Nez bouché encore? damnit.

Trouble Saying It
mitzfah

Ten, Tin, Tan, too many
A, E, I, vowel mix
Ups and downs for us.
Understand?

You talk funny.
What am I holdin?
A pen is not a pin
And eight year old honesty
Does wonders for self confidence.

Frankly, voice work
For five hours
Crumbles into
Six-sided stars.

So, the oral
Persecution of
A shiksa chasing
Boy becomes a
Throw-away Baselitz

~ tim

So, It's taken me forever--apparently--to put this next one up. I was particularly attentive to the fact of how the rhythm and meter of this one felt/looked. I think it was an appropriate topic to discuss when considering such things. Luckily I'm in a poetry workshop group where I get such good commentary like "I like this one. It doesn't rhyme but that's ok it doesn't need it." Did I mention that that was the only commentary. Haha, it's cool... I'm not trying to badger anyone. Truthfully, I just want someone to tell me like it is--skilled at poetry or not. I just would like some criticism sometimes. Just something to consider about the poetry really. Anyways.

I guess I should start putting more into these too--more time that is.
By the way, the poem I turned in this week was a sad excuse for a poem. There were guidelines (much like the poem above which was supposed to focus on the "music of the line" i.e. meter, line breaks, rhyme [if you want it], rhythm, etc) for it, repetition of a word to be exact, but I'm quite sure I didn't do exactly what she wanted or was talking about rather. I feel like repetition is not exactly a strong part of my poetry... who knows. I'm interested in what the professor will say about it (her criticism is usually the most informative seeing as she actually writes it down and is in depth with it).

Pants came in : )
History of the English Language is an interesting class. I'm enjoying it. I think it is informing a lot of my writing now--I'm paying a lot of attention to the words and how they work and what they mean in the construction of the line or sentence. Lovely. Of course, I would be delving deeper into a linguistic aspect of literature and like it.

Now, for comic relief. An exercise someone did last semester in which we were supposed to write "terrible" poems like a high school kid would write. This is mine.

To once belong
With Heaven's fair
I would, as the wind,
Caress her sweet hair.

Forever swooing there,
The instant before the
Kiss. Something I would
Probably miss, I melt--

December--wanton of Spring's care.
I die.

~ me hahahahaha great.

until the next again.