Spring Break, WHOOO!

Yea, Spring Break full of nothing to do's and sit in the room's. Fun. Actually, I've been doing plenty to keep myself entertained--I suppose anyways.

I should be doing a lot more. Making use of potential. Oh well, there is a time for relaxing and when you're young you should take advantage.

So, I went home and had to go through a lot of stuff from when I was a child--like writing and home movies--because I'm given the task of a paper that displays the way things like moving from the North to the South has affected my speech. So I get to bring vhs tapes of myself when I was a kid to the library and watch them there since I am VCR-less. Good times. I really do like the class though--I am a linguistic nerd I guess. What's wrong with liking how language works or is constructed..etc.
Speaking of papers, the one I submitted should be complimented with two others to finish its series; but, I was advised by the chair of the English dept. that I should attempt to get it published. She specifically came up to me and said, "I think you're paper is publishable and I am willing to sign off on it for the advisor position on it." I was kind of taken by surprise. That kind of sounds awesome, and it would look awesome on a grad school application. It is good to know that at least I have a decent writing sample to use for grad school applications (well, the jury is still out on it to some degree, I gave it to Lucia because she wanted to read it and am going to find out what she says about it tomorrow probably--i.e. get the brutally honest truth = awesome ha).

need more monies (the correct plural--ox to oxen, box to....boxes. Reason, some archaic plurals remained prominent in Middle English in the South of England which carried through into Modern English).

I got bored and learned some pen spinning. I'm super fixated with my hands. I had a point where I would shuffle cards without thinking about it when I was sitting at my desk. When I walk I uncap and recap my pen constantly. Good stuff.

Don't you love when parents bitch constantly--parent I should say. Dad is pretty cool.

Shouldn't I be getting to the poem....that's what this thing is for.


Forgotten Subjects

Sitting, mirrored
At the base, ready
End in hand.

It curls away
From the foundation
But caresses point.

All a direct line
Age, lost for the
Steady toll.

Twice the action is
Equal. I bring them
Eyes fixated.

Pointed decision
For it too has two
Disticnt sides.

On your mind
Opposed to
In your brain.

It enters decided
End stopping the line
Of selfish thought.

~tim
Yea, I got bored with the typing thing, how about some Haiku though!

Pocketed hand,
Drinking unfinished coffee,
Jingling change.

Muffin tops and
High pitch sounds of silence
Cause stacked breathing.

When facing brown eyes
I'm singing 'Happy Birthday'
Loving and smiling. (wow, that one is old.)

All space to myself
And thinking too much
Buzzing from the table top
The void flies out at top speed. *(obviously not a haiku)

Taste it--Don't waste it!
Phrased impeccably well.
'Refined pleasure.'

Minutes follow
The Hour's constriction of
Time comprehension.

Unconnected youth
Lived 'slow and steady,' still.
Deserted--water.

Pulsating eyebrow.
Why knock at sleep when you want?
Fight of flight.

I, insert words here.
I, syllables to match rhythm.
I, nat'ral image. (meta-haiku ftw)

Shelves up there hold all
My books. Pages upon
Pages that hold me.

Awesome. Alright. Done.
love love love. You have to for something I guess.
tim

Il est nécessaire que j'écrive une autre blog (poure mettre les autres poèmes)

Oh yea, this thing. I guess I need to put more up.

Revelations

Knee caps act like Jesus
Shins and feet habituate
Atlantis becoming their
Reality. Imagination
Takes hold. Not like those
Exhilarating white-line hills
Mirror basins. Sunrise quick.
Lightning pulses take roads to
Different destinations
As it wraps, snuggle soft.

Pointer, ring, and pinky
Multiply, lengthn, disappear
And taste of hues.

Kaleidoscope tunnel vision
Wooden legs with zebra print
Moon becomes Mother's face.
Tree taunts Father's intuition.

Highway to hell with overtones
of Panama as you approach
The aggressor. Red flag hands.

.uoy truh ot tnaw t'nod I
Wind blows wind up punches
.suolucidir si sihT
Two-tone tie dyed hands, red-white

Second hand
in rhythm
with the first
minute for
another
long night trip.

Come back senses.
He stopped dead.
The water felt
good on his legs.
Infinity
To apathy.

And black sky,
Shore returns.

One night down the rabbit hole
Replaced heavy heartbeat hills.

~Tim

My forrays into what it was like for my dad quand il était adolescent (au moins que je pense qu'il était jeune adult). Fun stuff. I think tip-toeing around the point is a fine point of artistry--when it is needed. Really I think it's necessary to walk around understanding, just to the point where you can miss the point entirely or it be just out of reach (which I think is about all one can do with anything anyways). I wrote a decent poem on 'metaphor' even though most of my poems try to use allusion or figurative language in order to portray what I am saying. Oh well.

Oh, in some good news, I won the John E. McCluskey Scholarly Essay award from the English departmental awards--for my essay on Beckett's novel Molloy. Nice! 150 dollars of nice! Oh, and I was also named the 'Outstanding French Student' recently which is cool because it looks good on a CV and I get a free book (haha)--no really, it's going to be a book on criticism by Bakhtin which was influential on some of the criticism that won me the previous award....so that should be interesting.

To lighten the mood, here are some 'American Sentences'—Ginsberg coined this. They are sentences of 17 syllables.

--How can shoes smell like brownies after sweaty feet step steps all day long?
--Mad Hatter only goes one leg at a time on prime number days.
--Pepperoni speckled quarters ooze melted goodness for less that 5.
--Umbrella handed, late for work, implicates madatory car splash.
--Tacky toned 12 truch tango triangulated testimonies.
--Tired of the regular ups and downs--the crossword went 3d.
--In transit to the shower, I learned how to juggle standing naked.
--Shit on the metro while dreams come true was Paris in a nutshell.
--Montmartre in the morning found blanket fog cover les banlieues.
--Skinny jeans wrap my legs waiting for alcohol's onslaught to begin.
--Shower necessitation results from procrastination today.

I'll put another one up soon.
love.