Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Week #4—Improv #1

An exchange of pronouns, nouns, adjectives, and verbs in Dubrow’s “Odysseus, Sleeping”

Galatea, Manifesting

Galatea barely slept,
            while he labored still
like a slave master
            or a hurricane
swirling against the shore
            to erode the sand. Will
he slip into a slumber?
            She boldly hoped
that he would tire
            soon. His hands
bore clay above the wrists.
            She sometimes glanced
through the window to view
            the world beyond
their tiny room
            of inspiration, fascinated
by how its colors—
            like the oil painting
hanging on the wall
            --were framed in wood
and reflective of another place
            in time, his time
preserved in his creations.
            How could she have known
that soon she would become
            a woman formed
perfect, a formidable
being intended
for adoration, worship, and love
            throughout eternity?
           
           

Week #4—Sign Inventory

PENELOPE, ON A DIET

                      By Jehanne Dubrow

She’s tried them all before
     and always failed, the war
             against her waistline more

than she can win alone,
      eating dinner on her own:
              some broth, a chicken bone

clad in a scrap of meat,
       a lettuce leaf replete
               with vinegar. Defeat

is just a Hershey’s bar
       away, the gallon jar
             of peanut butter not far

enough beyond her reach.
       Some dieters beseech
              the gods for help. South Beach

and Atkins are divine,
       two deities thin as twine.
              Some women choose to dine

on nothing but the breeze,
       or no white foods, or string cheese,
              ham, and raspberries.

Some women pick protein
        instead of carbs, caffeine
               instead of lunch. They’ve seen

The opposite of fat
        is never thin—it’s that
               solitude she can’t combat,

No matter what she eats.
        She’s still alone, still cheating
               on a fast she won’t complete.

Another diet. There will
        be no way then to fill
               her stomach up, no pill

to kill the appetite.
      Alone, she will recite
              a prayer for each bite

of food. How good to digest
       cardboard, how very blessed
               that thirst can be suppressed.

13 rhyming tercets in third person voice
Internal rhyme in “pill” and “kill”; “than” and “can”;
Assonance in like vowel sounds “against” and “waistline”; “clad” and “scrap”; “leaf” and “replete”; “with” and “vinegar”’; “can’t” and “combat“; “she” and “eats”; “food” and “good”;
Also in “s” sounds of stanzas six, ten, and thirteen.
Repetition in “still alone, still cheating”
25 lines enjambed
Descending structure of line indentions and sparseness of verses mimics the diminishing nature of dieting.
Some elevated language in “beseech/the gods,” “recite a prayer,” “how very blessed,” and “deities.”
Alliteration in “lettuce leaf,” “two deities thin as twine,” “but the breeze,” “pick protein,” “carbs, caffeine,” and “can’t combat.”
 Lines 5, 12, 17, 20, 27, 29, 30, 31, and 37 have seven syllables while the rest have six, except for line 21 which has five.
Title refers to mythical figure, wife of Odysseus in Homer’s Odyssey, creating irony.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Week #3—Improv #2

A riff off of “Faith-Based Option” by Erika Meitner
(in that I wanted to emulate her series of imperatives)

Instructions for Diligent, Deadbeat Poets

                                    By Pauline Rodwell

Don’t listen to the ones who know.
How do you think they did it?
By following rules and engaging tools
their predecessors invented?
Do it your way.  Avert the struggle.
Don’t suffer the strain of attempting to change
your ingrained ways of wording a muddle.
Don’t read other poets’ works in order to learn—
toss them away with your arrogant mentality.
Resist the urge to splurge with words;
instead, you should ooze sentimentality;
and when you run dry with nothing to say,
don’t practice any proven calisthenic.
Just head outside and seize the day—
inspiration may surprise with insight quite eccentric.
If terms like ‘synecdoche’ and ‘negative capability’
cause your hand to freeze,
just remember Keats died young
and seldom wrote to please.
And when it’s time to divvy up
some cherished draft or two,
just wing it from the point of your pen
and pray Calliope grants genius to you.


My Response to MacKenzie’s Improv—Week #3

You have some catchy phrases in this draft, MacKenzie: "The Campbell's-can war will be waged in stages" and "tuck Doc Holliday's wet cough behind your ear" and I agree with Tim that you should keep "bloom the color of buttercups" imagery. Although the subject matter makes me queasy, I think this draft has terrific potential to portray a meaningful story about a novice hunter killing her first deer.

I like "quivering bowstring thumb" but am not sure "steamy belly" works as well. Playing with the format might introduce new possibilities. Good show!

My Response to Brandy’s “Self Portrait”—Week #3

In your first three lines, there is an intimation of resentment by the speaker, as reflected in the "intrusion" of the "blades of grass." I would like to know if it's toward the father or his bride-to-be. Also, the second stanza seems to represent the speaker's sadness. Word pairings like "dried dragon" and "sun folding" provide nice metaphors for a dying relationship; therefore, I expected the third stanza to address a metamorphosis of some kind, especially after the reference to Easter in the first stanza; but instead, it seems to recall the speaker's disappointment and rebellious pride. I would like to see the third stanza stretch further in order to transport the speaker (and the reader) to a new place.

I really like "glass tears" and "When I was five, I was fearless." You have some great language in this draft and "show" a lot of detail. Nice work, Brandy.