Saturday, January 31, 2009

Gertrude Stein


Because the Poems for the Millennium anthology devotes a lot of space to her poems, I assume she is incredibly significant. I find Gertrude Stein incredibly annoying, though. As far as I can tell, she effectively deconstructs language, stripping all the words of their meaning through mindless repetition and jarring shifts that shatter all of our usual associations with the words. In this, she successfully robs English of any beauty it may dare to have, and she makes me hate my own language, and if I read her for too long, my head might explode. Was the point, then, to provoke a strong reaction rather than to write anything good or beautiful? Did she intend to write poetry that is horrible and annoying to read?

The commentary is unconvincing, and its use of ampersands is irksome, so I just want someone to tell me what reasons there are (if any) to truly appreciate what Stein has written.

Reading for Week 5-Feb 11

Although you have no new reading for this week, Week 4 (Feb 4), I'm giving you a heads-up to get started on Week 5's readings, listed below. Please respond to the readings here before class on Feb 11.

Joseph Conte, intro to Unending Design (on reserve in McFarlin)--look at chapters on Oppen and Duncan
Caleb Puckett, Tales from the Hinterland (he is visiting class Feb 11)
Oppen, Of Being Numerous (online soon)
Roethke, North American Sequence (online soon)

Get started on the Conte and Puckett, and I will post the other readings soon.

Friday, January 30, 2009

give blood!

This ain't poetry but since a fair amount of this blog's readership is probably on campus...I thought I'd give the Red Cross a shout-out. Go give blood in the fishbowl in Towers if you're able. Blood supplies are really, really low because of the ice storm and they'll be really thankful if you donate.

Drive goes until 6 pm tonight (Friday).

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Etude 3

write a poem of any kind. it doesnt even specifically need to be poetic. you could take a paragraph of something if you wanted. take each line separately and translate them into another language using Babelfish below or any online translator. then take the line that was given to you in the foreign language, and using the same translator, translate it back into english, and using those phrases, reform your poem.



Wednesday, January 28, 2009

generations of generations

nailfileS DIE LIKE bold galS.
THE cabinet DIES LIKE A bold fork.
incest, anger, AND incest.
THE swallow thinkS LIKE A moldy bowl.
WHY DOES THE leg tumble?


eat a dick, desire!
lust, hatred, AND desire.
ALL wimminS take DEAD, moldy cabinetS.
NEVER toke A wimmin.


swallowS think LIKE cold ladyS.
DAMN, heat!
eat a dick, desire!


SHARKS walk!
yeasty, SUNNY ladyS blankly slap A DEAD, stoled imprint.
hatred IS A damp bitch.
courage IS A cold tongue.


ladyS think LIKE stolid tokeS.
WHERE IS THE LIVELY WHALE?
THE shower curtain thinkS LIKE A DEAD SHARK.
lust, incest, AND incest.
THE amazon walkS LIKE A moldy shower curtain.

idea IS A OLD shower curtain.
LIVELY, LIVELY legS later toke A yeasty, wet gal.
NEVER fuck A imprint.
ALL wadS drag SUNNY, OLD boxS.
O, idea!

White Moments

The white moments,
blank moments,
between one thing and the next.
He's left with only himself,
discovering
the whispers drowned
by static chatter,
too much color.
They find a full voice
in the bleached landscape
infinitive space-time, sterile
liquid white-out
running down his forehead,
into his eyes,
creeping near the tear ducts
and the corneas.

Kill the static.
Kill the static.
So that you can hear us
all the time.
So many things to tell
with silence.
So many things to see
if you only close your eyes.
Feed the White.
Feed the White.
Come home,
come in,
let us in.

Blinking, reeling, sputtering
on the outside, quiet,
coming to himself
from a far distance,
an immeasurable distance.
She asks if he's ok,
face pale,
color draining.
Oh, no, no, no.
She keeps draining,
swirls like water down a sink,
nothing there.
“Stay here with me,”
he says,
but she fades,
a washed image.
He feels a prick,
grabs the back of his neck,
turns to see
the fanged whiteness smiling.

This was the one I wanted to share during class, but was too chicken. Wrote it a few days ago.

-Strix

Class Collective Six Word Memoirs

The ENGL 4863 class wrote the following six-word memoirs by each starting with a single sheet of paper, writing one word and passing it to the right.  The second person wrote the second word, and the thrid, the third, etc.  We did this for three rounds, switching directions on the second wave.  On the third round, we each wrote two words at a time.  "Memoir" was loosely defined before the exercise as writing of a life, or autobiography, with poetic license. 

ROUND 1:

a.
Quick! Run crazily down halways, clap.

b.
Becoming

gladder hasten the

END now

c.
Just because

you
NEVER

got

any

d. 
Stinks
to attack

frogs-and-snails

mouth first.

e.
Bubbles, crisp fall cereal unrecalled perogative.

f.
aligned quietly in school with
freaks.

g.

Moved away
      jolly needs
leap into

h.
Storms castles
wrote
meaningless
words
silently.

ROUND 2:

a.
Blasted blasters blasting bloated bleating banned.

b.
smack     me       in   secret
but
cry

c.
Waited forever for
MYSTERIES

spyglass
resolve

d.
Bibliophiles run swiftly
William-Caxton diagrees
effervescentsavingfollyguile

e.
Humming quickly beside mine own skull.

f.
When in underclothes run wildly, friend.

g.
Kittens!
eating
mice
always
tasty horror.

h.
leaves
glitter toothpaste
after
noon     always

ROUND 3:

a. 
fall faster into your own filth.

b.
Coming down

found ballon
laughing softly

c.
Bound by moral imperatives without law

d.
Honestly, if
you knew
you'd act

e.
The night crept up goddamn fast.

f.
stable shut inside the butterlies heart

g.
Told twice booze ain't gonna do.

h.
Firefiles drowning in every asterbloom array


Results of Our Futurist Pantoum

1.

If language were crumpled into a ball, then knowledge would surpass imagination.

When the room is empty, it will be one.

When the arrow pierces, I will become that which no word has come before.

If I could see myself as someone else, then the women of Troy would sob and beat their breasts.

If the sky fell, then you would not ask.

When the Lord comes down like fire, trash will be wholesome.

If we could follow directions, then everything would be forgotten

If this day were rewound, then all the windows would shatter into green and crimson.

When sorrow overtakes happiness, I will pass judgement.

If I come to a pause, then we would hate each other.

If it were wrong to lie, then the fractalization of the function would be incomplete.

 

2.

If I could see myself as someone else, then the fractalization of the function would be incomplete.

If I come to a pause, then everything would be forgotten

When the room is empty, I will pass judgement.

If this day were rewound, then we would hate each other.

When the Lord comes down like fire, I will become that which no word has come before.

If it were wrong to lie, then knowledge would surpass imagination.

If we could follow directions, then you would not ask.

If the sky fell, then all the windows would shatter into green and crimson.

When sorrow overtakes happiness, it will be one.

When the arrow pierces, trash will be wholesome.

If language were crumpled into a ball, then the women of Troy would sob and beat their breasts.

 

3.

When the arrow pierces, knowledge will surpass imagination.

When I can see myself as someone else, I will pass judgement.

If it were wrong to lie, then everything would be forgotten.

If the sky fell, then the fractalization of the function would be incomplete.

When the Lord comes down like fire, then all the windows will shatter into green and crimson.

When the room is empty, then we will hate each other.

If I came to a pause, then you would not ask.

If we could follow directions, then the women of Troy would sob and beat their breasts.

If this day were rewound, trash would be wholesome.

When sorrow overtakes happiness, it will be one.

If language were crumpled into a ball, I would become that which no word has come before.

 

4.

If sorrow overtook happiness, trash would be wholesome

When the sky falls, we will hate each other

When the room is empty, I will pass judgment

When the Lord comes down like fire, everything will be forgotten

If I came to a pause, I would become that which no word has come before

When it is wrong to lie, you will not ask

If the arrow pierces, it will be one

If this day were rewound, the women of Troy would sob and beat their breasts

When I can see myself as someone else, knowledge will surpass imagination

If we could follow directions, then the fractalization of the function would be incomplete

When language is crumpled into a ball, all the windows will shatter into green and crimson

 

5.

If it were wrong to lie, then we would hate each other.

If I come to a pause, then the women of Troy would sob and beat their breasts.

When the room is empty, then the fractalization of the function would be incomplete.

If the sky fell, then knowledge would surpass imagination.

When the arrow pierces, you would not ask.

If I could see myself as someone else, then all the windows would shatter into green and crimson.

When sorrow overtakes happiness, trash will be wholesome.

If language were crumpled into a ball, it will be one.

When the Lord comes down like fire, I will pass judgement.

If this day were rewound, then everything would be forgotten.

If we could follow directions, then all the windows would shatter into green and crimson.

 

6.

If the arrow pierces, all the windows will shatter into green and crimson.

If this day were rewound, trash would be wholesome.

When the sky falls, knowledge will surpass imagination.

When the room is empty, everything will be forgotten.

When the Lord comes down like fire, I will pass judgment.

If I came to a pause, the women of Troy would sob and beat their breasts.

When it is wrong to lie, you will not ask.

When I can see myself as someone else, we will hate each other.

If we could follow directions, then the fractalization of the function would be incomplete

When language is crumpled into a ball, I will become that which no word has come before.

If sorrow overtook happiness, it would be one.

 

7.

If language were crumpled into a ball, then the fractalization of the function would be incomplete.

When the room is empty, I will become that which no word has come before.

If this day were rewound, then knowledge would surpass imagination.

When the Lord comes down like fire, I will pass judgement.

If it were wrong to lie, then you would not ask.

If we could follow directions, then we would hate each other

If the sky fell, then everything would be forgotten.

When sorrow overtakes happiness, trash will be wholesome.

If I come to a pause, then the women of Troy would sob and beat their breasts.

If I could see myself as someone else, then all the windows would shatter into green and crimson.

When the arrow pierces, it will be one.

 

8.

If we could follow directions, trash would be wholesome

If sorrow overtook happiness, knowledge would surpass imagination

When the sky falls, the women of Troy will sob and beat their breasts

When I can see myself as someone else, I will pass judgment

If this day were rewound, all the windows would shatter into green and crimson

When the room is empty, we will hate each other

If I came to a pause, then the fractalization of the function would be incomplete

When it is wrong to lie, I will become that which no word has become before

If the arrow pierces, it will be one

When language is crumpled into a ball, everything will be forgotten

When the Lord comes down like fire, you will not ask

 

9.

If imagination surpass would knowledge then a ball into crumpled were language if one be will it when empty room the before come has word no which that become will I pierces the arrow when breasts their beat and sob would Troy of women the then else someone as myself see could I if ask not would you then fell sky the if wholesome be will trash fire like down comes Lord the when crimson and green into shatter would windows the all then, rewound were day this if forgotten be would everything then judgment pass will I happiness overtakes sorrow when Other each hate would we then pause a to come I if incomplete be would function the of fractalization the then lie to wrong were it.

The Importance of Poetry

Found this fun little video while web surfing. I've been thinking on the significance of poetry and the "big picture" lately.



Afterwards I laughed at myself and got a little depressed.

TGFID

Thank god for ice days. Now I can sit around thinking more about the poetic values I'm not sure I have.

Question for everyone else--if you read this: How are you embarking on your portfolio work? Have you started yet? Are you just jumping in and trying to write anything beyond our etudes, or are you making a concerted effort at some exact goal? Just wondering. Besides not being sure of my own poetics, I'm still not certain what I hope to accomplish in terms of creative output this semester.

Enjoy your R&R.

dz

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Readings for Week 3

For those who were not in class at the Collective Cafe on Wed, Jan 21, I've made copies of the Heidegger's "Origin of the Work of Art" and a selection of experimental poems from the past 150 years available in the English Department office, Zink 365.  Please do not take one if you already have one!

PS: We agreed that we will continue to meet at the Collective for class. 

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Statement of Poetic Values and Goals Due Jan 28

Please email me a statement of the values (concepts, ideas, ideologies, beliefs) that motivate your poetry.  In enumerating them, you can talk about your influences, aesthetic/formal preferences, and methods.  In stating your goals, please include what you'd like to accomplish this semester as well as your larger goals as a poet/writer.  There is no page minimum or maximum on this assignment, and I encourage you to be creative in your approach..

Etude 2-Futurist Pantoum

Using the when/if clauses and the conditional/future clauses that we wrote in class today, we are going to write a very long, futurist version of the traditional pantoum (Renata pointed out my error in the form's name).  The phrases you wrote are all collected in the first comment to this post.  

The first person to post a comment should do the following:
  1. First, click "Comments" below and then cut-and-paste the clauses into a new document.
  2. Now match each if-clause with a clause in future tense (will) or a when-clause with a clause in the conditional (would)
  3. Choose 11 of the best lines and post them as a comment to this post.
Everyone after should take the same 11 lines, but remix 
  1. the combination of if/when clauses with conditional/future clauses (yes, you may change the adverb and or the tense of the clauses)
  2. the order of the lines (make sure your order of lines is unlike any of the ones before yours)
If all goes well, we should have a poem with 11 sections of 11 lines each.

etude 1

I used vocabulary from Deleuze & Guattari's Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, which is obnoxious and also explains why it sounds like weird French Marxist philosophy. I combined it with plant and eating words.

etude_p01

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Info for Caleb Puckett

Please click on the link to order Caleb Puckett's Tales from the Hinterland. It's not available on Small Press Distribution.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Responses to Week 2 Readings


Use the "Comments" link below to post a response to this week's reading.

Question to consider:  In what ways does Melnick's Pcoet enact what Levinas (left) is talking about in his essay, "Servant and Her Master"?  Does the poem offer an exit out of philosophy or criticism or interpretation or communication, a discourse that "speaks without a stop"?  How or how not?

Post your answer to that question or some other response here before class.  You might considering responding to a peer's posting.

Syllabus Correction (already)

I've decided to add Emmanuel Levinas's essay, "Servant and Her Master" (think: Poetry and Philosophy), to next week's reading (sorry, Russ).  Please click on the link above to access the document, if you haven't already from my email. 

Etude 1

Brainstorm for at least 15 minutes on the following questions: what are some of your favorite vocabularies?  Where do words you like come from?  What are some of your favorite subjects?  Ones you hate?

Next, make a poem out of your brainstorming using the vocabulary from one or more of the contexts that you mentioned in your brainstorming.  The more different or dissonant the vocabulary from the topic of your poem, the better.  Gather samples of texts from that context to use as resources if necessary.

Post your response by clicking the "Comment" link below.  Hint: If you want the post to look like it does on the page, upload it as a bitmap image file not to the comments but as new blog post.


Welcome to our class blog!

As promised, here is the blog for our course, which will serve as a repository for our syllabus, reserve readings, photos, and other class documents.  This site is also where you will post your weekly responses to readings using the Comment feature on the assignment post, which I will put up weekly.

As class members, I have give you access to this blog so that you too can post posts, links, photos, documents, or anything else you'd like (perhaps poetry?).  I hope that you do choose to share some of your writing here with the rest of the class.  I encourage you to use this site in any way that you see fit.