Ignorance is Bliss

A bed to my left

And on the first

And second floor-

Every one is empty,

Except mine.

Could someone help

Get this metal from my wrist?

A tag of enlightenment

I never asked for.

Could someone help

To turn the god awful

Steady beat that’s

Teasing my ears?

I never thought you’d

Disappear from my life

I never thought I’d

Be alone again.

I can help myself -

You won’t have to

Pull the plug.

Embrace by Billy Collins

You know the parlor trick.
wrap your arms around your own body
and from the back it looks like
someone is embracing you
her hands grasping your shirt
her fingernails teasing your neck
from the front it is another story
you never looked so alone
your crossed elbows and screwy grin
you could be waiting for a tailor
to fit you with a straight jacket
one that would hold you really tight.

The voice within the poem is one of someone who feels naive and unworldly. She is forced to hold herself because there is no one else there - she has hit bottom, and although she tries to show others she is okay, she needs help, and not just any kind, but professional. "To fit you with a straight jacket, one that would hold you really tight." - the jacket would be the only thing to hold her as tightly as she needs. "You know the parlor trick" - everything she does is for show, so no one can see how she is really feeling. She wants to hide it from everyone, but is having trouble, "you never looked so alone" and everyone can see it, "from the front it is another story"

The Swell Season - High Horses

There's a light inside us all
It only shines as bright as we are
And you've fallen down so low
I'm really worried for you
I'm really worried

And even on our worst days
we were never quite like this
No
We've gone as far as we can go without crashing
No
At the heart of every fool is the hope you're stupid too
And there's this lingering
This lingering feeling that I'm missing something
I feel like I'm missing something

And even at your worst babe
You were never as bad as this
You've gone as far as you can go without dying

I chose this song because of the ambiguity of it, and how I can relate to it, and I feel that many can, or have been able to at one time in their life. It reminds me of my own writing, and I see it as inspiration. It's the scared truth and the feeling no one likes to feel, but it's honesty.

Performance Q&A

Concentrate -

Stay still, keep silent.

Hold your breath -

And slowly release.

Concentrate -

You'll be just fine.

Don't let yourself be defeated,

Don't let yourself be consumed.

You're better than this.

Don't shake,

Don't dare let him see you tremble -

You are no weak.

Take cover -

He's a threat, an enemy.

This has become a battle,

A war.

This fire is approaching.

You can feel it now,

It's slowly rising -

From your toes to your knees,

It's quickly approaching with poor warning.

It hits your heart - grabs and tears.

Your throat begins to swell,

There is no air left.

You're defenseless now -

You're showing off your vulnerability as your chin begins to dimple.

It hits your freckled nose,

Triggering it to flare.

It creeps slowly to prolong the agony -

How sweet.

Next comes the stinging,

Followed by blurred vision.

As each drop falls, you're consumed.

Drip by drip, he wins.

1) What voice is apparent within your poem? Please describe in detail.

Fear is apparent within my poem – a fear for being found out, and a fear for letting someone get the entire best of you. It’s the gut feeling every one is fearful to have, but it’s inevitable.

2) What type of mood will you try to express when performing your poem in front of the class?

I’ll try to express it in a completely honest mood – letting the apparent emotion of the poem flow. I want the audience to be able to connect and feel the emotion - dramatic.

3) What types of gestures, nonverbals, and or movement will you be incorporating into your performance?

Hand gestures, eye contact, facial expressions

4) What frightens you about this assignment? What seems exciting about this assignment?

I’m terrified to let the poem get to me in front of the class, but I would love for it to get to me.

5) How does performance poetry enhance the meaning of a poem? Be specific.

It allows the poem to be opened up and expressed how it was truly written. Through performance, performers are able to use nonverbal to really connect with the watchers and listeners.

Neener Land

And I know
This is just another thing
That will be about you.
And I know
Every line will show my hate
And I swear to god its hate.
Hate that I love your skin
And your second hand smoke
Hate the way your hair curls
And the length of your eyelashes
Hate that you’re mean to me
And your tired eyes
Hate that you act nice
And that you’ve never called me pretty
Hate that you use me
And the way you say my name
Hate that you found me
And the distance to safety
Hate that you don’t think about me
And the way I’ll never be able to paint you out.

Sestina.

Nothing more than a window was known as my home,

Where sweet melodies were sung by a pretty bird,

And the deep hole in the yard was a fake blue pool.

I always loved waiting for the mail,

But I hid because I just didn't have the will,

And I knew you just didn't have the time.

But I could always find enough time

To find a path that still leads to your home.

And I know you don't care, or even have the will

To just listen and hear that singsong bird.

I know you can see me waiting for the mail,

But you just pretend to fall into the fake blue pool.

I wish I knew what brings you to the pool.

I wish you actually knew what I do with my time.

I wish I still didn't wait for the mail.

I wish I didn't know the way to your home.

I wish I could only hear that bird.

I wish I wasn't a coward and just had the will.

I don't even know where to search for the will

To jump into the strange, fake blue pool,

Or where to hear that same song, sung by the bird.

Instead, I dream of spending all of my useless time,

Walking through the air to finally find my home.

I've taken the day off - there is no mail.

Isn't it funny though that there will never be mail?

It must be obvious I just haven't found the will

To open my eyes and find I may have found home.

But how on earth will you find the time!

Watch out, I may push you into the fake blue pool

If you can't hear that melody such by the bird.

Did you hear what has happened to the poor bird?

She died walking through the air to fetch the mail.

There was a delivery that was right on time,

And somehow she had finally found the will,

To just dive into the fake blue pool,

Where she would have finally felt home.

There's a funeral for the bird, if you find the will.

Disregard her mail, and cover the pool,

Now is your time to destroy a new home.

Fool. Fools.

“You need a hero – a cure.”
A hero?
Well, I’m sorry, but I do not have one – all my heroes have died.
I’m sorry, but there is no cure to my foolishness.

Why must these voice echo?
Is it karma? But how could it be –
You were the one to hold me under.

But you believed it was okay, everything is under control –
How could you do this?
It’s sickening to watch while you make yourself sick.

But this story will live on,
I’ll continue to speak to open ears of what was and what may always be.
Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll tell it from end to beginning –
Everyone wants a happy ending.

Your Observation: Katie's Ring

Childhood memories now stored in bright stone,
Moments of butterfly kisses, campfires, and tag.
Bedtime stories and lullabies,
Crands and fingerpaint -
All carefully placed and presented on your silver plater,
Just wanting to be noticed once more.

My Observation

Will you notice?

Mile after mile, I second guess it all.

I picked up the glass and put the dishes in the sink.

Every mile is settling between us - just another barrier.

I put our pictures face down and collected my clothes from the floor.

I noticed.

I saw everything -

65 freckles on your shoulders

12 on your face.

I made sure the door was shut all the way.

In case you wake -

I left the hallway light on.

I don't know if you'll notice at all.

Apology

Introduction:

I'll start with a warning to the cliche motivations I may say in my final letter to you.

Dear summer,

The sun didn't shine much, but I really didn't mind.

The rain rarely came to an end, but I enjoyed it.

My time was usually spent inside, I hated it.

10 to 7 was religious - I am agnostic.

I found new habits, gave up on old ones.

I realized my dog will always love me - even more than he will ever love himself.

I jumped off bridges in search of true friends.

I spent hours in parking lots observing the world pass by.

I stumbled my way to the hospital on occasion.

I stared at the beauty of the gray and white paint.

I ran fast, I ran far. I ran with her - she carried me on her back.

I was slapped in the face by reality.

These months were nothing but time wasted away,

Until you came into town.

It didn't take long - it seemed like no time at all -

My world had stopped.

You were the sky - purple, orange, and blue.

You were the bird - impossible to catch.

You were the painting - oblivious for hours.

I wanted to be apart of you - apart of your symphony.

Blame it on the wind - I'm sorry I got carried away.

Sincerely,

Unrequited Love

I Am

I am a woman.
I am a misguided woman.
I am a wild woman.
I am a tough woman.
I am a scattered woman.
I am a focused woman.
I am a flying woman.
I am a free woman.
I am a curious woman.
I am a gypsy woman.
I am a red-lipstick woman.
I am a desperate woman.
I am a needy woman.
I am a mysterious woman.
I am a clever woman.
I am a sassy woman.
I am an animal-loving woman.
I am a sensual woman.
I am a swimming woman.
I am a bird woman.
I am a captured woman.
I am a poor woman.
I am a lying woman.
I am a redheaded woman.
I am a black-shoes woman.
I am a proud woman.
I am a shy woman.
I am a freckled woman.
I am a glass woman.
I am an oblivious woman.
I am an opinionated woman.
I am a woman.

Had

Let me tell you something:

In this littered world -

If you are beautiful, you will be used.

You will be found,

You will be wanted,

You will be had,

You will be forgotten.

No one looks twice at trash as it decomposes into dirt.

There wasn't a breeze, I was shaking from fear of the truth.

I'm sorry if I woke you.

Every way I turn, I catch your scent.

I'm consumed by the eerie touch you left on my hotel sheets.

You'll Be Just Fine

Concentrate -

Stay still, keep silent.

Hold your breath -

And slowly release.

Concentrate -

You'll be just fine.

Don't let yourself be defeated,

Don't let yourself be consumed.

You're better than this.

Don't shake,

Don't dare let him see you tremble -

You are no weak.

Take cover -

He's a threat, an enemy.

This has become a battle,

A war.

This fire is approaching.

You can feel it now,

It's slowly rising -

From your toes to your knees,

It's quickly approaching with poor warning.

It hits your heart - grabs and tears.

Your throat begins to swell,

There is no air left.

You're defenseless now -

You're showing off your vulnerability as your chin begins to dimple.

It hits your freckled nose,

Triggering it to flare.

It creeps slowly to prolong the agony -

How sweet.

Next comes the burning -

The blurred vision.

Gone for Days

Tonight, I run.

Save your call, there is no need for a search party -

This wasn't abandonment, this was escape.

The freckled sky will light my way -

I suspect I'll be gone for days.

Tonight, I fall.

More of a victory than a loss -

My body tingles, telling me thank you -

I may be blind, but I can feel the way.

I figure I'll be gone for days.

Tonight, I fly.

I soar higher, steadily pass the light.

No, this is not impossible -

Tonight I have made the impossible possible.

I will be gone for days.

Tonight, I am gone.

I've made my final escape,

Without a conscious look back.

My body quickly adapts to the leave,

It has all kicked in.

Tonight, I am gone.

Curls

Pigtail curls - red and blonde,

Sliding all over the kitchen floor with our socks too big for out little feet.

Mama wasn't home.

He was always a clever one-

Imagination was seen with every blink.

He often tested the water - this time would be no different:

He would be a barber today -

"Short or long?" was his only inquiry.

Although young, I trusted him.

As the sheers began to cut,

Red hair began to fall like snow.

Curl after curl, it all fell silently

Until he was finished with his creation.

Back to the kitchen we went,

To slip and slide with our socks too big.

When Mama finally came home -

She cried.