Friday's Column

This column appeared on Friday:

http://www.dailybarometer.com/going-back-to-library-books-1.2706238#.Tsl3S2BqtW4

Columns!

I've recently been added to the Daily Barometer's staff (the OSU daily student newspaper) as a columnist. I will be posting links to my articles here from the Barometer's website after they've appeared in print:

Tuesday, November 15

http://www.dailybarometer.com/much-better-manners-found-on-campus-1.2699381#.TsRyJ2BqtW4

Monday, November 7

http://www.dailybarometer.com/no-longer-tolerating-the-fashions-of-oppression-1.2686120#.TsRztGBqtW5

"Brutal" Class Rules Poem

So this poem was created using a set of rules that I frankly consider brutal, and so did our professor. We weren't very nice to each other.

Here's the list of rules, and my poem follows all of them, though it doesn't do very much else. Therefore, you will shortly see a new version of this poem:

1. 10 syllable lines

2. must include the name of your first pet

3. tell a joke

4. a direct contrast

5. use at least one color

6. limit of five adjectives

7. must have a rhyme pattern

8. must use the word defenestrate

9. must include at least one human member of your family

10. needs a good title

11. must use the word soul in a non-cliche way

12. use dialogue

13. use alliteration

14. include a precious metal/gem

15. must include a quote from Abraham Lincoln

16. have a reference to a favorite trip

17. the first word in the poem must start with the first letter of your name

18. include an allusion to your favorite book

19. must mention a plant or a vegetable

Beauty and the Beast

Amant, j'ai vu l'écart entre la belle

et la bête. Defenestrate all your shells.

Let me see your souls- no your soles- your feet

Are my windows to walking on the street.

Walking down the street in Mexico, black

Sunglasses, tendrils of hair whipping back

And forth. Shall I buy silver earrings with

Opals and amethyst? Why yes, forthwith.

Papa always taking pictures of us

But now we’re back home with a lot less fuss.

Sadie’s long gone, a savage bull that could

Not bear the yoke, when she bit they would

Make sure she choked. Character is like a

Tree, reputation like a shadow grey.

Phew. Aren't you glad you're done reading that?

The next poem was a result of an in class writing session where we were shown different pictures, each picture separated by a stanza:

You Walk Through It

I tried not to look at it,

But I couldn’t help myself-

The sun was so bright

It stained my eyes

Green and purple

Like a giant bruise.

There was a slight,

Misty fog so light

As to be almost

Inconsequential.

The sun shot rays

Of gold and silver,

Diffusing all the other

Colors. The cattails

Glowed as if they were

On fire, or had been

Linked to an electrical

Line. The sun’s sticky

Fingers grabbed everything

They could find.

I had forgotten

What a sight they were:

“Moo” cows on a green

Hill, basking in the sun

Like snakes who needed

To increase their

Body temperature.

If they could yawn,

They would yawn.

One of their ears

Will twitch as they

Survey the land,

Not quite ready for

A nap.

They fly by when

You pass them in

A car, but if you

Go running with your Dad,

And you call to them,

You can make the oafs

Get up and chase you.

All this was a week

After I saw the

Hazy motion of the

Smoke fill the yard.

Apparently, it was a

Burn day. I felt bad

For the cats-

Today the weren’t

Quite the masters

Of the universe.

They weren’t allowed

To play in the piles

Of broken limbs

And thousands of

Needles and pinecones-

The result of hours

Of labor. Daddy

Picks them up and

They nuzzle his goatee

And groom him.

Then they wiggle

Loose and they’re off

To get that frog.

Mom will be heartbroken.

You can smell the wood

Burn, its flesh blackening

At the edges and then

Reaching the core,

Until there’s nothing

Left but a few ashes.

When I think of it

Now, what I remember

Is the cobalt sky

Settling on top

Of the cherry filling.

The landscape silhouetted

Like the little shapes

Of dogs and horses

My grandmother

Used to cut out for me.

The world turns dark,

Color is slipping away,

Sinking into the earth,

Which will spit it

Back out in the morning.

Everyone notices

When the moon is full

And close, but tonight

It’s far away.

Once I saw my brother

Fly off his bike

During a race,

Crashing down

On top of it.

The day was just

Beginning to cool

And darken-

A beautiful night.

And we were off

To the emergency room.

Nothing was broken-

Just a bruised back

And some bruised pride.

Wind knocked out

And blown back in.

He looked so good

Up there by the

Starting gate, wearing

All his mandatory gear,

And smiling like

He didn’t know how

To stop.

And in a dream

Once I saw death

Stare me in the face,

Looking similar to

A Georgia O’Keefe

Painting of a cow skull.

Death was bony, with

Hot, cracked, dry skin.

We were in the middle

Of nowhere,

In the middle of nothing.

And so I shook

His hand, and he

Dissolved and left me

Alone in the desert.

I sat down and cried,

And the tear soaked

Into the dirt, and

The dream changed.

And Death was there

Again, so I gave him

A hug- he thought I

Was crazy.

Now I’m at the beach,

Running down the hot

Sand barefoot, trying not

To burn the soles of

My feet, or to step on

Anything I would rather

Not step on. A seagull

Was having a confrontation

With a crab at the water’s

Edge. The crab seemed

Unhappy, so I ran

Listening to my toes slap

The wet sand, waving

My arms, and the bird

Flew off and settled

Down the beach.

The crab didn’t appreciate

Me fighting his battles,

He scuttled off without

Saying thank you.

They say you shouldn’t

Go walking by yourself

In the city, and you

Definitely shouldn’t

Go in those dark

Tunnels by yourself.

Sure, you can see

All the way through

To the end, and you’re

Carrying pepper spray,

But you can never

Be too careful for

Your mother.

It’s a good thing

She doesn’t know

You walk through it

Every night.

Tudor Windows

This poem assignment was all about structure. Basically our teacher provided us a structure that looked like this:

If May is like (blank)

Then November is like (blank)

As now when I look out the window I see (description)

Yesterday the best thing happened (blank)

The worst thing my (father/mother) ever said to me was: (blank)

Suddenly outside the window: (metaphor)

Statement about love.

Anyway, it's November (.....)

Also, each line had to be twelve syllables.

So here's what I came up with:

Tudor Windows

If May is a stained glass window, then November

Is like the small leaded panes in a Tudor house.

As now, when I look out the window I see leaves

Strewn upon the ground, edged with frost that clearly defines

Each leaf from its brother and cousin. They are plastered

To the ground partly from the rain the night before,

And partly from the morning dew. There is a fog

Obscuring the air, I can only see enough

Of the tree to watch each individual leaf

Fall to the ground to join the carpet already

Laid out. Yesterday the best thing happened, I told

Paul I love him by tricking him into saying

It first. And then he kissed me. The worst thing Daddy

Ever said to me was that I was ungrateful.

Suddenly outside the window, the leaves are stirring,

It’s as if I’m watching the woman lazily

Drag her ladle through the pot at the soup kitchen,

I feel my stomach rumble. I’m hungry for warmth.

Love is baking challah, incorporating all

The ingredients, waiting for the dough to rise,

Braiding it together, being gentle- careful

Not to stretch it out of shape, brushing it with egg

Wash to make it shine, then baked until the color

Is mahogany. Anyway, it’s November,

And the diamond shaped glass is blurred and romantic.

Unassigned Poetry

Our assignment was to write poetry that wasn't assigned (I shouldn't say it was an assignment, it was more of a suggestion...), so here are three that I composed this week.

Halloween

I only got to say it three times tonight.

I’ve been waiting all year

I bought the candy a couple weeks ahead

Of when I really needed to,

Sifting through the bulk candy at WinCo

Trying to decide if I’d rather give out

Tiny jawbreakers or Double Bubble bubble gum,

Then deciding I’ll add both

To the large bag. It was already straining

With the effort of creating my imagined scene

Of tiny children coming to the door

And chiming trick or treat in their tinny,

But altogether not unpleasant voices.

Maybe I’d even guess what they were supposed to be:

Ballerinas, Spiderman, Princesses, Serial killers…

I even dressed up myself- teasing my hair, donning

Pearls, wearing heels, and a dress, and an apron-

A 50’s housewife complete with a sparkly glass ring.

But for all my work, I got six.

One devil, two ninjas, one Batman,

One ghoul-ish looking thing, and one-

I don’t know- was he Iron Man?

And so I gave them a huge handful each,

And they all said thank you,

And I said Happy Halloween!

And they trotted down my stairs

To the next apartment building

With the orange trick or treat label that means

We’ve got candy inside.

And now it’s 10:43,

My makeup is smudged,

And the last person to knock on the door

Will be my boyfriend.

And I know he’ll want candy.

It’s Inevitable

Yes, it’s like looking through glass

At an aquarium. On the other side

Is a scene unfolding- something is about to get eaten-

But try as you might, you can’t save

That poor little fish.

You’re sitting down at the movie theater,

Restraining yourself from throwing popcorn

At the screen. You know that it will end

Badly if she goes for that guy. You tell her

Not to do it. But, of course, she does

It anyway. You can’t save her from herself.

You could hurdle things at a brick wall,

But that won’t stop it from being a brick wall.

Throw an iron through it.

Now it’s a broken brick wall.

Now you have to fix it.

Greek Food

The garlic is so thick in my mouth,

If I breathed on a vampire, it would pray

For its immortal soul. Candles flicker,

The air is heavy with conversation

That rumbles like a volcano building

To eruption. The paper tablecloth

Smell like wax. The light is just bright enough

To barely see. Paul dips a spoon in the hummus.

Mom copies him. I inhale. There’s that

Garlic again. Silverware is clattering

In the kitchen. So I distinct, I can almost tell

The difference between the utensils.

I can hear enough of the music to hear

It’s a guitar. How wonderful to be on a double date

With my parents. Sneaky fingers keep

Finding their way back to the plate.