Thursday, May 26, 2011

The Final Blog!


We have a mere two days of class left before our presentations begin. I'd like one last blog post from you, a final reflection about the reading you have done this semester. What form it takes is up to you, but I'd like it to be at least 250 words, and it should be done by the end of class Friday.

Reflections like this help me to make this course as personal and challenging as possible. But you need to be honest--don't say things just to make me feel good about the class.

So, in your final blog post, begin with some statistics: As accurately (and honestly) as possible, tabulate how many pages you have read this semester for this class. If you like, you can also break that down by categories: (fiction / non-fiction, or pop fiction / literary fiction).

Then, in a free-written response, contemplate any or all of these questions:

(1) How would you characterize yourself as a reader when you started this class? How independent were you? What kinds of things would you read on your own? How often would you read on your own? Where or why would you read?

(2) During the course of this semester, what kind of reading did you do? Was it easy to find things that interested you? Did you have trouble finding something you could stick with? How did you choose the things you read? Did you have trouble meeting the weekly page quota?

(3) Where and when did you find yourself sitting down to read? Do you tend to read with music on, or in silence? By the computer? Did you find yourself checking your phone a lot, or do you ever lose yourself in the reading? Do you ever talk about the books you read with your family or friends or teachers?

(4) Now, at the end of the semester, have you changed in any way as a reader? Do you read the same types of books you did at the beginning, or have you discovered any new types of writing that you like? Are you more or less likely, do you think, to read independently this summer? What do you think you might read next?

(5) As for poetry . . describe your attitude toward it at the beginning of the semester. Was poetry treated any differently in this course compared to other English classes you've had? Was the type of poetry read here any different? Has your attitude toward poetry changed in any way?

Again, please be honest in your responses.

I've loved teaching you all this semester--thanks for taking the course and making every day a fun one.

Mr. Hill

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

"Togetherness," Yusef Komunyakaa

Someone says Tristan
& Isolde, the shared cup
& broken vows binding them,
& someone else says Romeo
& Juliet, a lyre & Jew’s harp
sighing a forbidden oath,
but I say a midnight horn
& a voice with a moody angel
inside, the two married rib
to rib, note for note. Of course,
I am thinking of those Tuesdays
or Thursdays at Billy Berg’s
in LA when Lana Turner would say,
“Please sing ‘Strange Fruit’
for me,” & then her dancing
nightlong with Mel Torme,
as if she knew what it took
to make brass & flesh say yes
beneath the clandestine stars
& a spinning that is so fast
we can’t feel the planet moving.
Is this why some of us fall
in & out of love? Did Lady Day
& Prez ever hold each other
& plead to those notorious gods?
I don’t know. But I do know
even if a horn & voice plumb
the unknown, what remains unsaid
coalesces around an old blues
& begs with a hawk’s yellow eyes.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

"Barking," Jim Harrison


The moon comes up.
The moon goes down.
This is to inform you
that I didn’t die young.
Age swept past me
but I caught up.
Spring has begun here and each day
brings new birds up from Mexico.
Yesterday I got a call from the outside
world but I said no in thunder.
I was a dog on a short chain
and now there’s no chain.

Monday, May 23, 2011

"Today," Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

"You and I Are Disappearing," Yusef Komunyakaa

The cry I bring down from the hills
belongs to a girl still burning
inside my head. At daybreak

she burns like a piece of paper.
She burns like foxfire
in a thigh-shaped valley.
A skirt of flames
dances around her
at dusk.
We stand with our hands
hanging at our sides,
while she burns
like a sack of dry ice.
She burns like oil on water.
She burns like a cattail torch
dipped in gasoline.
She glows like the fat tip
of a banker's cigar,
silent as quicksilver.
A tiger under a rainbow
at nightfall.
She burns like a shot glass of vodka.
She burns like a field of poppies
at the edge of a rain forest.
She rises like dragonsmoke
to my nostrils.
She burns like a burning bush
driven by a godawful wind.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

"Self Help," Bruce Covey

A chicken soup for the rainbow lover’s soul.
A chicken soup for the lover of chicken soup.
A carnage of birds, a devastation.
Chicken soup for the dried-up garden—
It’s been a lousy summer sucking us dry.
Chicken soup for the grocery list.
Chicken soup for unwanted potatoes.
Chicken soup for extinct animals.
In the west, the sun sets upon chicken soup.
With or without noodles or rice or barley,
Or vegetables—canned or otherwise—
Carrots and celery or egg drop chicken soup—
Chicken eggs, of course—or the alphabet
Or chili sauce. Chicken soup for chili lovers,
For the spicy soul. Chicken butchered
& boiled specifically for your cold.
A chicken soup for the cold soul,
A chicken soup for the sole of your shoe.
A chicken soup for decision making:
Does she love me? Or love me not?
Knots tied with chicken soup.
Chicken soup tied and sold in knots.
38 ways to tie your soup, to be tied.
Chicken soup for the protection of others.
A prayer to chicken soup, may it bring me
A winning lottery ticket. Chicken soup
For recovering alcoholics who still
Need hydration. A hydrangea’s
Chicken soup—to be loved like no other.
A chicken soup for Barry Bonds—
May he break Hank Aaron’s record.
Stick a pin in the chicken soup & bet
On its opponent. 30-Love. Match point.
A chicken soup for winners.
A chicken soup for losers.
Chicken soup for those who tie or draw.
The 60-plus occupations of soup.
Chicken for Sue, born in the year
Of the snake. The snake that ate
An alligator and died. They both died.
A chicken soup for the one who is eaten.
A chicken soup for the one who eats
Things other than chicken soup.
Transcending the bowl. A meta-bowl
Chicken soup for the transcended bowl.
Chicken soup for the transcending soup.
Chicken soup for the Marxist, steering
Away from values associated with heirarchies.
Chicken soup for the mud wrestler,
The roller derby queen. Chicken soup
For dairy queen, for the queen of hearts,
For Lady Di and the paparazzi,
For clean and dirty kings and queens.
For kiwis with wings, for the royal
Food pyramid. Chicken soup in
January, it’s so nice
To slip upon the sliding ice.

"Self Help," Charles Bernstein

Home team suffers string of losses.—Time to change loyalties.

Quadruple bypass.—Hold the bacon on that next cheeseburger.

Poems tanking.—After stormiest days, sun comes out from behind clouds, or used to.

Marriage on rocks.—Nothing like Coke.

Election going the wrong direction.—Kick off slippers, take deep breathe, be here now.

Boss says your performance needs boost.—A long hot bath smoothes wrinkles.

War toll tops 100,000.—Get your mind off it, switch to reality TV.

Lake Tang Woo Chin Chicken with Lobster and Sweet Clam Sauce still not served and everyone else got their orders twenty minutes back.—Savor the water, feast on the company.

Subway floods and late for audition.—Start being the author of your own performance. Take a walk.

Slip on ice, break arm.—In moments like this, the preciousness of life reveals itself.

Wages down in non-union shop.—You’re a sales associate, not a worker; so proud to be part of the company.

Miss the train?—Great chance to explore the station!

Suicide bombers wrecks neighborhood.—Time to pitch in!

Nothing doing.—Take a break!

Partner in life finds another partner.—Now you can begin the journey of life anew.

Bald?—Finally, you can touch the sky with the top of your head.

Short-term recall shot.—Old memories are sweetest.

Hard drive crashes and novel not backed up.—Nothing like a fresh start.

Severe stomach cramps all morning.—Boy are these back issues of Field and Stream engrossing.

Hurricane crushes house.—You never seemed so resilient.

Brother-in-law completes second year in coma.—He seems so muchmore relaxed than he used to.

$75 ticket for Sunday meter violation on an empty street in residential neighborhood.—The city needs the money to make us safe and educate our kids.

Missed last episode of favorite murder mystery because you misprogrammed VCR.—Write your own ending!

Blue cashmere pullover has three big moth holes.—What a great looking shirt!

Son joins skinhead brigade of Jews for Jesus.—At least he’s following his bliss.

Your new play receives scathing reviews and closes after a single night.—What a glorious performance!

Pungent stench of homeless man on subway, asking for food.—Such kindness in his eyes, as I turn toward home.

Retirement savings lost on Enron and WorldCom.—They almost rhyme.

Oil spill kills seals.—The workings of the Lord are inscrutable.

Global warming swamps land masses.—Learn to accept change.

Bike going fast in wrong direction knocks you over.—A few weeks off your feet, just what the doctor ordered.

AIDS ravaging Africa.—Wasn’t Jeffrey Wright fabulous in Angels in America?

Muffler shot.—There’s this great pizza place next to the shop.

Income gap becomes crater.—Good motivation to get rich.

Abu Ghraib prisoners tortured.—Let’s face it, shit happens.

Oscar wins Emmy.—Award shows are da bomb.

FBI checking your library check-outs.—I also recommend books on Amazon.

Gay marriages annulled.—Who needs the state to sanctify our love?

President’s lies kill GIs.—He’s so decisive about his core values.

Self-Help.—Other drowns.