore we beat him to it. Oh the looks on the Cardinal's faces when I gave them the itemized bill....

Jill: I couldn't believe that he actually TOOK the bill!

Greg: Well, really, what choice he have. And I don't remember you complaining about finally being able to afford our own airship....


Found Poem from class:

Found Adventures

I once crash landed a zepplin,
at least my most delusional friend convinced me so.
Kathmandu, Marseilles, the Vatican, Rome
"Dearest, you just have to let some things go,"
[My own reflection penetrates my current persona]
I'm still dealing with the carpal tunnel consequence
from single handedly picking the lock on that stupid box.
Ancient paintings, precious vases,
the chemical wasn't clearly labeled combustible!
Should I actually read before I throw items at walls?
Oh, the looks on the Cardinal's faces
when I gave them the itemized bill.
Finally able to afford our own airship,
getting her out of that scrape.
The last time we celebrated your "20th" birthday in 1927,
well, here's hoping this birthday is as eventful as that one!