Dreamwriter

Today I realized that despite my intentions at the beginning of the summer to keep writing (since I now have time), I haven't written anything since summer began! The last poem I wrote was in May, and my primary goal to continue writing the book I started for my graduation project, called Dreamwriter, has been forgotten about.

I started writing it after several scrapped attempts at other storylines sometime in October of last year. The idea is a combination of two pieces of inspiration, one from a couple years ago when running through potential story ideas in my head, and one while I was listening to the Air cd Talkie Walkie and let my imagination wander through a series of perfect images during the song "Universal Traveler." These images led to a quickly typed prologue which I decided I would build into my story. The only problem is that I wasn't really sure how to follow up the prologue, so I simply wrote nothing for quite a while. It wasn't until February that I actually began to write again. Sporadic bursts of writing culminated in a 25 page product to show to the judges of my project in early May. Still, just because I finished the project didn't mean I didn't want to finish the story. I will refrain from giving story details here because I'm still not sure if I like Part 1, which could change the outcome of the rest of the story.

Blood and Honey

This poem I wrote and submitted for the April/May anonymous poetry contest at Café Poetica and as the contest just ended, I can now post it here. This one won the contest and my other one written at the same time came in second, but I'll post that one later. Blood and Honey won with a perfect score, as every person who rated it gave it a 5/5. So obviously I'm pretty proud of this one. It's a sonnet, but I combined both the Italian and English forms.

Blood and Honey

The pages strewn across the desk of time
Shall quake before the writer's gilded pen
The likes of which no prior age divined
And nevermore will grace this world again
In infancy, yet born to wield the words
To shatter cities, to turn the tide of wars
To wash the heart with melodies unheard
From poet's pen shall blood and honey pour.
So fragile human hearts and minds do prove
And wind-swept words erased before they're writ
By apathy, incumbent on the throne.
These scattered skeletons shall never move
No blood nor honey shall his pen emit
And soft and gentle melody unknown.

Sunrise

I wrote this poem a little while ago when I stayed over with my friend Jon and we stayed up the entire night watching movies and drinking Mountain Dew. We wanted to watch the sunrise, so when it came, we got our coats and went out in the near-freezing morning (possibly below) and sat on his swings and waited. It was cold but completely worth it. So many thoughts and emotions went through me and they seemed contradictory. So when I wrote this poem the next day I don't really feel like I captured it accurately but I never edited and now I cannot do so. But I think it stands alone fairly well. The poem is obviously about more than just the sunrise itself.

"Sunrise"

Sleeplessly awaiting the dawn
I blink away the temptation
And emerge into the world of in-between
No longer dark, yet cold and dim
Breathlessly anticipating the portrait
Of man's destiny, written in the morning sky.

I do not speak a word, but swing gently
Back and forth to the sound of the sunrise
Complete serenity, restless uncertainty
And the in-between.

Stuck in a world between light and dark
No glorious transition
But a time of neither
And as the sun breaks the horizon
I cannot help but stare.

First Sign of Danger

(This one was moved from my other blog because I was advised that two blogs are kinda pointless. But I figured I'd at least salvage this post.)

The other day I was driving along the highway when I noticed a road sign along the edge of the highway that was obscured by some hanging branches. I don't remember what the sign said, but it started to get me thinking. I wondered why nobody would bother to remove the troublesome branches and make the sign visible again on a busy highway. Surely it would be noticed and it certainly could not have happened suddenly.

The only possible reasons I could think of would be laziness or an inattentiveness to the very basics. A fundamental thing like a road sign can seem trivial but at that moment it underlined and reflected the sick state of the fundamentals of the world. On a larger scale, the basic values of life, the basic codes of conduct for any forum, business, political, or otherwise, and the basic attitudes of society have been obscured. In many pieces of literature, the sickly state of society often is symbolically represented in other forms of disease. So the attitudes which deemed that road sign unimportant seem to label the basics of life unimportant too.

This is probably the first of many observations on society, but I'll just present the metaphor for now and describe its implications later.

Failure

Few things injure pride and confidence worse than failure. Failure has been the story of today. This morning I woke up with every intention of finding a job finally. I have been putting it off for weeks and I knew it would likely be extremely difficult considering I only intend to work for the summer. The fact of the matter is I do not have time to work in the school year because my courses will require far too much work to allow for a job in addition.

So far this summer I have postponed the things I need to do. I have a presentation to give with Julia next Wednesday before the Steubenville Youth Conference and I have barely started collecting my notes for it. I've had big plans for writing this summer, but I've done nothing on that front as well. I haven't yet begun organizing the agendas and membership for the Dead Poet's Society I began (yes, based on the one in the movie) and I haven't begun to read the 8 books for AP English next year. Yes, it's early, and yes I am behind. But I figured I'd get at least the job hunt out of the way today, and maybe some writing, and definitely work on the presentation.

So early this afternoon I drove over to Wegman's to search there, since that's been my first choice all along. The man told me that they were hiring but it would take 3 or 4 weeks for the application to process. Well... that doesn't really fit my schedule too well since I can only work till the end of summer and 3 or 4 weeks from now summer is over halfway done. Plus we've got a vacation in August. So much for that plan. But at least I had backup. I went to the 3 Starbucks in the area (my love of coffee + job in coffee shop? dangerous yet delightful!) to no avail. Each was hiring for the fall. Dejected, I went home. After my guitar lesson (guitar actually is the one thing I *have* been doing so far this summer) I figured I should resume the search. After eating of course. And despite my love for Boston Market, something about it makes me not want to work there. The TGI Fridays across the street confirmed my suspicion that they would not let me work as a waiter because it would require me to serve alcoholic beverages. Once again stalled on the job question, I figured I'd take up the pen again at least. I was very close to the park that I like to go to and think or write sometimes. So I walked the distance to the plateau that overlooked the sprawling vista of the valley below. I'd done well there before with ideas and inspiration, so why not? On the walk to the hill I kept getting some pretty good ideas that I intended to run with. When I reached the top though, nothing came back. Several of the ideas were just gone, and the rest I couldn't get past a line or two. I couldn't remember enough to continue with my book from where I left off a month or two ago, and each poem I tried to write fell to dust fairly quickly. After about a half an hour in this fashion, I gave up. Upon leaving the park I gave Wegman's a second try on a whim, but the 3 or 4 weeks were a constant. Nothing to be done there.

I still have several other ideas for prospective employment, but I wasn't really in the mood tonight. Maybe I'll give them a shot later. For today, nothing really came out the way I planned. Still, probably something I can learn from all this. Usually failure is the best way to learn. Personally I've learned something. Start looking for jobs well in advance of the time you need them.

Snakes and Arrows

I wrote a review for the new Rush cd for my school paper, but it is too long to post here, so you can read it here: http://www.appleunderground.net/~warped/CafePoetica/index.php?showtopic=570

I figure I'll follow that up with some more reviews in the future, so stay tuned. I also have more poetry coming but it's currently anonymously entered in the contest on Café Poetica.

Midnight Moon and The Birth and Death of the Day

Well I figure I should get some of the past stuff out of the way first. I'll do progressively older things interposed with the new material, since I don't write new material all that frequently. These are just a few poems I wrote in February and March.

"Midnight Moon"

Midnight moon, thou lesser sun
Thou cold, unblinking, royal one.
Luminescent, pearly white
Austerely governing the night
Opulence in sunlight's lieu
Coalesces into dew
Calculating patient friend
Waxing foretells waning's end
Neither does thy pale visage
Cast a more complete mirage
Than does thy rule of rising tide
Betray thy shallow empty pride
For Midnight Moon, thou lovest not
And with sun's light, thine own forgot.


"The Birth and Death of the Day" (or "The Firebird")

Gliding forth on the breath of aurora
The morning phoenix bursts into new life
On the horizon of fallen yesterdays
And misplaced tomorrows.

Blazing its glorious pathway
Beating the wings of dawn
And heralding the coming,
The birth of the day
As the shimmering audience of dew
Offers its glistening homage
To the firebird.

Soaring in majesty undimmed
Chariot racing across the sea
Which will never close
Shedding tears to heal the earth.

The radiant bird of flame begins its fateful dive
Embracing the final plunge
Incandescent plumage blurring with the speed
As the phoenix impacts in a fiery cremation
Amidst the ashes of the day.