Post Card Sketch Page

                                                           Original

A woman awaits with a bouquet of flowers in her hand for her youngest son to arrive home from the Cold War. Anxious to see her baby she waits outside a mile down the road to greet him. Her first born had also joined the army and returned home a few days ago. Paul her oldest son dressed in his army attire had followed his mother a mile down the street. Paul stood in front of a tree rifle in hand to see first glimpse of his other half.

                                                           Revision

As I stand outside with your brother to see you my love the winter breeze pierces through my wool sweater. How I dream of having you home each night I went to bed. The Cold War had torn this family apart but now it has given you back to me. With a bouquet full of your favorite flowers I express my joy in having our family reunited. Here in the snow we will stand until I have you embraced in these cold hands.

Racculia & Salvatore Writer as a Reader Response

The excerpt from This Must Be The Place by novelist Kate Racculia and the short story "Reduction" by Salem State alum Joseph Salvatore are both interesting to read.  Before I read Racculia’s excerpt I glanced over it. Visually the construction of her excerpt was very lengthy. I was expecting to read something that one would find on the back cover of a book. Once I began reading the structure became more than just lengthy. Racculia began her excerpt sixteen years before with the mention of a postcard and then transitioned into another part of her life “The Runaway”. Her work reminds me of an autobiography because it seems like she was recalling her life as a teenager. Maybe I felt this way after reading her work because it seems so realistic, a young girl running away from home to follow her dreams. I don’t know how many people do that now a days but running away to pursue one’s dream use to be done a lot in the past.  The structure also reminds me of a diary minus the date entries. It’s her overall approach to her novel that gives it this so called label.  

The short story "Reduction" by Salem State alum Joseph Salvatore has similar elements to novelist Racculia’s excerpt from This Must Be The Place. Both authors decide to begin their story at the age of eighteen which I found interesting.  I must say I enjoyed reading Salvatore’s short story more than I did Racculica’s. Vivid diction plays a major role in how he constructed his short story. Salvatore’s use of figurative language to construct his work took it to a deeper level. At first the message that I was getting from his reading was straight forward that this sixteen year old hated the way she looked because her boobs were an attention grabber and nothing else about her would captivate others. The message changed the more I read. There is more to what the eye meets literally. There were many reasons she gave for not wanting or wishing she never had breasts and in the end all those reasons made sense. His technique of using vivid figurative language brought his work to life. I was able to visualize most of the lines written which helped me understand the story better. Adopting Salvatore’s technique of using vivid language is something that I am familiar with because I use vivid language a lot. However, my writings are not as visual as his. I would like to use diction that makes my works come to life but, I don’t want it to seem as if I’m trying too hard to get that effect.

Why do both authors begin their story at the age of sixteen?

How did Salvatore come up with the idea for his short story to write about a woman who dislikes her breasts?

How and why was Racculia inspired to write this novel?

Just a Theme

School Yard bully
Cough up my money CHUMP!
I was this girl
With fists of fury as I tossed around and swirled.

I am the authority of these play grounds
No money=no monkey bar
Cross me and I'll strike you
Don't argue with the pain MASTER!

School Yard bully
Here I come DE-DUM, DE-DUM
No adults around
I need something for my fists to pound
I was this GIRL!

Revision

School Yard bulleeee Here I come DE-DUM, DE-DUM
No adults around
I need something for my fists to pound
I was this GIRL!

1 o'clock is recess time
All who seeks to play needs to pay
No money means no monkey bar
This is the fee so just pay up and run around like a bee

School Yard bulleeee
With fists of fury I tossed around and swirled.
I was this GIRL!

sketch pg A new kind of poetry!

Love hurts if you can feel the pain you feel?

Can you tell me if this feeling is fake?

Maybe then my heart won't crumble like cake!

Please can someone tell me what is the deal?

Soft heart like a tomato not like steel.

This feeling makes my body sore with aches.

Pain is too strong I can not concentrate.

Love me not, this feeling is so surreal.

Surprised touch makes mouth open like a door.

When will this blood pumper learn to defend?

Fight my battle help my vision to see!

Hurray battle won today I adore.

I guess my beating chest has learned to fend.

Just leave it up to silly me to flee!

A poem (Sketch Page)

Today a poem should be read while on a train

A poem should be painted on crystal glass

A poem should talk about past experiences the kind that makes one smile and occasionally cry

A poem should infiltrate all the minds of the teachers and turn them into zombie soldiers

Once read out loud a poem should make your ears ring with joy from hearing each line

A poem would have made me sad

A poem is the only antidote to boredom

Some people know how to dance, run, fight, and, be pleasant

A poem is a waste of time that you can't get back

Once upon a time

Poetry wasn't poetry it was just another way to keep track of one's feelings like the pages of a dairy

Sketch Page (Cabezón)

 6 Story word

I tried to incorporate Amy Beeder's use of descriptive words in her poem Cabezón to reshape my six story word piece of fiction I began in class. Just as Beeder describes her surroundings I too try to master this style.

 Why do I have to drive on this crowded highway to commute a long way on a rainy day? I don't even like any of these professors. Stuck on the highway as the huge pellets of rain pound on my rusted yellow Toyota two door car stinks like the alley I had to park my car in to make it to class on time. The sun just came up and I can't wait for it to go down. Stuck in traffic on the way home is what I will be. A rainy day just makes my life so much worse. Sometimes I feel curse like the witches who lived in Salem. I wish I could like these classes but I just don't! First day of class the professors always ask why did you pick this class? My mind wonders and I think about picking roses with the thorns still attached trying not to prick my fingers. This careful picking process is the same procedure I used  to pick classes. Obviously I didn't avoid all the thorns when picking classes and my hands red as dirt in Mexico are left bleeding. I chose the worse god damn classes!

Writer's Post "We Real Cool"

We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks is a nice poem to read and listen to.  The way in which Gwendolyn constructed her poem is something that I too would like to try and incorporate into my own work. I have a passion to write poems and adopting this structure or one similar to this poem may shine some light on my own works.  There are eight lines in her poem several of which all end in “we”. However, short her poem maybe its use of diction allowed me to recall the scene in which she was inspired by when she wrote this piece. I was able to see seven people playing pool after school in the month of June singing and or listening to Jazz and having lots of fun who were on the path of death.  This poem was straight forward as far as the message it wanted readers to get after reading it. The audio component also shed some light on Gwendolyn’s technique of how she constructed her poem.  Listening to Gwendolyn’s explanations of how and why she was inspired to write this poem took the poem on a deeper level. 

Listening to her read the poem after I read it was interesting because it was like I was listening to a new poem. She has such a distinguished voice. Her tone reminds me of a deep down south accent or of someone who lives in Louisiana. The way Gwendolyn said the words in her poem aided the construction.  As she said each word it came to life and made the poem more appealing. For example, when I was reading her poem I came across the word June. This word doesn’t mean anything to me more than a month. However, to Gwendolyn June was more than just a month it was a “nice, gentle, non- controversial, fragrant, enjoyable, pleasant month that everybody loves.”  I think I’m going to try and use words that have a lot of meaning to me that wouldn’t necessarily mean much to others.  This element might make my work more enjoyable to read and help with my writers block which I get sometimes.

Philosophy of Love

  I am a young radiant girl that has never had the pieces of her heart shredded like the cheese one put's on their taco. Look into my hazel eyes and there lays my passion. I have a golden retriever and he enjoys to eat and play. I find joy in eating pizza, and playing soccer.  My heart pounds as I run up and down the soccer field. I am addicted to this sport like a junkie. When I bite into my sizzling hot pepperoni pizza it makes my taste buds sing. I am a young girl of nine with an elementary school education confused about matters of the heart. I wonder if the joy's I experience and the heart pounds I feel deep within my chest are whole and pure rather, than broken and corrupted.

The Two Monkeys Szymborska ( Writer's Post)

The Two Monkeys Szymborska is a very interesting piece of writing to read. I re-read The Two Monkeys Szymborska numerous times trying to see if there were hidden meanings behind the author’s choice of words.  I also thought about the structure of the poem.  What was the message that this piece of writing was trying to convey? Anyways re-reading the poem seemed to help because I feel as if the poem is about more than just a graduation exam. On the surface The Two Monkeys Szymborska is about someone day dreaming about taking an exam. However on a deeper level the poem is about someone envisioning there life after they take the exam. So this person has envisioned the success of passing the exam.  The structure of the poem was okay. It wasn’t too short or too long although I wanted the poem to continue so I could read more. It was a great read.  The poem didn’t stop abruptly but it was somewhat of a tease. I got a taste of what the author was envisioning and didn’t get to see or know what the final out was.  

After I read the poem I strolled down to the bottom of the page and saw a painting illustrating the writer’s thoughts. It wasn’t quite what I imagined. I imagined two monkeys chained together high up in a tree sitting on a branch with the cloudy blue sky above.  Instead the picture on the canvas showed two monkeys chained together sitting between an arc that appears to be a window sill with what appears to be the scenery of the beach in the background.  This stanza stood out to me “the other seems to be dozing--, and when silence follows a question, he prompts me, with a soft jingling of the chain.” I wonder if the writer is referring to himself as the other who is dozing off. The next line the silence that follows the question makes me envision the writer being inside a class room while this day dreaming is occurring.  He prompts me, with a soft jingle of a chain mhmm…could he be a professor or a teacher trying to get the attention of this day dreaming student or does he refer to another class mate or person?

Rorschach Poem

                   "V"

2 Finger make the letter "V"

What if two fingers could make a "B" ?

That's something I would love to "C"

2 Fingers make the letter "V"

Two vertical lines intersect at an origin

I wonder if the name Jen 

Could ever have the letter "V"

Naw, this could never "B"

2 Fingers make the letter "V"

V-for vital,visiting,vomit

I'm stuck on this shyt like it's CHRONIC!

You have NO Idea! (Sketch Post)

I like the poem to take the shape of past and then the (here and now) present. The rhyming pattern in my opinion is working great as I transition from line to line. However, I'm not sure the use of metaphors will be understood or appreciated by those who read my poem.

You have NO idea!

Lovely as they may

It all vanishes away

Don't run away

Stay here and Play

No you say

For the person you once were

Is no longer here

You have changed

So I must rearrange

This so called thing

I looked upon as life

Try not to choke

On love that is now covered in smoke

Puff, Puff, Puff

I have inhaled enough

No love, No trust

So why would I sit around?

Just waiting to die

A broken heart

Shattered by cupids arrow

Fly away my pain

take the path of the Sparrow however, far and narrow!

Metaphors...On a Deeper Level

I was looking forward to this week’s assigned reading on CANVAS because I am a huge poetry fan. I logged onto CANVAS eager to read some poetry and I came across one particular poem that I knew I was going to blog about. Before I jump right in and share my response to this amazing piece of writing I must say all the other poems were great as well. Sylvia Plath’s poem “Metaphors” was a great read. The way how Plath constructed “Metaphors” gave rise to its creative elements.  Each line flowing from one to the next no matter the absence of rhyming enhanced her poem‘s construction.  Plath’s strategy to write “Metaphors” in the format of a riddle is one creative element that made this piece so intriguing. After reading this riddle the first time I was left thinking huh? Asking myself what this non-rhyming poem was about. I found myself thinking about “metaphors” even when reading other works listed under Pandora’s Box.  I tried not to focus on the meaning of the poem but that proved to be a very difficult task. How was I supposed to truly appreciate her creative elements and figure out what this piece of writing has to say about my own writing if I did not understand it? 

The title gave me a few hints as to what the poem was referring to metaphors, but about what? I realized what the poem is about both on the surface and on a deeper level. On the surface the poem is about metaphors and the way in which she uses them in a riddle. On a deeper level the poem is about the stages of pregnancy or just pregnancy itself.  The fact that I choose this poem out of all the other pieces of writings listed under Pandora’s Box says plenty about my writing style.  Once again it is clear that I prefer to use figurative language such as simile’s or metaphors when expressing my views.

The Writers' Series

Heading to the Writers’ Series I was skeptical as to what I was in for.  I was unsure about what would be read and how I would feel listening to clusters of letters forming words that would illustrate the speakers work. Sitting there in my chair listening to each speaker take his/her turn at the podium while I jotted notes down endless concluded for a minute or two when the sixth speaker began to read. Gwendolyn Rosemond’s choice to read a gloomy (death) poem made the content of the poem more appealing. The poem stood in its own category giving the listener (myself) bits and pieces of essential information so I could attempt to put the pieces together to figure what was to come. Rosemond’s poem You only think you know me use of vivid language is one element that matters the most to me as a writer. Envisioning each line as Rosemond read her poem aloud taught me a key component about my own creative writing. I have come to realize that I too use vivid words when trying to illustrate my thoughts.  

For me vivid words bring my writings to life. It’s as if I have an alternate life when I write. I want to take my readers and listeners although I prefer not to read what I write in front of others on a journey. Journeys that will help individuals grasp the meaning of my written works on a deeper level. I don’t want my words to be looked upon as just words. Rather I aim for my diction to be viewed as something more meaningful something pleasing to the mind. Rosemond’s strategy of how she constructed her poem reminds me of a thriller film. As she read You only think you know me I was sitting somewhat on the edge of my seat wondering what the grandson and Husband (two of the main characters) would do next. The element of suspense may have been the intention of Rosemond and I must say I was drawn in by it.