#9

From the book: The Worlds One Thousand Best Poems Vol. 9
copyright 1929, Funk and Wagnalls Co.

Poetry is Such Sweet Sorrow

Ye flowers, sigh forth your ordours with sad buds;
Flush deep, ye roses and anemones
And more than ever now, oh hyacinth, show
Your written sorrows-- the sweet singer's dead.

I heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till my blood was frozen slowly,
And my eyes were darkened wholly,

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark.

Stormid at with shot and shell,
Boldly I rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death
Into the mouth of hell.

But now shine on, and what care I,
Who in this stormy gulf have found a pearl
To countercharm of space and hollow sky,
And do accept my madness, and would die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eyestrings break in death,
When I soar through tracks unknown
See thee on Thy Judgment-Throne;

Nay, Tell me first in what new region springs
A flowr, that bears inscribed the names of kings.

Extra credit

Dante's Inferno epigraph:
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
( if I believed my reply were given)
A persona chemia tornasse al mondo,
(to one who might ever return to the earth, this fire would cease further monement)
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
(but as for this chasm)
Mia perciocche giammai di questo fondo
(no one has ever come back alive---)
Non torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,
(if what I have heard is true---)
Sensa tema d'infamia ti rispondo.
(without fearing infamy will I respond to you)
I believe T.S. Elliot chose to use Dante's Inferno epigraph to give homage to the Poet, and also to add emphasis on his interactions with people in the poem, even if his reply/response were given to them, would it have made a difference to the lady's talking of Michelangelo, "So how should I presume? And how should I presume? And then should I presume? And how should I begin?" The dammed souls in the depths of hell speaking their secrets is similar to the confessions of J. Alfred Prufrock in that he too is confessing his vanity of what others think. "When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, Then how should I begin." He feels like he is a specimen to be scrutinized and dissected, in his eyes pinned. He is confessing like many of the dammed souls because he too is in a state of eternal hell/limbo. How should he start a conversation, what people will think of him, with his balding head, and rolled up pant, his age, when he is around such women/people. The audience in Dante's Inferno is like that of the audience in J. Alfred Prufrock in that we all have vanity in us. How we look in certain people's company, are we too big, or small, pretty or ugly, rich or poor. What will people think? Its the fact that all people judge and are judged for what they do in life, and in turn in death. He is reaching the age to start thinking of the "eternal footman" and death laughs. But doesn't death laugh at us all? Everyone eventually meets death.

Pillows Fallen From Heaven #18

He dreamt of feather pillows from the time he was just a young buck, My Grampa. The kind of pillows that are soft like clouds, floating up into the atmosphere. Swirling, whirling with just one touch to the little pink flowers. Aereolar brown, were the pillow cases. Like the skin of a velvet brown mink or martin. Resting your head just so. Tilted just right. Makes your nest nice and tight. Cuddle right-in-between-them. The perfect angle of rest, and of sight. The kind of rest you can curl up in a ball and forget you were ever born. Rest that takes you to a whole other plane of consciousness, bliss. Uncontrollable, unequivetable, unrelentless, euphoria---, ultimate utopia. Just two minutes there will put your eyes and body to sleep, but your mind is still left racing, like your heart. It all started with Grandmother’s soft feather pillows, they were the best and biggest. Fluffy if you like. They were full of love. Both of them, the twins, she called them. Big wouldn’t give them justice. Enormous, ginormous, still isn’t quit the word, wondrous, maybe. I think ‘ol Gramps was ambidextrous, never was he tenebrous. His demeanor was always happy, especially after a nice long nipper. The sweet smell that they had, lilac. And a touch of White Diamonds. Just around the neck. The softest pillows of the planet, the atmosphere, they always drew you in near….Never Fear. The gloriousness of them, hugs with no fear. Lightnin and thunda do sometimes clash, but those pillows will always last. Through the long night and until the wee morn. Grandmother and her pillows are now gone. And I’ll have to give it to the good ‘ol boy. Got himself a few other pairs, accompanied with Choke-cherry pie. He dreamt of feather pillows from the time he was just a young buck.   

Blog 18 "A Blessing"

Freedom In The Blue's
Down a footpath deep into forest green, The Blue's,
Crystal waters trickle over the rounded stones of time.
The queer round sulfur eye of the mud-puppy
Burns deep into conscious memory.
Lurking in shallow rock beds
Transfixed on the pale intruder.
Stepping into aqua pura seeing more clearly
Motionless poised in terrified position.
Slowly breathing through, sullen movements of camouflage
While I stand never moving.
Silent bubbles escape from the blushing gills. Still softly breathing.
Their freedom is only temporary.
The dark crevice is their home,
In a blink of an eye, it engulfs a tadpole for it's dinner.
I want to feel the life from the savage body,
Yet the pup is still treading.
Darting from one side to other.
The pup is ruby and mud brown,
Durma smooth with flaming gill,
The softness beckons me to grasp it's thin torso
Miry smooth skin like a glistening brand new babe
Forthwith my enlightenment
If I move one muscle I will break consciousness
And I will die.

Does Poetry Matter?

Of course poetry matters! If one stops and thinks a little, it is all around us everyday. The music we listen to is poetry. We like it because it flows, rhymes, touches our souls, evokes memories of people or places we have been. Maybe a song reminds you of an old boyfriend or girlfriend like Beyonce's "Put a Ring on It", or maybe that old country song reminds you of a grandparent, Johnny Cash and his song "Ring of Fire". A rap song could remind you of the inner city problems of today's generation, drugs, drive by's, the things gangsters do, with explosive words, like "BLOW," on e of E-40's coined words of choice. When you here "BLOW" you know its him in the song, because that may be the only thing he says, if he is doing a guest appearance in another rappers song. You may have never realized that the words in movies you watch are poetry, a line that you will never forget, like Old Chief Lone Waddy, in the Outlaw Jose Whales, "I will endeavor to persevere." His line resonates in my mind even today when I feel that I am feeling down. Though I did agree that poetry is not mainstream as it once was in the times of old, much of today's poerty is crap and not worth the time, but when you find that one poem you love, you will never forget it. Like the nursery rhymes your mother or grandmother told you before bed, or at lunch, or by the old tire swing in the backyard. Poetry maters very much, in the lives of everyone, even if you didn't know it, its there lurking.

blog 15

A Conversation Standing Around a Campfire In Idaho
Did you know that in some states it is illegal to have sex.
u      /        u      /    u     /      /       u  /  u /      u   /      /
Hahaha, what do you mean its illegal to have sex?
 u / u /      u     /     u      /       u    u /   u    /      /
It's is illegal to have sex any other way than missionary position.
u    /  u /      u    /       /      u     /       u    u       u / /          u   /
Sodomy, is illegal in many of these great states.
u  /          u    u /    u    /      u     u      /         /
Gay people do sodomy. Hahahaha!
/        u  /      u      u  /       u / u /  u /
Well did you know that it is legal to shoot "Indians" still!
u        /     u     /         u  u /    /       u   /       u /           /
Hahaha! What, where?
u / u /          /         /
Here in Idaho, the law says it still.
u       u   u / /      u   /      u   /     /
It's in the books in town hall.
u     /   u     /        u    /    /
It is legal to shoot an "Indian" if your riding in a covered wagon.
u   /   /      u     /   u       u /      u    /     u /    u  u    u /         u /
Hahaha, what? If you see an "Indian" and he is shooting an arrow at you.
u / u /          /       u   /      u    u    u /     u     /   u     u /        u   u /     u   /
Well, you have to be in a covered wagon, you can still shoot 'em!
u         /      u     /   u   /   u   u /       u /          u   /       u    /        /
(Everyone turns and notices I am standing behind them, wide eyed.)
I must have forgotten my hatchet.
u    /      u     u  /          u     u /
I didn't know it was that kinda party.
u    /        u     /    u     /       u /     u /

Imagist Poem #14

On a Path of Peace

The cardinal red apples trussed o'er thick branches
            raptured ghost, of a lost war.

Sestina Sleep

The last breath of days upon us,

Seeds of memories against our will,

Heads pressed upon our pillow sleep,

A master of inner cranium design,

Thoughts of fantastic creature and places

Love and wonder sparkling like morning dew.

Upon the night sight bring others dew,

Disguised in darkness creeping near us,

Fights off thoughts of devils design,

Lightly feathered wings of sleep,

Time awakens weakens will,

Breathing is peaceful in these quiet places.

Stream of crystals and garden places,

Mountains rugged, purple-gray misty dew,

Vivid images of knights and castles ravage us,

Imps, witches, savages, of our own design,

Time is mute and space still sleep,

Rambling, fighting, clenched fights of will.

Knights in passing fists of will,

Keeps the demons in their places,

Breasts of silver, blood-like dew,

Swords held high the fight is in us,

Slicing, dicing forceful design,

Riding on unicorn dust, wings of sleep.

Breaking in our minds deep sleep,

Victory triumphant voices will,

Peaceful laughing, smiling with us,

Eyes shine bright within sleeps murky dew,

Demons slayed, return safe protected places,

Patterns in our heads design.

Time for new ideas design,

Unconscious natural state of REM sleep,

Taking on future exciting dangers with enormous will,

The right occasion for such wondrous places,

Small droplets of water dreams of dew,

A vague clarity streaming from us,

All within us achieving a grand design,

Peaceful resurrections will play a cast of valored sleep,

Night’s auspicious places still reminiscent of morning’s dew.

Ode to the Duckface

Ode to the Duckface
Lookin' in the mirror,
one eyebrow up
          one down,
head slightly tilted,
    pursed lips,
coated with shine lipstick,
Duckface.
Waking up in the
      morning,
tiered sleep filled eyes,
  messy bedhead
smeared black eye-liner,
mirror shines bright,
Duckface.
Driving in a car,
         looking hot,
music blasting
     Lana Del Ray,
leaning in close to see
Tilted rear-view mirror,
Duckface.
It makes big girls
    look skinny,
skinny girls skinnier,
ugly girls
     look pretty
time for a pic!
Duckface.
Walls of blank gray,
hard metal square
   graffitied
 stall doors,
crowded quarters,
Huge silver full length mirror,
Duckface.
Drinking, guzzling, pounding,
the night away,
deeper and deeper
      you go,
snap, snap, snap,
       Pose,
Duckface.
Facebook wall
posting, posting, posting,
male,
        female,
it makes you look
   fucking awesome,
Duckface.
Morning after,
waking up in a haze
   of enjoyment,
Looking to your left,
remembering, remembered,
    coyote ugly
Duckface.

Bartleby and Orientation

A point by point compare and contrast between Herman Melville's "Bartleby" and Daniel Orozco's "Orientation" and the underlying theme of work.When comparing Bartleby and Orientation they are very different in the way that the boss interacts with his employees that sets up the mood, or a sneak peak into the roles of the different character in relation to their employer. In Bartleby the boss has a certain relationship with his employers, he in a way, cares about their well-being and has empathy for them. "One winters day I presented Turkey with a highly respectable-looking coat of my own---a padded grey coat, of a most comfortable warmth, and which buttoned straight up from the knee to the neck. I thought Turkey would appreciate the favor" (409). In Orientation the relationship between boss and co-worker is vastly different, you are there to work by the book. " Be polite and civil to the temps. Learn their names, and invite them to lunch occasionally. But don't get close to them, as it only makes it more difficult when they leave. And they always leave" (46). No personal empathy for a fellow co-worker here. It makes the boos seem less likable, i would rather work for a boss that shows he cares about me and my well-being and values my efforts as an employee.
Next I will compare and contrast the interactions that the co-workers have with each other and accomplishing their work in the two storey's. "I would prefer not to," in Bartleby makes a rift between the co-workers, not obeying the commands of your employer is unheard of, insolence of an unprecedented measure. If one refuses to do work, he is usually gets fired, this is not the case in this story. Bartleby infuriates his co-workers for passively not doing his work, as Nipper's says, "I think you should kick him out of the office" (413). In Orientation the relationship between co-workers and the reason for possibly getting let go is much different. The employees are not focused on doing the work but the unconventionality of what you are and aren't suppose to know about your co-workers lives. It may cost you your job, "But we aren't supposed to know any of this. Do not let on. If you let on you may be let go" (47). No rift, even though you know way too much personal information, its not working that could get you fired, its knowledge.
Lastly I will contrast the effects of the way the boss treats the information given to them about their employees in relation to how it makes you feel about them. In Bartleby you feel a sense of compassion for the employer. The way he passively just lets Bartleby refuse to do his work and get away with it. Instead of tackling the problem head on and firing him, confronting him, throwing him out onto the streets to fend for himself, he cannot do it, so he just up and moves his business to another location to avoid any such conflict, his regret and empathy for Bartleby is a burden on his conscience. "What ought I do? what does conscience say I should do with this man, or, rather, ghost. Rid myself of him, I must; go, he shall. [...] I will move elsewhere, and give him fair notice" (426). In Orientation you really have no feelings towards the orientator, you just do you r work, you find out all these things about fellow employees but never see the insight of how they are feeling. Weird and supernatural, even grave tales of the coworkers lives, you must overlook to work their, some to me cant be that easily overlooked, like being a creial killer, "Kevin Howard sits in that cubicle over there. He is a serial killer, the one they call the carpet cutter, responsible for the mutilations across town" (49). Which work place would you rather work in, or work for, a place where one employee gets to refuse to do his work, thus making you resent them, or work in an office where you may be sitting next to a serial killer? I don't think I would like to work for either employer.

"A &P"

In John Updike's short story "A & P," he contributes to the male chauvinistic roles in society by the view in which the nineteen year old cashier has about the women who he helps in his line, female stereotypes, and showing skin. Updike's description of the first woman he encounters, " She's one of these cash-register-watchers, a witch about fifty with rouge on her cheekbones and no eyebrows, and I know it made her day to trip me up," (p. 599). The nagging stereotypical housewife that had nothing better to do but make his life miserable, like most women of a certain age do, nag their husbands. She is a typical  1950's female. Updike also reveals the males lust towards the leader of the pack whom he calls "Queenie" dresses inside the store. It kind of gives him sexual excitement, being a man an all, "With the straps pushed off, there was nothing between the top of the suit and the top of her head except just her, this clean bare plane of the top of her chest down from her shoulder bones like a dented sheet of metal tilted in the light. I mean it was more than pretty" (p.600). Woman are sexual objects, they dress that way because they want the attention from a man, to notice them, and want them, even thought the girls were asked to dress more appropriately by the manager, they still got noticed, they still got their attention. He describes how the behavior of others in the store react to how the girls dressed, "A few housewives in pin curlers even looked around after pushing their carts past to make sure what they had seen was correct," (600) reflects oh societies view of how "girls ot to dress" when they are out in public, let alone inside the grocery store. They were in the middle of the town, not on the Cape at he beach. In a the eyes of society of that period, this sort of behavior was frowned upon because a lady would never go into a store with their bare shoulders showing. In the 1950's girls just didn't do such things if they were a lady. The story was definitely written by a man, in his point of view.

"The Yellow Wallpaper" facebook page

https://www.facebook.com/#!/julia.physician

I created a facebook character blog for "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, here is the link.

"Orientation"

This is room number ten, her name is Maybell West. Pictures adorn her walls of the family farm back east. She has hearing aids, upper partials, no fixodent. She says she can taste it all day long. Call light is here on the wall, always fasent it to the edge of the bed were she can reach it. Her family wants nothing to do with her because she only talks about the pigs and that they loved to eat little children. She will tell you that they ate three of hers, and that not one piece has ever been found. They ate the pigs you know. Remember to draw the curtain and wash your hands.
Room number eleven is empty. Door is shut, just leave it that way. The cleaning staff does a deep clean after someone leaves or dies. Don't get caught sleeping in one of the beds on your shift. You will get written up, depending how much management likes you, or fired.
Room twelve is Cecil Huffaker. Incontinent. Upper and lower dentures, glasses, hearing aids. Always put an undershirt on him. Left knee brace, use it for all transfers. Cecil is a bit handsy with the guys. He'll give your scrotum a good squeeze if hes in the right mood. He was never married and had no children but was a very active member of the church. He was a religious man, devoted to god, if you know what i mean. Check him every two hours when it is time for rounds, he is on a two hour bathroom schedule. Remember to wash your hands.
This door here is the dirty linen and trash closet. The code is 4558 backwards. Flip this and the code is hidden. Remember the code is 4558 backwards. Its that way because the residents cant figure it out if they try to get in. Dirty linen with feces, urine, wound drainage, mucus, sputum, emessis, or fluids from the lungs, abdomen, and spinal area go here. That is standard precautions for all patients that have bodily substance controls. Infection control guidelines are here in this book. If you get any of these materials on, or in your mouth or eyes here is the eye wash station. Don't lick your fingers.
Room thirteen is haunted. Imagene McKinny is in there now. She has her own teeth. Incontinent. Tow hour bathroom checks as well. Family does her own laundry. Put the bags in the left closet in the hamper. She eats in the assisted dinning area. Nectar thick liquids. Everyone who has ever been in this room ends up dying within the year. You know that they are on their way when they start seeing the little children playing in the corner of the rooms, or running up and down the hallways at night. Sometimes you can hear a faint laugh or cry. This place used to be a orphanage at the turn of the century. And a tb ward after that, then back to a children's home. Lots of people died here, some in mysterious ways. Imagene talks with a little boy. He tickles her feet at night. She is a very restless sleeper. Always wash your hands after exiting.

Southern "grotesque"

Flannery O'Connel's short story "A Good Man Is Hard To Find," is a perfect example of Southern Grotesque because it focuses on irony, the wrong turn on a family vacation, getting in a wreck, living through it, yet still meet their demise and get shot to death. The story also posseses a secular "grotesque" character, "The Misfit," who is the escaped killer convict. "A Good Man Is Hard To Find" reminds me in a  way of a biblical tale of family morals gone awry and their punishment. In the first sceen you have the grandmother, or soothsayer, who foreshadows the story when she says to Bailey, her only son for whom she lives with, "See here, read this," And she stood with one hand on her thin hip and the other rattling the newspaper at his bald head. "Here this fellow that calls himself The Misfit is aloose from the Fedral Pen and headed toward Florida." The son disregards her "old womanly" worries, thus not respecting thy mother and thy father, one of the ten commandments. The next circumstance that makes it a Southern grotesque masterpice is that the family turns down an old dusty road (of no return) because the granny want to see her home when she was a child, and then she realizes that she is actually thinking of a totally different state. The grandmother lied and manipulated to get her there, showing her deciet."It's not much farther," the grandmother said and just as she said it, a horrible thought came to her. The thought was so embarassing that she turned red in the face and her eyes dialated and her feet jumped up." The lie that set off a chain reaction leading them to wreck the car into a ditch. The children are misbehaved, disrespectful of adults, feeling sad that no one had died in the crash, not even paying attention to their mother who had a broken collarbone and their baby brother was of no concern either. Another notch on the ten comandments belt. The father disrespecting his mother, the children disrespecting all other adults, the grandmothers manipulation into getting what she wanted because she knew her son wouldn't honor her wishes, all cardinal sins, leads to their demise by The Misfit. He is the secular grotesque character in the story because you sermise that he grew up poor and abused by his father, feeling sorry for him, yet he kills a family in cold blood, even the little baby. The Misfit says to the grandmother, who's decietful actions got them into the whole perdicament, "Jesus thrown everything off balance," in turn being the family's ironic punisher for their "moral shortcomings." The tale is a "wrong turn"into the Southern Gothic style of writing and its deep seeded "moral corruption and human capacity for evil."(i'm sorry but the spell check doesnt work for some reason so i did my best)

"The Lottery" Julian Ankney

In Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery" concerns itself with concepts of magic and superstition and their place in society. In a town riddled in superstition the people stone a person at the end of June. I think this signifies a sacrifice to the Gods to ensure a bountiful harvest.  In the "selection" or "lottery" process is a way for the community to relinquish the blame from themselves and place it on a higher power in honor of that long steadfast tradition. "Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon"(294), is the old folk saying of the town in this story. After the sacrifice the corn will be harvested.  In biblical days, people would give a sacrifice to appease the Gods, so they in turn would be blessed in his favor and be granted a good harvest. If the sacrifice was worthy enough the harvest would be good. Old Man Warner says that "Listening to the young folks, nothings good enough for them. Next thing you know , they'll be wanting to go back and live in caves..." (294), reinforces the time old traditions of the town's people and their unwillingness to change the time honored ways of their ancestors. Though the people are viewed as a modern society the traditions are archaic like the testaments of old, not willing to chance to a more progressive, non-sacrificial mindset. In allot of ways it can mirror the thinking of our elders and the prejudices of today's society and its norms. For example, even though "All people are created equal" under the constitution, we have affirmative action programs, and we still have reservations for the Native Americans where they receive government help and are regulated federally. People of older generations are less willing to accept the things of modern society, like gay marriage and same sex adoption, or gays in the church or military.  If you say something wrong or look a certain way (brown skinned) you are automatically searched at the airports, even though we as Americans are granted the freedom of speech, we could be labeled as a terrorist and be caught up in the violent "War on Terror." It takes people coming together for the common good and having the willingness and openness to change the old mindsets and superstitions, step out of the old testaments and into the twenty first century to change your place in society.

"BOY" Julian Ankney

Always remember to chop and stack your wirewood the day before; not at night, or at sundown because you risk injusry to yourself. Learn how to build a good strong fire for your woman; a man who can't make fire is not suitable for a husband and your relationship will fizzle, just like your flame will. Remember to keep your blood strong, with Natives. Never leave your mocasins on the poorch at night, hang them up high else the dogs will run off with them in the night and chew them up. Catch your fish in the morning inside the reservation or at dusk when the fish are hungry, dont waste your time at midday. Always remember to gut your fish before it gets hot, fish are ruined if they bloat and will taste of waste. Always give thanks to the Mother for all that she provides for you and your family to eat. Never take too much for your family, only take what you will eat. Practice makes perfect, the more you ride and get to know your horse by brushing and feeding it, the horse will get to know you. Practice this. Never hit your horse and never hit your wife. Talk to your horse and let her familurize your voice, she will come when she hears you wisper her name. Always be gentle to your horse and your companion, and you will have a good relationship with trust and communication. Never force them to do something they dont want to and you will always be able to ride them. Remember to keep your Native blood strong. Learn from and respect your elders, they have the wisdom of the people. If an elder likes something that you have, you must always respect them and offer to give it to them; they may decline, but if they dont and they accept, you must give it to them. Never refuse a meal when it is offered at someone else's home. Eat all of the food that is given to you at the table of another, to refuse this kindship is to show them disrespect and you will put discrace on your family. Do not interrupt when an elder is speaking, never talk back, accept what is said to you with agreement. Say please and thank you when you recieve gifts from friends anf family. Stick up for the underdog, someday it could be you. Never pick a fight, but if you must you can end it. Dont run with sharpened sticks, you will poke your eye out. Choose a woman that can cook and you will be fed for the rest of your life. Make sure she can mend your leather, cut up your meat and has strong back to pack it. Your woman must know how to make fry bread and corn soup, and when you are home from work dinner is on the table for you. Remember to thank the Mother and keep your bloodline strong. Never date a white girl. Make time for sweat and brotherhood at least once a week. Practice your dance and spread your people's herritage. And remember to always thank the Mother for all that she has blessed your life with.

intro JulianAnkney

The nicest thing that I ever did for someone was, saving their life. I saved my little sister from drowning in the river when I was eleven years old camping in St. Marie's.
My teachers last year will tell you that I try never to miss a class and always turn my schoolwork in on time.
My friends will tell you that I am very opinionated and always right when I choose to speak.
People like me because I will always tell them the truth of the matter.
One thing people don't know about me is that I am superstitious.
 I am an expert on making home-made, delicious soups. My friends say I should open a restaurant, but I don't think I'm that good.
I want to know more about the laws and government because it interests me very much.
The bravest thing I ever did was face a bull straight in the horns. It almost made me piddle.
I am proud of myself for overcoming obstacles in my life, and going back to school.
I really need to make all A's and B's this year so I can get into the Radiology program here at LC.
My favorite class is anatomy because when I learn big words and say them in front of my non-college-going friends, it makes me feel smart.
My friends make me laugh when they say words wrong and don't know they said it wrong.
My pet peeve is when people turn without using their blinkers. I hate it.
When I am sad I listen to music that makes me happy.
The most stressful thing in my life is the thought of getting a bad grade. It stresses me out so badly.
I am named after Julian Lennon, John Lennon's son. John is from the Beatles.
I like a wide variety of music from classical Vivaldi, to Devin the Dude Rap, the only genre I do not listen to is Country. I am currently listening to Lana Del Rae, I have all her songs plus the remix CD.
My favorite color is green because I am just drawn to that color. Every color of green, I love them.
My favorite place on earth is laying in bed watching my son sleep beside me. He is my tiny world.