Ego, Deflate!!!

I'm sitting in my room reading some workshop pieces for my creative writing class. Today's batch of poems kind of makes me feel ashamed. I suck!
The funny thing. . . here I am critiquing this stuff with comments like "the flow of this poem moves in interesting directions providing the reader with insightful glances into the human condition," and I realized that I don't know what the green blazes I am talking about. I don't even like poetry!

Qualifier

Just as a way of explanation, the previous post, Erato, is a prose poem I wrote for workshopping in my creative writing class. It isn't a confessional in any way. I'm not a bad person. Duck Farts and Redheaded Sluts are alcoholic beverages--I know this from Open Mic Night at the bar in McCarthy, Alaska which serves as the community gathering place for all the 30 residents and 50 or so tourists. Also, Erato is the Greek Muse of lyric poetry.

Anyway, Erato wasn't the best of my poems that I submitted. I thought it was, but everybody seemed to like this one the best.

Wolves

There is a story here. Among the scattered bones and cloying stench of death. The mossy forest floor is a sick yellow underneath a newer carpet of loose hair and bits of decaying flesh. Several fist sized saplings in the area are snapped off, almost waist high. Their remains lie trampled into the moss. He died fighting, this one. A lower jaw bone and a hip socket lie close together. Evidence. A caribou, or a light colored moose. It’s hard to tell without the rest of the skull. There is no need to search for the killer. Just outside the swath of death lie numerous piles of hair-filled feces. Enough to show that a good sized pack of wolves gorged themselves for a day or so.
I wonder, if this was a man, would I stand here so calm among his rotting remains, piecing together the clues of his demise?


I actually didn't really like the way this one turned out.

For all of my readers out there, I am interested in your opinion. Both poems are still in rough draft form, so present me with your thoughts. Which do you like better? What do you like or dislike about these poems? And do you have any suggestions for improvement? Feel free to comment harshly if that is your desire. Thanks!

Erato

Once I had a muse. She lingered in my dreams and fed me lines and lies dipped in honey. Pages and pages I filled with foolish and empty rhetoric on love. I was in love. But once I treated her to a night in the city she vanished among the tangled streets. Without a word. I was left alone under the flashing neon lights, with the sound of sirens singing in my ears. Long nights since I have searched, and searched, for her, and found nothing. Once I thought I found her in a bar on 4th serving duck farts and redheaded sluts over the counter, but the gothic lipstick was wrong. The feeling was wrong. I was wrong. But I took her home anyway. When I woke in the morning blank pages met my eyes, and I could not fill them other than a few constipated and bitter lines. Of truth. Time passes, but I still wake at night tangled in blankets and sweat, clinging to cheap motel pillows, with the echo of her name ringing across the room. Whether a plea or a curse I cannot tell.

~Joseph Devenport

My Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week.

Ok, so it really wasn't that bad. Just the ending.

Wednesday--For the first time I am actually in a place where I can watch television for So You Think You Can Dance, because they moved the show to the Fall. Once I found that out I tuned in, by myself, at 7pm for the Phoenix auditions with great expectations. Lame. And worst of all? I experienced, for the first time, a same-sex ballroom dance couple. Call me narrow minded, bigoted, racist, or whatever. Nasty. Insulting to ballroom dance. Boo! And Mary, and Mia (the judges) were getting emotional "you're so courageous," (blah, blah). Go away. On the other hand, there was a girl who had spinal meningitis when she was a baby and was deaf as a result. She danced very well. It was touching.

Thursday--I went to World of Dance with very high expectations. I was disappointed. First of all, no Cougarettes. Second, the Ballroom team, for whom I have much love, was a letdown. The Pirates number was good, but it has always fallen short of the standard set by Cinemagic or some of the other ballroom themes. . .though the very ending is freaking awesome. The Mambo really is kind of bland, and the new rumba falls well short of "If That Were Me"--the song is just really kind of weird (a guy singing that he wants to dance with his father?). Third, the modern dance company did the same routine three different times to the same musical formula, just in different costumes (though they did do really cool things with lighting in the second one). Fourth, I realized that the folk team does the exact same routine every time too, just with different cultural steps and costumes (the women all start out dancing sedately, then the men come in and turn it into a party). Fifth, my favorite number was the last ballet piece. Very funny. Sixth, I had four empty chairs next to me on one side, and an old couple on the other. I felt lonely.

Friday--wasn't that bad. Residual loneliness.

Saturday--BYU lost, badly, to Florida St. AND I had a pounding make-me-want-to-yark headache at the same time. It was fitting, but nobody should have to endure that kind of pain. I had to take TWO doses of Excedrin, that's 128mg of Caffeine, which is why I am still awake blogging.

And that is my horrible, no good, very bad week.

The End.

Ekphrasis

She could be dead, for all we know, lifted up as an offering to the gods. Her eyes are closed and her arms fall behind her, limp, held in place by sinew and bone, but not by the coursing of blood. There is grace in her form that follows the curve of her spine and explodes through the point of her toes. She is beautiful, even in the form of death. Light, almost holy, illuminates her face. If she is dead, she died content, or in love. But the dead often appear so. ~Joseph Devenport

Picture: Darci Kistler and Robert LaFosse by Annie Leibovitz

Save me From my Torment!

I think all clothing stores should have a little entertainment area with plush leather couches, multiple TV's playing sports, and video game systems galore so that men--who are efficient at shopping--can entertain themselves while the women of their lives try on clothes for hours on end.

Target Acquired?

All I wanted to do was peek through the door to check out this really cute girl I saw. Now I'm her TA.

Does that mean I can't ask her out?

Star Trek

Hooray for the Dollar Theater!!! Now is the time where I catch up on all the cool movies that I missed while I was dwelling in a tent for the summer in the Arctic. First up was Star Trek.

Yes, I think I may be a closet trekkie. No, I don't dress up and act really weird all the time (though secretly I've always thought that would be really fun), but I have watched a good portion of the movies and the original TV series and I must say I do enjoy them. Anyway, I don't know that this whole preface was necessary, but here is one that is (it's from the Onion!)


Trekkies Bash New Star Trek Film As 'Fun, Watchable'

Now, for my official review. . . I don't know what else to say, the movie is fun and watchable. I think one of the appealing factors of the movie was that it really didn't take itself too seriously. There were lots of subtle jabs and over-characterizations that were aimed at the original series. For instance, Captain Kirk spends a great deal of time trying to find out Uhura's first name, which he never does. I don't think she ever even had a first name. . .

I would have liked a bit more character development, since this is the first time we're ever supposed to be meeting them, but that would have added an hour or so to the length of the film. It was also a bit of a stretch that the crew members were all assembled onto the Enterprise all at once. It pretty much comes down to the disaster and then all of the sudden everybody is there, on the Enterprise doing what they have always done.

And what the. . . Karl Urban (Eomer in LOTR) as Bones? He did a good job for the part but I never would have guessed though. Actually, I was very pleased with all of the young talent in this film. All of them were able to capture the essence of the original characters without becoming flat quite well.

Anyway, in short, good film. Just don't sit in the very front row. You might get a bit dizzy.

B+

Sunnyside Up

Since I live in an expensive new (to me) apartment with a pool, I decided to go try out the swimming. This was a new experience because apparently people don't really spend that much time swimming in these things. They actually lay around off to the side and get sunburned. And, I might discreetly add that there were several HOTTIES scattered about. So I gave tanning a try. It was interesting, but the whole experience presented a whole new puzzle in the social dilemma for this Alaskan male. How does one flirt/socialize/associate with a girl who is dressed in a tasteful one-piece without coming across badly?

Here's how I envision that they do it in California:

Man approaches woman sunbathing, subtly flexes muscles.
Man: "Just look at my chiseled abs and rippling biceps."
Woman (peering over rim of sunglasses, sighs): "I'm not impressed, but did YOU notice my sun-kissed legs that practically GLOW when they catch the light?"
Me, I mean, Man: ". . . , . . . Yes."
Woman: "Well stop drooling on my legs. I'll have to oil them all over again."