Pages of Awesome

Saturday, March 2, 2013

To UK or to UofL

Stay in school and don't do drugs. College is important.

I'm looking forward to it. New classes, a focus on literature and writing, it's going to be a blast. The only problem is where to go and how to get there.

Lots of ups and downs about where I want to go, why I want to go there, how I know I want to go there, and whether I'll be content with making the decision to go there on that basis. I wrote a poem earlier in the year about this indecision, this contstant movement toward an unknown end. I'm sure there's some other seniors out there--here's what I'm feeling.

Standing Still
The sun sets, the wind walks, to your left a rabbit scurries
through thick twelve inch grass; dusk breathes on the earth,
and clouds billow and brush past stars that—though seemingly motionless—
pulse with purposeful passion.
And you sit still, not at a crossroads but a field—beautiful and windswept
like the girl you love crossing smooth legs at your hip, like her hair which dances
as she once did, a hummingbird or an otter in a shallow brook; she whispers wisdom,
but you don’t hear over the perpetual motion of the field—not now, not yet.
No, you listen to the sun—that burning, fiery star
tugging at your empty chest, pulling you toward its purifying kiln;
you can’t hear the soft vibration of her lips because right now, you wish
the sun would just this once stand still for you.

You dream—if only for a second, only for a moment,
that racing star might wait for you.

Any seniors our there? Where are you headed next year? Any college kids or out of college kids? What helped you decide? Let's chat.

Strength and Courage,

Friday, March 1, 2013

Great with Child to Speak

I've been reading through a book of old poetry I snagged for a quarter at my library's used book sale. It never ceases to amaze me how constant human nature has been throughout history. We've written about the same things, felt the same things, and struggled with the same things. As a writer, this is interesting to me.

What's more interesting, is when writers write about their ruts--their struggle for artistic perfection. I came across a sonnet by Sir Phillip Sidney. It's worth sharing.

So let's read this together. I love every word. And together, let's do our duty as writers.

Loving in Truth
Sir Phillip Sidney

Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That the dear she might take some pleasure of my pain,
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe:
Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,
Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburned brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay;
Invention, Nature's child, fled stepdame Study's blows;
And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite:
"Fool," said my Muse to me, "look in thy heart, and write."

So do it! Write something! And tell me about it. "Turn others' leaves" with me.

Strength and Courage,
"Stand tall now and proclaim what you have seen, speak in whispered roars..."