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.