Monday, September 6, 2010
Pedagogy forum, Week 4
I have been wondering ways in which to encourage future students in workshop, as instructor, while still giving valid criticism. I feel that I have the tendency to not be mean or give criticism without reason, but that I do not encourage the positive enough in student work. In talking to fellow poet, Nick McRae, he stated that he was actually the opposite—that he was more encouraging and less critical (constructively) when it come to other’ s work. We were attempting to talk over the delicate balance of rewarding and critically illuminating some aspect of writing to a student or even fellow classmate that they may not have had experience with yet. Neither of us came to a clear answer on how the balance could precisely be achieved, but I vowed to be more encouraging when it comes to student drafts. When thinking about future students in my own classroom I feel that I can be more beneficial to them and perhaps bolster their writing or their want to write if I posit my criticism in a more encouraging light.
Sign Inventory, Week 4
Edge
-Syliva Plath
*The poem is written in short, violently enjambed couplets.
*There is a volley of images and words that suggest a tension between releasing and coiling: flows in the scrolls of her toga, each dead child coiled, a white serpent, she has folded, stiffens, etc.
*Images of once living giving elements are mentioned as dead or empty: a dead woman and an empty milk pitcher.
*There are numerous ambiguious accomplishments and ownerships: smile of accomplishment (of what?), we have come this far (how far?), the moon has nothing to be sad about, She is used to this sort of thing (what sort of thing?), her blacks crackle and drag.
*Known and unknown objects are personified: blacks crackle and drag, the sweet, deep throats of the night flower, feet can speak of distance, etc.
*Children become white serpents, pitchers of milk, and petals from a rose.
*Greece and allusions to Greek culture appears as illusionary.
*The moon is gendered as female.
*Lines volley from short: Her dead--to--body wears the smile of accomplishment. There is also a tension between line lengths.
*The two shortest lines refer to the "perfected woman" in the poem: "Her dead" and "Her bare".
-Syliva Plath
*The poem is written in short, violently enjambed couplets.
*There is a volley of images and words that suggest a tension between releasing and coiling: flows in the scrolls of her toga, each dead child coiled, a white serpent, she has folded, stiffens, etc.
*Images of once living giving elements are mentioned as dead or empty: a dead woman and an empty milk pitcher.
*There are numerous ambiguious accomplishments and ownerships: smile of accomplishment (of what?), we have come this far (how far?), the moon has nothing to be sad about, She is used to this sort of thing (what sort of thing?), her blacks crackle and drag.
*Known and unknown objects are personified: blacks crackle and drag, the sweet, deep throats of the night flower, feet can speak of distance, etc.
*Children become white serpents, pitchers of milk, and petals from a rose.
*Greece and allusions to Greek culture appears as illusionary.
*The moon is gendered as female.
*Lines volley from short: Her dead--to--body wears the smile of accomplishment. There is also a tension between line lengths.
*The two shortest lines refer to the "perfected woman" in the poem: "Her dead" and "Her bare".
Calisthenics, Week 4
When we go to Asia i will stop dreaming
about molars and cuspids that fall out.
When we go to Asia I will wear the body
of a tiger and the head of a mountain top.
When we go to Asia you will find your feet
can't define the ground, that dirt is only
what you knew yesterday. When we go to Asia
we will die as elephants and be reborn
as the coarse split haris on a coconut.
When we go to Asia all that is unfolded
will crease itself into tiny triangles
and fill a pond like Koi fins.
We will go to Asia, we will be the children
of carpenters and learn to hammer the door
shut on the grass hut of prayer.
When we go to Asia the year is 1950
and the first manniquin will speak.
When we go to Asia we will file
into the sacred room and give up speech,
when we put your mother's heart in the other hand.
This will then be Asia.
about molars and cuspids that fall out.
When we go to Asia I will wear the body
of a tiger and the head of a mountain top.
When we go to Asia you will find your feet
can't define the ground, that dirt is only
what you knew yesterday. When we go to Asia
we will die as elephants and be reborn
as the coarse split haris on a coconut.
When we go to Asia all that is unfolded
will crease itself into tiny triangles
and fill a pond like Koi fins.
We will go to Asia, we will be the children
of carpenters and learn to hammer the door
shut on the grass hut of prayer.
When we go to Asia the year is 1950
and the first manniquin will speak.
When we go to Asia we will file
into the sacred room and give up speech,
when we put your mother's heart in the other hand.
This will then be Asia.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Improv, Week 4
Intrusion
-Denise Levertov
After I cut off my hands
and grown new ones
something my former hands had longed for
came and asked to be rocked.
After my plucked out eyes
had withered, and new ones grown
something my former eyes had wept for
came asking to be pitied.
------------------------------------------------------
After I attacked you in bed
and spun like an alligator
with its prey clenched in jaw,
salty flesh felt between each cuspid,
I trusted you would drown in the sheets.
You didn't. My fingers lost
grip and broke off into the mouth
of yesterday. The skin of yesterday
is dry with sand bumping over its back.
I grit my teeth and try to pluck
each grain to collect and rebuild
the hourglass for tomorrow.
-Denise Levertov
After I cut off my hands
and grown new ones
something my former hands had longed for
came and asked to be rocked.
After my plucked out eyes
had withered, and new ones grown
something my former eyes had wept for
came asking to be pitied.
------------------------------------------------------
After I attacked you in bed
and spun like an alligator
with its prey clenched in jaw,
salty flesh felt between each cuspid,
I trusted you would drown in the sheets.
You didn't. My fingers lost
grip and broke off into the mouth
of yesterday. The skin of yesterday
is dry with sand bumping over its back.
I grit my teeth and try to pluck
each grain to collect and rebuild
the hourglass for tomorrow.
Free Entry, Week 4
Some women marry fetishes.
Martha, for instance, dallies in yellow latex
gloves and feather dusters to keep her husband
coming home. And putting them back
each morning under the kitchen sink
next to the Brillo pads and Lysol, she smiles.
Some days she can’t wait for her husband,
for his red pick-up to roll up the driveway.
Naked, she layers herself in dish rags,
each one pinned to the next and stretches the gloves
up to her elbows to stroll past all her windows
waiting for mowers to start or dogs to be walked.
Her neck cranes at each rumbling motor that sounds
down the street, eager for her husband’s pick-up.
The street lamp clicks on, lightening bugs rise
then fall across the yard. He never shows,
never calls, and Martha unpins herself.
Martha, for instance, dallies in yellow latex
gloves and feather dusters to keep her husband
coming home. And putting them back
each morning under the kitchen sink
next to the Brillo pads and Lysol, she smiles.
Some days she can’t wait for her husband,
for his red pick-up to roll up the driveway.
Naked, she layers herself in dish rags,
each one pinned to the next and stretches the gloves
up to her elbows to stroll past all her windows
waiting for mowers to start or dogs to be walked.
Her neck cranes at each rumbling motor that sounds
down the street, eager for her husband’s pick-up.
The street lamp clicks on, lightening bugs rise
then fall across the yard. He never shows,
never calls, and Martha unpins herself.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Junkyard Quotes 1-4, Week 4
"Please wake up in the morning speaking Slovak."
-Nick McRae
"Since 1995, twenty-four elephants have found sanctuary in Tennessee."
--The Elephant Sanctuary website
"the inventor of clouds"
-Comedy Central
"Let us now raze famous men."
-rumpus.net
-Nick McRae
"Since 1995, twenty-four elephants have found sanctuary in Tennessee."
--The Elephant Sanctuary website
"the inventor of clouds"
-Comedy Central
"Let us now raze famous men."
-rumpus.net
Response to Classmate's Journal, Week 3
Darin,
I find this free write to have a lot of potential for future drafts. If you chose to expand on this particular writing a suggestion that I would like to make that could potentially make the draft stronger is to go through and highlight and/or circle all the abstractions. I do this all the time and sometimes I amaze myself with how much I can let slip by. Like Dr. Davidson said in class though you have to write it all out first and not think too much. In revision we go back and weed out the least strong of all the images. For example, in your draft you have the line: My heart ached. As we talked about in class, think of how many people have said this and how often. We’ve heard it so many times in poetry, prose, and everyday life that we glaze over and cannot compute what the writer tried to convey. It’s hard to convey pain without using the word “pain” sometimes, but what other ways can we think of pain where the images are more concrete. I was also looking over your calisthenics exercise from this past week and was wondering if you could pull any lines from that into your free entry, such as: “I pound at my clay, I pound the air,
Lugging my bucket back to the noisy clearing.” I wonder if you could use this line and images to portray pain or an aching heart. Maybe another way to portray pain or an aching heart would be to think about the actions that somebody would do if they were feeling this way? Just some things to think about.
I find this free write to have a lot of potential for future drafts. If you chose to expand on this particular writing a suggestion that I would like to make that could potentially make the draft stronger is to go through and highlight and/or circle all the abstractions. I do this all the time and sometimes I amaze myself with how much I can let slip by. Like Dr. Davidson said in class though you have to write it all out first and not think too much. In revision we go back and weed out the least strong of all the images. For example, in your draft you have the line: My heart ached. As we talked about in class, think of how many people have said this and how often. We’ve heard it so many times in poetry, prose, and everyday life that we glaze over and cannot compute what the writer tried to convey. It’s hard to convey pain without using the word “pain” sometimes, but what other ways can we think of pain where the images are more concrete. I was also looking over your calisthenics exercise from this past week and was wondering if you could pull any lines from that into your free entry, such as: “I pound at my clay, I pound the air,
Lugging my bucket back to the noisy clearing.” I wonder if you could use this line and images to portray pain or an aching heart. Maybe another way to portray pain or an aching heart would be to think about the actions that somebody would do if they were feeling this way? Just some things to think about.
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