Jordan Cox and Alan Lin Proudly Present: This Guy...

I love you because your butt is kind of high

I love you when you're in pain

Curly-cues of translucency spot your legs
I want to prick—
At them

Oh! The noises you make...

I will open palm you like a penguin ninja

Your adorable angry eyes make me want to throw up daisies and puppies

I will vomit them onto delightful duck calenders

You're so nice Your heart is bigger than your dick

And your dick
If your feet are any indication
Is probably larger than a small cactus

Probably sharper than a small cactus too (I've seen those holes in your shorts)

Your shorts which I will breathe through like pure oxygen

Oh! I'll suck your shorts!

Like the Ring Pop I intend to give you someday

If you weren't so white and gay I'd make sweet 'n sour love to you

I'd baste your loins in barbecue sauce and eat white-meat chicken nuggets with both hands

Gobble Gobble
Like Thanksgiving dinner I'll turducken your body

Uh - huh... Pumpkin... Nugget

And pumpkin spice and everything nice
Ah - ha! High - five! High - five!

You laugh and dance and command primal joy!
Tall number two, what'd I do without you

brian and john

Bless you o lords of the words for making the mundane daneMany smithonians attempt to create you yet only few succeedBless those fewWith their magical prowess they are able to carry any able-bodied soul anywhereDragging us from our seats into their magical mythical worldThrough abuseThrough ecstasyThrough painThrough joyThrough the sheer beauty and brillianceTo the unnerving sightsThey have me for now and foreverFor their touch is that of Midas: It turns all to goldFor the words on the page shimmer in the right lightThe words are priceless Words are pricelessHearing the spoken words caress the earsSoothing the body with the calming rhythm And pacified locationsSmithonians who can turn a gentle leaf into a ten page extravaganzaWho take every wrinkle on any surface and turning it to beautyAn artist of words

Partner poem finale

A Celebration With a Working Class Crew.

I need to get out of here because i'm delirious
Oh ya well don't forget 15/20, and 35 to 45 on Deliveries
It's...It's...It's... Lavender and Vanilla.
This place smells like the inside of my dog's ass hole.
You need to get this Done before Travis Leaves.
You need to get this Done before Travis Leaves.
You need to get this Done Before Travis Leaves.
My dog is going to get sucked up by the Tornado. I wish that dog would Die.
I'm miss Hoopston and lost 2olbs. I used to do bulimia for 12 years
She acts like its a drug, maybe you should get her cream out of the bathroom.
My mother ruined my life...and she is such a druggie.Hi loves i'm a delivery driver tonight, is that a mess-up...damn you're lucky.
Sometimes I close my eyes and hope that someday I'll wake up somewhere else.
There is this giant-sized headache looming over the right side of my head, where a puss-filled zit won't pop...Hey...uh...Veronica...I got your bubble bath going.
Hey, why not someday you and me go and kick it?
I feel like everyone takes a giant poop on my chest...you are the bitch of the place.
Smells like you guys are burning the pizza, can you explain the two taxes?
I want a large pizza with sausage, double sausage, pepperoni, ham, bacon, ground beef and beef steak...OH, and a small diet pepsi.
Yeah, well I want a large pain-in-the-ass punch from the sweat off that oven guy who burns his skin off, reaching for your large-ass heart attack pie.
This place is listed under temple of doom in my phone.
This place is listed under life ruiner in my phone.
Hell is okay, when you have a friend to share it with.

Something We Can All Agree On

Two noons after an earthquake shook
her cats and the neurotic man with whom
she slept, she questioned: "We have been
offered ev'ry reason to believe
that we are completely fucked, yes?"

With mouth filled with mint chocolate
chip ice cream, he answered: " 'Fucked'
implies consent, and I, for one,
have no recollection offering
Life my permission to penetrate
my unsuspecting cavities with its un-
sympathetic sexual appendages,
however," pausing to swallow what was
in his mouth, "When sodomized by
Life, hire a lawyer and take its ass
to court and make money! At least
that is what I have read about those
who can not proficiently coffee
cups."

Meanwhile, ants had reached the summit
of Mount Cold Stone and had begun to set
up camp, feasting on the remnants of our
dairy desserts. This sight led them
to the conclusion that ants, like themselves
have the most grand of tastes in ice cream.

--by Amanda Hammer and Zach Chillman

Late Poem, Cantos Parody

Finnish him! said Martti Ahtisaari
I point my finger at you You weighed more
in Zangband
an existence pissociated in 16X16 tiles

Cathect the dots
of other words it alterity gaijin

“Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose”

O Fiossfallaich the giant swung you a great black chain
was revenge sweet
though you were unnecessary

Street urchins recoil when the
naked neutered antlered
thing comes.
cast all hopes in 20 assorted items
And no more than a score will be at hand.
Time stands and awaits reaction.

Danger in every curiosity
ma così spera
Newspapers know say what
presidents popes imams
shemps curlies moes

The jestry bore-ders the end

If I Were an M & M, Would You Eat Me?

‘Fucked’ implies consent, consent that I didn’t offer

as my unsuspecting cavities have been penetrated by

life’s unsympathetic appendages,

but it’s like they say, “When sodomized by life,

file a class-action lawsuit and take their asses to court!”

or something like that.

Despite the unwanted sexual experience

and the differences we may have in how ‘fuck’ is defined,

ants and I will get along just fine because of our affection

for mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Question: are there different flavor of ‘chips’ like those

that are chocolate? I would like some cherry chips.

Regardless, I went to a candy store once that sold candy covered ants,

and I went to the clerk and asked if he knew what sort of

ants they were. He didn’t understand the question.

Which of the 12,000 species of the Formicidae family

were encrusted by sugary coating?

“What does it matter? They’re ants.”

They’re ants, funny, because we’re just people.

There are thousands of different types of those

and that seems to cause a big stink in some places.

So why can’t we look at people the same

way the less than friendly clerk

looks at candy covered ants?

Why can’t we all be just people?

Like M & Ms,

different epidermal outsides,

a bunch of person in the middle.

Draft for Partner Poem

The perfumed smell of rain declares the end of the day
And I pack up my tools and leave it to tend to the flowers
It becomes sucked into dry dusty earth and makes it moist
But it is cleansing, and cleans everything it touches
Nourishes the droopy sun soaked grass, trees, and flowers
Cools off the blistering sand
Rain, the often-unwelcomed enemy that we cannot live without

May Swenson

Admiration

There is every reason to believe that we are fucked.

An earthquake shook my cats and the

Neurotic man lying next to me.

I say it is tornado season not earthquake season

And the wind took my second scoop of ice cream

And threw it on the ground.

My creamy happiness landed in an anthill.

I cursed at mother nature and she sent her

Cronies to clean up the mess.

Of all the insects, ants like mint chocolate chip

The best.

Or perhaps I’m just searching, guessing

At my place in the order of things, insects, earthquakes.

Because I don’t have it figured out or I do and then

Mother nature shakes my cats in Illinois and then

I don’t again.

But this day when I sometimes step on bugs

Because I am not superior just larger

Admire the living specks of chocolate chip ants

In the milky green

And just admire.

partner poem

my partner for the poem is rachael.

We were thinking about celebrating the end of the school year and everything that that brings. So celebrating summber but also realizing that means we have to work, celebrating the weather but maybe not being able to enjoy it, celebrating the end of one chapter and beginning another, the scary decisions that we have to make when we are done with school, etc.

We are planning on doing this by alternating lines but we don't have anything to post yet.

Deep spidery roots wrap around a fiery core
And cradle its warmth.
The roots travel underneath pattering feet.
The feet unaware of the living oxygen tanks
Beneath them
The ones that do not explode unless triggered
Or swallowed by immense dying stars.
The roots creep to the top and tickle the
Backward moving pattering feet.
The roots grow out of their blossoming mother
And stretch and stretch towards their grands.
They will bend back towards their mother
And weep, and weep and grow.
Vainy, chameleoned fingers shade
The pattering feet walking faster now.
The outstretched fingers embrace other lovers
And shade their mothers belly before the storm.

Let/For Resubmission...

Gabe ~ please reevaluate this Let/For Poem...Thanks! Let us rejoice in the religion that has torn this world asunder For the truth that it preaches contradicts thoughts of seekers. Let nymphos rejoice in the insatiable lust of their libidos For in ignorance they dwell as hippopotamuses betwixt silken sheets Let us rejoice in the process of hope For it is all that can sate a lonely soul Let the Pagans rejoice in the splendor of the Old Ways For Mother Nature is ever-present, hearkening them to dance Let us rejoice in the beauty of trees For our breath is dependent upon boughs and leaves Let SINNERS everywhere rejoice—fornicators and hypocrites, For there is no Hell except for that which they create themselves Let us rejoice in the transfixing lure of the fire For its burning and festering transcends the embers Let the Eye of Ra rejoice in its unfaltering gaze For it is always aware, ever-protectant of its beholder Let us rejoice in the pointlessness of time For its existence is tragically flawed, devoid of true meaning Let wanderers rejoice in the unpredictability of tomorrow For happiness moves with the winds of their sorrows Let us rejoice in the power of words For without them expression would be feigned Let poets rejoice in the release of all feeling For through poetry the seer possesses a sight of another world.

My portion of the partner stickomythia...

Damn you Bastards! You ignorant usurpers of the wild— Destructive deforestators! Rapers of Mother Earth’s loving, prosperous cunt! Fuck you! You Oxygen thieves of the carbon monoxide breed! O beautiful trees are these, rustling in the softest breeze. Glad am I for Mother Earth, This shelter through which we build the world. An alcove of trees, such divine beauty The way they breathe, exhaling life and support for us all. Backbones of sustenance, not to be taken for granted. The roots run deeper than the eye can see Their gorgeous feet hugging the soil, —Semetricality to the boughs and leaves Outstretched, offering an eternal embrace to those who would celebrate their ent-like splendor.

Partner poem snip it

A Celebration With a Working Class Crew.

I need to get out of here because i'm delirious
Oh ya well don't forget 15/20, and 35 to 45 on Deliveries
It's...It's...It... Lavender and Vanilla.
This place smells like the inside of my dog's ass hole.
You need to get this Done before Travis Leaves.
You need to get this Done before Travis Leaves.
You need to get this Done Before Travis Leaves.
My dog is going to get sucked up by the Tornado.
I wish that dog would Die.
I'm miss Hoopston and lost 2olbs
I used to do bulimia for 12 years
She acts like its a drug, maybe you should get her cream out of the bathroom.
My mother ruined my life
...and she is such a druggie.
Hi loves i'm a delivery driver tonight
is that a mess-up...damn you're lucky

Paper Stuff

The poet I'm focusing on is Ai. She's a very "cut the bullshit" type writer who uses the dramatic monologue. Rather than focus on a certain event or action at the beginning of her writing, she builds a character. Writing in the first person about some pretty horrible stuff is a skill I'm glad I don't have. She says that she has to actually put herself into the shoes of her characters and imagine how they would act and react to the actions going on in the world around them. While she only used fictional characters at the beginning of her career, she began to take on high profile people, such as John F. Kennedy, James Dean, Jimmy Hofa, and others. In order to dive into the minds of these individuals, she said that she usually does extensive research by reading biographies about them.
For my paper, I'd like to write an extended dramatic monologue. I'd like to use a character modeled after myself as the speaker. And, I'm going to revisit some of the darkest characters that Ai has written about, as well as visit with her recreations of the more famous ones and some people that she hasn't yet written about. I'm talking about some of the scourge of the earth. Should be a lot of fun writing this, and I plan on including footnotes that will detail where the characters of Ai's creation can be found, as well as some stylistic notes.

Well, I forgot...

Okay, so I forgot the post yesterday. So, in lieu of that...while I agree with everyone that personal crap has no place in the class, I do think it has a place here. Yesterday was the first anniversary of my mother's death. Yeah, I know: boo-hoo, we all go through it, at least we should, the inverse of the scenario is too hard to wrap your head around from their p.o.v. ANYWAY, so I'm secure enough with myself and the situation to apparently use it as an excuse here for not posting yesterday, and, though this is ostensibly b.s. to some, I've got the goods to back it up. The link below goes to my sister's scrapbooking blog (yes, scrapbooking, wanna fight about it?)...she posted something I wrote for eng. 284 last year a week after mom passed...B. Kinsella probably had to peer-review it. It's prose; so I apologize for my loquaciousness. So...it's an investment in time, and a little too precious, but it's my tribute and a snapshot of a tough week in someone's life (*mine). If you hit the link, scroll down to her April 12th post...and try not to get caught up in the insane world of scrapbooking, I hear most of those people have debilitating cocaine addictions.

http://www.gingergrace.typepad.com/

Female Poet, Male Critics, What the F?!

Diane Wakoski is often put into the same category of women poets including Plath, Sexton, and Rich to name a few; pretty big names all of whom I have heard of except for Wakoski until reading her work for this class. Why have I not heard of her until now? What makes her less noted? Her poetry is labeled dismal, emotional, hateful, unmeaningfull, rambling, lacking cohesiveness, angry, blameful. She is often praised for her “contemporary” feminist views, like women haven’t been thinking and going through what she went through since the beginning of time. And then she is criticized for her raw emotion. Some have said she doesn’t feel she embodies any kind of connective spirit amongst women going against my idea that even though she had some traumatic events that I have never encountered she is fully connected with other women even with other people and how we all suffer. She gave up two children for adoption in the 50’s when premarital sex was a travesty, her father abandoned her and her mother at a young age, she has been married four times, many of her male companions cheated on her, she was shy even though she liked to show off her smarts throughout her jr. high and high school career, and she spent many years living financially off of others to pursue her poetry. Ok, I don’t relate to any of that but still I feel connected to her. Diane includes many of the people from her personal history in her work including a creepy connection with her beloved Uncle Elmer and George Washington whom Diane uses to embody fathers, political leaders, and sexual partners. She has one ongoing poem entitled Greed which is divided by numbers. Part 14 was trashed by the New York Times. Growing old has finally given Diane something worth complaining about. So many critics I have read in reference books are men who more times than not give little credit to Diane’s subject matter and style. Many claim that when she expresses situations from her personal history, which is basically all of what she writes, she rambles on and the poetic value drops. Some women say the same thing, that she gives a bad impression of women as weak and unable to cope with the stresses of their lives. Writing is coping and she did a hell of a lot of it. She is well published. Why had I not heard of her?

Alice Walker ~ Blurbs...

-Amazing poet, author, woman whose writing has changed my life -Plethora of earth-based poetry that has the potential to speak to everyone in some way -5 books of poetry, four of which were published in a book entitled Her Blue Body Everything We Know: Earthling Poems 1965-1990. -If she was willing to give this book the subtitle of "Earthling Poems," then she too must view the vast majority of her poems as earth-based. -This book of "Earthling Poems" has sixteen new poems that did not appear in her previous works and these poems take on serious issues like racism, hatred, and issues of gender. -"Eagle Rock" (pg. 180) seems to apply to her Cherokee roots -Her poems seem to coincide with various aspects of her life that were impacted by culture/society -"Expect Nothing" (pg. 191) is one of her more cynical, but realistic poems ~ reflects personal views on life -Alice Walker is a prolific writer who lets her heart speak out through her words -Poems at the end of "Earthling Poems" seem like a stepping stone to her sixth and most recent book of poetry Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth -The vast majority of her poetry comes off as genuine and personal, but with a broader implication -Her third book of poetry Good Night Willie Lee, I'll See You in the Morning, emphasizes familial ties and personal heritage. Acceptance of death. -Versatile poetry that has various effects on different people and makes them feel that there is something eluding them beyond the mist of her poetry, just within their grasp. -The progression of her poems seems to follow a logical progression with the course of her life, but can also be representative of some of the different stages that readers have undergone/will undergo in their lives. -Her poetry seems accessible to a wide audience, because although a plethora of her poems are earth-based or are based upon her personal philosophy and love for life, they still contain common themes. -"Remember?" (pg. 318) is the second poem in her fourth book of poetry Horses Make a Landscape Look More Beautiful, and it seems to summarize the theme of this entire book of poetry: HOPE for the human race. -"I am the woman: Dark / repaired, healed / Listening to you. / I would give / to the human race / only hope. / I am the woman / offering two flowers / whose roots / are twin / Justice and Hope / Let us begin" (pg. 318) ~ profound lines of poetry. -Is she trying to qualify herself as a 'whole' person before making the claims and assertions she does in this book of poetry? -Her first book of poetry, Once, is full of despairing poems that essentially saved Walker's life after her abortion. -One of the only books of poetry where she experiments with indentation on the page. Highly personal poems. -Progression of poems over time = KEY!! -Alice Walker’s interview with Jean Ross = good to show her opinion of her own growth as a poet -Poetry = Walker’s Passion! -Contemporary poems relate to world outside of herself—reclaim ancient global connections…Cherokee roots (Horses Make a Landscape Look More Beautiful) -In Revolutionary Petunias she touches upon relationship dynamics within the black community. -Book of self-discovery as well! -Some declare Walker to be a “womanist,” but I disagree as I think it is used derogatorily and any semblance of feminism in her writing is out of a genuine concern for the equality of women. -Thadious Davis’s criticisms could be a good source to argue against. -Walker’s poetry provides a clear depiction of her love for nature, her inner harmony, and her oneness with the universe. Looking at the title of her most recent book is a clear indication of where she stands right now—Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth. -Trust is a crucial element in many of her poems, especially the more contemporary ones. -Highly meditative poems that encourage deep reflection among readers. -“These Mornings of Rain” (pg. 319) ~ “…meditation / has made me one / with the pine tree / outside my door…” ~ example of her personal oneness with the earth coming out through poetry. -Walker’s inner peace truly prevails in her later poems -Her poems have inspired me to be less critical, to accept what cannot be changed, and to try and live in peace and harmony with others and nature.

Paper post

Paper on Lorna Dee Cervantes
Thesis about the poem:Poem for the Young White Man Who asked me how I, an intelligent, well-read person could believe in the war between races.
The thesis about the way Cervantes, as poet, has many voices within the poem, one of being minority in both sex and race, but then also having a voice separate from the minority, having the voice of a poet.
The paper also delves into analysing the reasoning behind this specific poem being the one in Anthologies.
Also sections on the way the poem is connected to another poem in the book Emplumada.
How this book of poetry relates to her other books, the way her poetry has changed
The style of that specific poem compared to other poems in the book.

EvFL Brainstorm

This essay is about suicide.

Or rather a study of a metaphysical suicide. Given that I do not intend on talking about how a person comes to that decision or various aspects of suicide within literature, I have a different idea in mind. I do not mean the physical act of killing oneself, but rather the choice and the actions of the author in how she ended her phrases, her poem, her presence, in her poem “ThistledownFlight”. There are six different versions of this unpublished poem available and it is important to look at each one to help determine the author's views on death through the choice of her words, her stanzas, her endings, the finale of the poem, a study of a metaphysical suicide within a poem.

What is

metaphysical suicide? -

the understanding beyond the death?

The markings of the reason behind the actions? -

or the physical act which a person molds their world, signfying their death, literal or figurative.

Suicidal pregancies cast aside in the decaying orchids

poppies really, thats what they are

open your heart with a surgical knife, shiva

I evoke your name

mother leave me alone

she write

and

write -

why the dashes

hash

marks! -

if the dash marks matter, like all does, then why the dash? Cutting physically and emotionally away the superflious fluids around the jello, leave the fruit? Orchids don't have fruid do they? Vanilla is a orchid. But thats not a fruit, tis a spice/flavoring. So where is the spice and flavoringof this poem...

is it like italian... all you see is what you get

and all you need?

the

long

and

winding -

road -

dark -

light-

I

am

a walrus

why beatles -

mother

mary-

meta-

suicide is

alone-

written much, found nothing

only desire

death

blight

birth -

no period

only

exclamation -

dash

dash -

away

no articles

I picture this all in the garden where jesus prayed to god before he died, the speaker praying to ghingha, whomever this deity may be, and the speaker is EvFL... maybe in the end that is all there is to this, a pray for the end to come, seems so sad... I feel sadden by her turmoil...

garden

eden -

temptation

nowisdom -

her

words

not mine

mother no wept

in her form

lacking adjectives

lacking articles

lacking filler

just words

just meaning

but what meaning

“why her soul in my flesh”

mother

where

you

mother

shiva is a god, who is ghingha?

Beacon = lighthoues on a island

orchids = poppies? = death?

Quake anew...

whose words

wheres the speaker

wheres the author

ALL CAPS

editor's choice

or hers?

Type written,

garden eden

blight birth

thistledownflight

who can

be

held

responsible -

dash

away -