"Happiness consists in realizing it is all a great strange dream." ~ Jack Kerouac
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Spider in Switzerland
This past Wednesday I got to spend an hour or so at the Ebensburg VFW with George "Spider" Dow, Alexis' grandfather, and Neal Dow, her dad (my father-in-law).
Spider told me a story (at Neal's prompting) about how the president of Switzerland once bought him a drink. He'd been on leave in Switzerland towards the end of WWII and went out for a nice meal one night. He happened to walk in to a restaurant where the president was hosting a large-scale dinner party. He was going to leave but they told him to stay because American GIs were welcome. He ordered a glass of wine ("just seemed a little too nice for beer") and when he pulled out money to pay for it the server informed him that the drink was covered by "that gentleman over there." He looked over to the head of the large table and the man who waved at him was the president of Switzerland.
"What'd you do then, Dad?" Neal asked, grinning.
"I stood up and gave him one of these," Spider said, and he stood and shot off a crisp, proud salute.
Spider told me a story (at Neal's prompting) about how the president of Switzerland once bought him a drink. He'd been on leave in Switzerland towards the end of WWII and went out for a nice meal one night. He happened to walk in to a restaurant where the president was hosting a large-scale dinner party. He was going to leave but they told him to stay because American GIs were welcome. He ordered a glass of wine ("just seemed a little too nice for beer") and when he pulled out money to pay for it the server informed him that the drink was covered by "that gentleman over there." He looked over to the head of the large table and the man who waved at him was the president of Switzerland.
"What'd you do then, Dad?" Neal asked, grinning.
"I stood up and gave him one of these," Spider said, and he stood and shot off a crisp, proud salute.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Cryptic Poems Footnote
One of the authors whose work I posted got in touch with me! How cool is that? Look at the internet working the way it's supposed to for once, bringing people together with common interests! I was pretty excited about that, and I can't wait to tell my class.
For the record, the poems I posted were some of the ones I liked quite a lot. My initial reaction was, "Oh, why are they searching so basically? Why are their research skills so unrefined?" I resolved to work on our being savvier surfer-researchers at some point soon...
But then...
The poems they found, however haphazardly, were all pretty decent poems. Some were, in fact, excellent.
The lesson I learn in all of this? There is a world of online poetry out there that is vibrant, huge, and (like most things on the internet) filled with wide-ranging qualities of work. However, it exists "outside of the academy," which is a rather exciting poetic development.
For the record, the poems I posted were some of the ones I liked quite a lot. My initial reaction was, "Oh, why are they searching so basically? Why are their research skills so unrefined?" I resolved to work on our being savvier surfer-researchers at some point soon...
But then...
The poems they found, however haphazardly, were all pretty decent poems. Some were, in fact, excellent.
The lesson I learn in all of this? There is a world of online poetry out there that is vibrant, huge, and (like most things on the internet) filled with wide-ranging qualities of work. However, it exists "outside of the academy," which is a rather exciting poetic development.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Cryptic Poems found by Googling "Cryptic Poems," Part III
HALLUCINATIONS
The man with the burning mustache
Is busy faxing my fingernails.
Through Monday's telescope
There is no sign of Tuesday's breakfast.
The kitset monk
Exacerbates the anger of the penguin.
I am a vulnerable vertical
On an immensity of envelopes.
The armchair assassin
Knows my weakness
And plots.
The tourists in my nose descend,
Assailant voices
Reminding me of my choice:
I have mainlined mortality.
Nothing is certain
Therefore all things are possible.
In a wobbly universe
The tilting horizons of mayonnaise
Promise no insurance.
A comet shoves through,
Hot, purple, flaring,
Dispersing the forgetfulness of ravens.
The aftermath of friction
Revealing the locusts in my mind.
It is ten o'clock.
The chocolate is condensing.
Flaring sugars. Crystalized fish.
My eyebrows have invaded my brain.
I look through the window.
The octopus is rising.
The stone has split to fracture up tomatoes.
Beyond the event horizon
The yellow rain falls,
Illuminating
Vibrating plastics,
Soaking
The cells of a dead dog's ears.
My elbows slowly get warmer
And the knitting needle purrs.
This poem HALLUCINATIONS was first published together with the accompanying notes when posted online by Hugh Cook on 2005 May 7 Saturday. Poem and accompanying notes Copyright © 2005 Hugh Cook.
Is busy faxing my fingernails.
Through Monday's telescope
There is no sign of Tuesday's breakfast.
The kitset monk
Exacerbates the anger of the penguin.
I am a vulnerable vertical
On an immensity of envelopes.
The armchair assassin
Knows my weakness
And plots.
The tourists in my nose descend,
Assailant voices
Reminding me of my choice:
I have mainlined mortality.
Nothing is certain
Therefore all things are possible.
In a wobbly universe
The tilting horizons of mayonnaise
Promise no insurance.
A comet shoves through,
Hot, purple, flaring,
Dispersing the forgetfulness of ravens.
The aftermath of friction
Revealing the locusts in my mind.
It is ten o'clock.
The chocolate is condensing.
Flaring sugars. Crystalized fish.
My eyebrows have invaded my brain.
I look through the window.
The octopus is rising.
The stone has split to fracture up tomatoes.
Beyond the event horizon
The yellow rain falls,
Illuminating
Vibrating plastics,
Soaking
The cells of a dead dog's ears.
My elbows slowly get warmer
And the knitting needle purrs.
This poem HALLUCINATIONS was first published together with the accompanying notes when posted online by Hugh Cook on 2005 May 7 Saturday. Poem and accompanying notes Copyright © 2005 Hugh Cook.
Cryptic Poems found by Googling "Cryptic Poems," Part II
Another "cryptic poem" my students found by, uh, Googling "cryptic poems":
originally published at:
http://crypticpoems.blogspot.com/
Lingering in his memory, his senses she commands,
Intoxicated by the scent of her persona, he wanders
Vagabond his spirit, through the mist meanders.
Emerging from the haze then, into the night,
Revealing himself to the Huntress’s sight.
Slowly the clouds engulf her in that moment,
Obscuring, as if a dream her presence, in an instant.
Frozen, a crystal, in his mind that glimpse embeds,
To enrich his thoughts eternally, her memory never fades.
Higher he ascends into the ether she perfumed,
Enamoured he remains, by her charisma, consumed.
Seeking her, he ventures forth, into the forest of dreams,
Allured into its milieu, by these unending streams.
Flowing perennial through this realm illusive,
Flowering in it, such blossoms, exclusive.
Rewarded by the adventures this journey has presented,
Offering him those experiences, that fantasy has created.
Never losing sense, of the passion he pursues,
Surrendering to the huntress alone, he continues.
Under the foliage of imagination, that is the forest,
Nurtured by the aspirations of each measure purest.
Onwards the forest, into the mist dissolves,
Near yet far, he stares as the summit evolves
Solitary he roams, no destination in sight,
Invisible to his eyes, she leads him to light,
Leaving the wonders, in which his senses delight.
He hears in the distance, sounds of the spray splash,
Onto the coast as those, tumultuous waves crash.
Underneath those waves, lies the sea’s tranquility,
Entering into this world, he imbibes its oceanic quality.
The immensity of that silence disperses thought,
The nothingness, the void, the presence, that is naught.
Evaporating into the air the ocean transforms,
Suddenly, into a fog, that transcends through the storms.
Observing in nature such eccentricity,
Fathoming in the depth, its, simplicity.
Through this cloud, again he perceives her,
Her scent, her voice, her spirit; so near.
Elation resurfaces from within his soul,
Surging through him, once again he feels whole.
His passions were but, the duties of his desire,
An insight, she gifted, as a magical souvenir.
Duty and passion complete each other,
One shall drive while, the other deliver.
Wisps of the mist now caress his face,
Softly it surrounds him in an icy embrace.
Sublimely the vapour transforms and blends,
Into the mist he merges, a new dimension transcends.
Lost in an abstraction, the huntress, he has sought, in
Every realm sensed, by his perception and thought.
Now enveloped in the ether, the truth to him dawns
The huntress accompanies as his soul companion.
© Jwalant Dave, 2007.
originally published at:
http://crypticpoems.blogspot.com/
The Tigress Of The Mist
Sedated are his senses, by her fragrance entranced,Lingering in his memory, his senses she commands,
Intoxicated by the scent of her persona, he wanders
Vagabond his spirit, through the mist meanders.
Emerging from the haze then, into the night,
Revealing himself to the Huntress’s sight.
Slowly the clouds engulf her in that moment,
Obscuring, as if a dream her presence, in an instant.
Frozen, a crystal, in his mind that glimpse embeds,
To enrich his thoughts eternally, her memory never fades.
Higher he ascends into the ether she perfumed,
Enamoured he remains, by her charisma, consumed.
Seeking her, he ventures forth, into the forest of dreams,
Allured into its milieu, by these unending streams.
Flowing perennial through this realm illusive,
Flowering in it, such blossoms, exclusive.
Rewarded by the adventures this journey has presented,
Offering him those experiences, that fantasy has created.
Never losing sense, of the passion he pursues,
Surrendering to the huntress alone, he continues.
Under the foliage of imagination, that is the forest,
Nurtured by the aspirations of each measure purest.
Onwards the forest, into the mist dissolves,
Near yet far, he stares as the summit evolves
Solitary he roams, no destination in sight,
Invisible to his eyes, she leads him to light,
Leaving the wonders, in which his senses delight.
He hears in the distance, sounds of the spray splash,
Onto the coast as those, tumultuous waves crash.
Underneath those waves, lies the sea’s tranquility,
Entering into this world, he imbibes its oceanic quality.
The immensity of that silence disperses thought,
The nothingness, the void, the presence, that is naught.
Evaporating into the air the ocean transforms,
Suddenly, into a fog, that transcends through the storms.
Observing in nature such eccentricity,
Fathoming in the depth, its, simplicity.
Through this cloud, again he perceives her,
Her scent, her voice, her spirit; so near.
Elation resurfaces from within his soul,
Surging through him, once again he feels whole.
His passions were but, the duties of his desire,
An insight, she gifted, as a magical souvenir.
Duty and passion complete each other,
One shall drive while, the other deliver.
Wisps of the mist now caress his face,
Softly it surrounds him in an icy embrace.
Sublimely the vapour transforms and blends,
Into the mist he merges, a new dimension transcends.
Lost in an abstraction, the huntress, he has sought, in
Every realm sensed, by his perception and thought.
Now enveloped in the ether, the truth to him dawns
The huntress accompanies as his soul companion.
© Jwalant Dave, 2007.
Cryptic Poems found by Googling "Cryptic Poems," Part I
from:
http://www.gotpoetry.com/Poems/l_op=viewpoems/lid=54439.html
CRYPTIC SEED
PLEASE DON’T READ !!!!
This is cryptic seed
Solely designed
To invade your mind
If you persist
In reading this
Your thoughts will be affected
you’ll feel changes in your perspective
By then its too late
Nothing to do but wait
Curiosity killed the cat
If you read further
You cannot go back
Have you got a death wish or what
You think this is a game its not
Your brain synapse
Are deploying lapses
An imbedded covert syntax
Is charting your brain wave maps
Once in place
They can’t be erased
HEAD THIS LAST WARNING I IMPLORE
I WON’T TRY TO WARN YOU ANY MORE
Well
Hell
Too late now you should have waited
The damadge is done your contaminated
There’s nothing I can do
I tried to stop you
Told you so
Gotta go
rondo
I've asked my students to bring me cryptic poems. Interestingly, they go to their oracle, Google, to do this. "Google," they implore, "find me this." They type it clearly: "cryptic poem." And I get things like this in class. Thanks, Google. The random equations and logarithms of this "universe 2.0" frustrates the crap out of some of my honors students. I can tell that some (not all, not even a majority) of my students are muttering under their breath, wondering what this zeitgeist approach teaches them about things the "academy" believes they ought to know. From a curriculum standpoint, we are addressing our "unit questions" and "learning maps," so I feel like we're on track. Those of us who can hold things a bit more loosely can enjoy the ride.
http://www.gotpoetry.com/Poems/l_op=viewpoems/lid=54439.html
Cryptic Seed
by rondoCRYPTIC SEED
PLEASE DON’T READ !!!!
This is cryptic seed
Solely designed
To invade your mind
If you persist
In reading this
Your thoughts will be affected
you’ll feel changes in your perspective
By then its too late
Nothing to do but wait
Curiosity killed the cat
If you read further
You cannot go back
Have you got a death wish or what
You think this is a game its not
Your brain synapse
Are deploying lapses
An imbedded covert syntax
Is charting your brain wave maps
Once in place
They can’t be erased
HEAD THIS LAST WARNING I IMPLORE
I WON’T TRY TO WARN YOU ANY MORE
Well
Hell
Too late now you should have waited
The damadge is done your contaminated
There’s nothing I can do
I tried to stop you
Told you so
Gotta go
rondo
I've asked my students to bring me cryptic poems. Interestingly, they go to their oracle, Google, to do this. "Google," they implore, "find me this." They type it clearly: "cryptic poem." And I get things like this in class. Thanks, Google. The random equations and logarithms of this "universe 2.0" frustrates the crap out of some of my honors students. I can tell that some (not all, not even a majority) of my students are muttering under their breath, wondering what this zeitgeist approach teaches them about things the "academy" believes they ought to know. From a curriculum standpoint, we are addressing our "unit questions" and "learning maps," so I feel like we're on track. Those of us who can hold things a bit more loosely can enjoy the ride.
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