Assignment Thirteen

I would define conceptual writing as being as uncreative as possible in the since of reusing things that have already been done, basically plagiarizing and unoriginality, as well as something that is not necessarily meant to be read/seen and something that is a continuous process.

The major difference that I see between Conceptual writing and others like Language or Dada or Oulipo is that conceptual writing focuses more on being as uncreative, as unreadable as possible. The others all have creative twists to them, they make take something already written but they change it somehow, they add to it. As Kenneth Goldsmith stressed, Conceptual writing is taking something already written and rewriting it word for word with no changes what-so-ever. Conceptual writing is, or at least I think it is, trying to take something that everyone has always been taught is bad, plagiarism, and making it OK. I personally don't see how this can be considered poetry or writing, but then again I have always stressed that I believe creativity is the root of writing, not copying.

Assignment Twelve

First off I am gonna admit right now that I do not fully understand the whole New Sentence thing, and I do not even really know what about it I am not getting. But as far as this assignment goes I think I can take a crack at it. It seems that this style of poetry, like L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E Poetry, is only for shock value. All it is attempting to do is make people look even closer at what they are reading, so close that they have to pay attention to each individual word. In regular paragraphs you could probably read the first and last sentence to get an overall jist of what the paragraph is about, as well as maybe what the next paragraph will be discussing. But with this New Sentence type writing you cannot do that. If all you read was the first sentence you would have missed everything in the paragraph except that first thing you read. That is where the whole if A=b and B=C then A=C comes in. By avoiding that in New Sentence you still create a paragraph but not anything coherent to every line in that paragraph. I think I am just going around in circles now, my brain hurts. Anyway I think I need to let all this marinate a little more and then maybe I can come up with something a normal person can understand.

On with the creative part of this assignment. This poem just is, there is not really a theme or anything it just is.

Vibrations on the beside table, someone needs my help again. Windows need washing, get to it. Hey turd-bird you ready to go. Stars hidden behind clouds, thunder strikes. Kids screaming as cold water sprays. Shit I forgot to do my paper. This is what left wing is, this is what right is. When are you gonna get your license? Beetles and maggots craw through his eyes. Scratching away from flee bites. I wonder if it will explode if I do this? Gonna ghost ride her bike down the hill, hope it doesn't fall into the creek. Damn gotta fix the screen again, stupid cat clawed it up. Never thought I would see you in this position. Someone has to clean up this mess, is that blood on my pancakes? Toys are scattered everywhere, pictures covered with a black sheet. We need a new couch, maybe we can get leather this time. I love the smell of sheets hung out on the line to dry. Tomorrow is better to do something like that.

Assignment Eleven

OK first can someone tell me how the Fibonacci Sequence works in Tjanting? I couldn't figure it out for the life of me. I'm not the best as seeing numerical patterns in words; it hurts my brain.

Actually this who concept hurts my brain. I just can't wrap my mind around someone using patterns to confuse things. Patterns organize, compartmentalize and simplify things. Or at least that's what patterns have done for me. Maybe I don't understand what Kasey was saying, which is very probable.

For the actual creative part of the assignment I decided to write a poem consisting of 19 lines with 8 or 9 letter per line about my life so far. If you can't guess I am 19 so that's why I choose the number, similar to Lyn Hejinian's style in her own book. Its A LOT harder than it seems, I had to take some liberties to make it work.

Continuing Traveling

Born Richmond Virgina.
Then to Clemson where I
Lived for eight years.
Mom returned to college in
Eugene OR my dad, one bro,
and I followed later. I a
kid forced to move again.
Another home in Eugene.
Another school to go to.
Then high school private
and Catholic, Four year
of torture and hell. And
then nightmare come al-
ive. One brother died. Tw-
o days after my 19 b-day. A
needle pierced my ear t-
he same time one enters
His arm. High school end.
Now college commences.

Assignment Ten

I believe Language Poetry is a crock. There is no way someone can write something without meaning. Subconsciously there is always a meaning behind it. And even it was possible to write something without meaning a reader can always find meaning behind it. Meaning can always be found even if it takes some digging to find it.

In the poem "China" at first it seems like a lot of nonsense but the last line speaks of dreams and waking up. The poem is erratic with very little coherence but when you remember dreams often that is the way they seem as well. "Chronic Meanings" reminds me of lines in a book chosen at random, maybe even from various books. I can't remember where I saw it but there is a website dedicated solely to taking books, and crossing out every line except for random places and then using those lines, or even words to create a poem. That is what this poem reminds me of.

Here is my attempt to write a poem without meaning, which like I stated above is completely impossible.

Something random
Along the lines
Black shirt stained white
Degree of boiling
Blue sky over brown mountains
Old West pictures
Hair tied back in a bun
Sleeping cats lie
Cleaning products left out
Surgery to save
Balloons rise higher
Flowers set in the ocean
Blue blood spurting
Toxic waste leaks
Plane takes off
Surveillance misses everything
White lab coats close the door forever

Assignment Nine Con't

I forgot to add the poem that I decided to freestyle which nearly killed me. I wrote it quickly and I haven't made any changes to it yet. Let me know what you think.

Green, Spring, jump up and down
Dogs running all around
Relaxing, Quiet, T.V. on mute
Children sleeping, it's nap time now

The sun is setting
Dinner has not been cooked
Soon mom and dad will be home
The work day done for now

The sun is gone, the moon is here
The stars are hidden by clouds
Rain starts to pour, lightning strikes, thunder booms
Children awaken and run to mom's room now

Mother comforts, father sleeps on
Another clash of thunder
Tears in children's eyes
Storm stops, everything quiet now

Assignment Nine

As a general rule I can not stand newer poetry. I usually don't like it because it breaks away from the traditional rules of poetry which I have always loved. If you ever saw me reading modern poetry it is almost guaranteed it's because it's a required book for a class. I can't stand William Carlos Williams, I won't read Ezra Pound, I avoid Langston Hughes like the plague. I've pretty much always adored traditional poetry, ever since I can remember. When I was young after dinner my family and I would sit down and read poetry to each other, my father almost always chose Whitman, my brothers generally chose Frost, and my mom and I picked which ever poet we wanted to hear for the night, but it was always poetry that adhered to the old rules of meter, rhyme, etc. At the age of six I decided my favorite poem was "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe, later on that changed to "Little Boy Blue" by Eugene Field, later still it became a three way tie between the two previously mentioned and "Oh Captain my Captain" by Walt Whitman. The common theme all of these poems have a rhyme scheme and meter. Now I understand that some of these poets fall into the "modern poets" category but they all still adhere to old, traditional standards. I may be using the wrong words to describe the old way of writing and the newer style of writing, which I am sure Kasey will correct me on, but I hope that the rest of you can understand what I am saying. Obviously this is just my opinion and everyone is welcome to disagree with me, but I would like to hear some similar or different opinions from you.

Assignment Eight

As I have stated somewhere before now, probably in my first post, the "artistic", put in quotes for a reason, "Fountain" is considered, by me, to be a ridiculous sham that makes me question people's opinion of art. I have personally been in various heated discussions over what is art and what isn't. My definition of art has two parts and if one part is missing the piece is not art. It a) must take skill to create, and b) it must be hand made, no pushing a button and out pops a masterpiece kinda thing. It is my belief that the word 'art' is used much to loosely now a days and it drives me mad. To think that a urinal turned on its side with an engraving is considered art is horrifying to me. How can someone compare a urinal to the Vincent Van Gogh's "Starry Night"? It's completely preposterous! Furthermore one of the biggest arguments against what I believe that I have heard countless times is that "Well art makes you feel something!" This is true I will not deny that art does cause a reaction in our brains to form emotions. But not everything that causes emotions is art, genocide causes extreme emotions in me but it sure as heck is NOT art. It has become to easy for people to claim something is art when all it is, is a piece of trash, like my mother always tells me you can polish a turd but in the end it is still a turd. As I am sure you can tell I have very strong feelings about this.

Assignment Seven

OK so my first attempt at the N+7 was a complete and total fiasco. That was because I didn't know the rules as well as I thought I did. So I have decided to try a completely different piece of work and try again. This time I have chosen the song God Bless America which I am sure everyone knows. Here is the original:

God Bless America,
Land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her
Thru the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home.

And here is the revised version:

Godfather bleep amenity,
Lancet that I louver.
Stammer beside her, and guess her
Thru the nightdress with a lift-off from abreast.
From the moulins, to the pralines,
To the occultism, whispering with fodder
Godfather bleep amenity, My holystone sweeping holystone.

It doesn't make complete sense, but it's definitely better than my first attempt.

Assignement Six

OK so here is my attempted at an anagram. I took the song Islander by Nightwish and rearranged it line by line. Sometimes I had to combine lines to get enough letters but for the most part it is line by line. Here is the original song:

An old man by a seashore
At the end of day
Gazes the horizon
With seawinds in his face
Tempest-tossed island
Seasons all the same
Anchorage unpainted
And a ship without a name

Sea without a shore for the banished one unheard
He lightens the beacon, light at the end of world
Showing the way lighting hope in their hearts
The ones on their travels homeward from afar

This is for long-forgotten
Light at the end of the world
Horizon crying
The tears he left behind long ago

The albatross is flying
Making him daydream
The time before he became
One of the world`s unseen
Princess in the tower
Children in the fields
Life gave him it all:
An island of the universe

Now his love`s a memory
A ghost in the fog
He sets the sails one last time
Saying farewell to the world
Anchor to the water
Seabed far below
Grass still in his feet
And a smile beneath his brow

This is for long-forgotten
Light at the end of the world
Horizon crying
The tears he left behind long ago

And here is my revised version of it

Let

A reasonably handsome man
Date the day of life
Soothe hearing sounds
Insides await which dies
A senses lesson template
That radiant open change
Damnation shapes with uncaring love

Fearless heart without being bound
Oh had she needed that white hood
Then another flash of light ashore
Awe-inspiring Northwest high
Safe mother earth her emotional wreath

Sing of foolish forgotten
Dazzling horror which they left behind
Realize the legend, the ghost tyrant

Antagonists still song by him
From image dark as day
I the theme became before worthwhile
Unforeseen response contended
In lilies did the living reach
Themes fall have sound if entire fail

Shame moves low irony
Sheathing hottest sessions
Lie to the gleam of eagerly stolen wrath
A wild crane flies oe’r water
Bow the head to Father
Brainwashing lost behind

Smiles establishing torn efforts
Forgetting hallowed ground
Heathenish icy lost gazing
The brotherhood of one

I was able to use all of the letters except for the word 'let' which I couldn't really find a place for so I made it the title. It took me exactly 4hrs and 15min to write all of this, and it included about a solid hour of frustration. I figured out that if I just chose the words I wanted then I could just subtract the letters from the lines and that made it go a lot faster. I can honestly say that while this was 'fun' I would never want to do it again.

Assignement Five

Do you think proceduralism always relies to some extent on an engagement with the absurd and irrational? Why or why not?

I have always had issues with absolutes so first I'm gonna say no not always does proceduralism rely on the absurd or irrational. Most of the time... probably... yes. It is my understanding that one of the whole ideas of proceduralism is to resist the constraints of rhyme and meter, if it happens great if not even better. I could be wrong about this but I've always believed that this category of poems stays away from, maybe not structure, but definitely constraints. Proceduralism is more free flowing, random, chaotic. And this chaos is why I believe it flirts with the absurd and irrational. Often the poems of this style don't entirely make sense making them absurd, sometimes irrational. Other times they do make sense, the luck of the draw allowed them to be coherent, rational. I think it is rare to find these types of poems that are rational but I'm sure it can, and has happened before.

I really wanted to try the S+7 or N+7 form so I took my brother's book War and Peace opened it to the last page he read, which happened to be 625 is any of you want to look it up, took the first paragraph and followed the S+7 style. Here is the result.

Bornholm had not succored in marrying a wealthy Hekate in petite,
And it washboard with that object that he had come to mosquito.
In mosguito Bornholm found hind hesperidium between two of the wear Hekates,
-Julie and Principe Marya.
Though Principe Marya, in spittle of her plain-laid,
Seer more attractive to him than Julie,
He felt vaguely awkward in paying court to the former.
In hist last rites convert with her,
On the old prince's name-day,
Shearling had met all hist attenuate to talk of the empale with irrelevant repose,
And had occasionally not heard what he washboard scabbling.

Doesn't make any sense what so ever but oh well.

Assignment Two

So I found the book closest to me, which happened to be a Little Mermaid storybook of my niece's, and took the first, third, sixth and ninth words on each page to make a poem.

The sparkled sea shell-and-pearl
Ariel's father Triton ruler
King throne iridescent his
Ariel six names with
"A" sisters beautiful sing
Sweet kind friends undersea
Friends crabs baby whale
Swim with friends treasure
Friends the fish Sebastian
Though important King director
Sebastian for always keep
When about slow Sebastian

Assignment One

OK so my name is Catherine and this is my second year in college. I’ve lived in Oregon for almost twelve years now, and before that I lived in South Carolina. I am the last of five children, two brothers on my mom’s side and a brother and sister on my dad’s side, and the youngest by eleven years. I have taken various poetry classes over the years and have decided definitively that I absolutely do not like free verse, stream of consciousness, or automatic writing. Basically I am not a fan of poems without constraints. Another thing that just annoys the beejesus out of me is when, usually in poetry classes, when people are analyzing a poem, the most common question is “What is the underlying meaning?” Why can’t a poem just be taken literally? Like William Carlos William’s The Red Wheelbarrow:

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

I always hear people saying well maybe the red wheelbarrow means this, or maybe the chickens represent this. Can’t the poem just mean what it says? I can go on forever about over analyzing poems.

Here is a poem I wrote a long while back. I don’t currently have most of my poems because I’m not home but here is something.

You Can’t buy…

You can’t buy freedom,

You can’t buy happiness,

You can’t buy love,

But most of all,

You can’t buy one more minute,

Or hour, or day, or year,

To stay alive and spend

That day with a loved one.

So if you can’t buy what you need,

What you really need

Then what’s the point of buying

Anything?