S. Krishna hosts Thursday Tunes every week, and this is my first week participating! I’m super excited to share my favorite songs with you. I’m going to start off this week with one of my favorite bands, Voxtrot. I found them when I was a senior in high school and I was all set to see them in concert, but their van broke down. Hey, it happens. One day we’ll meet again.
The song that started it all – The Start of Something (Raised by Wolves EP)
This song is Raised By Wolves off their first EP with the same name:
This week, Weekly Geeks asks you to post a quote a day all week and to unite them with a theme. The theme I have chosen is quotes from poetry.
There are poems I read and I say they kill me. My professor would say she is jealous that she didn’t write them first. But I think the feeling is essentially the same. There’s physical ache when you read them and afterward you’re never the same. I’m trying to read more poetry these days, because I usually stick to my favorites. Neruda, ee cummings and Derek Walcott. I’m sure most of you have heard of and read poetry by Neruda and ee cummings, but what about Walcott? He was a poet that I had never heard of before I took a post colonial literature class my freshman year. I don’t know what exactly it is about him, but his poetry is just beautiful. He writes about the islands of his birth with such beauty and honesty, I can’t get enough of it. Most of his poetry is very dense, begging to be read outloud.
While looking for the perfect poem/quote to feature, I found this one:
Broad sun-stoned beaches.
A green river.
scorched yellow palms
from the summer-sleeping house
drowsing through August.
Days I have held,
days I have lost,
days that outgrow, like daughters,
my harbouring arms.
It’s quite the departure from some of his other poetry, but it’s that last line that really gets to me. “days that outgrow, like daughters,/my harbouring arms” is that gut-wrenching line that I love. The image is so perfect, so original. I love it.
(Button photo credit: alsoknownascassie)
To celebrate the publication of my university’s literary magazine, I’m going to post an older poem of mine that was published in this semester’s edition of the magazine. Because I am the boss-lady, I don’t actually decide what goes in the magazine. Instead, committees of students anonymously judge the poetry, prose and art. They send me their selections and I reveal the authors.
The stairwells are littered
with the carcasses of cicadas.
Their brethren hum
a rolling roar, ululation,
in litany for the dead.
For in autumn death is splendid
as the corpses of summer insects
are shrouded in a Technicolor tapestry
and the proud skeletons
of oaks and Japanese maples,
lightened of their burdens,
graze the sky with spindly fingers.
They clip the wings of a shifting
menagerie; spring songbirds
traded for geese and gander.
Owls and bats,
patrons of the evening,
skulk in their dark haunts
of corners and crevices
while the beasts retreat
to their dens.
The air smells sweet and sharp –
the swelling of the soil,
and the frosting
of the grass.
So… are you surprised that I didn’t get Creative Writing Wednesday off the ground in time? No? Me neither! But here it is, better late than never. I wrote this for my poetry class. It’s not finished, but it will do for now.
Thanks to Picnik and Flickr Creative Commons search for making this button possible
The First Death in New Jersey
Under the boardwalk, the dead
fish float, bloated
and bloody, leftover hooks
in their chins. We leaned
through the rails, crushing
our stomachs against the wood,
to count them, in the
I wore a bikini, the last
I smoked sugar
cigarettes with Chiefs
on the boxes. We bought them clandestinely,
when our parents
thought we were buying
gummy worms and rock pops.
I let them hang from my mouth,
with fake bravery, as I tried
my cousin’s accent.
In that last summer,
I saw my first dead body. We ran
from the dunes,
where we were lost in the desert,
to the crowd that had already gathered
around the girl.
The lifeguard tried to pump life
back into her body, counting
one two three. One, two, three.
Maybe her face was blue
or her ribs were broken, but all I remember
is the bathing suit – purple, with little yellow flowers.
The lifeguard stopped trying.
A small woman I hadn’t noticed before
sank next to the body.
It was all a spectator sport,
and we were only the rubberneckers.
That ending needs some work, my friends.
I hope you all had a safe and happy transition into 2009!
Second: I’m going to try Booking Through Thursday!
This weeks question is: “So… any Reading Resolutions?…Anything at all? Name at least ONE thing you’re looking forward to reading this year!”
My reading resolutions are pretty simple – to finish my challenges. The thing I’m looking forward to reading most in the next week or so is Musicophilia by Oliver Saks, as part of my Dewey Decimal Challenge. I can’t wait, but I need to finish The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien first. I’m really excited about this whole blogging thing, which I think is pretty obvious considering how much I’ve posted. I’ve finally found the blog combination that works for me and I’m thrilled about it! So my other reading resolution/blog resolution is to keep reading and keep blogging. And keep making blogging friends.