Assessment Paper 1

I did not really know what to expect coming into this class. And now here we are halfway through the semester, and I guess I am here to write about what we've (I've) done and what I've noted and what I want to see happen in the last half of this class. It's probably unrealistic - it being a poetry class and all - to hope for a little more structure, so I will try to think of more requests/suggestions/ideas to give by the end of this assessment paper/blog post. Incidentally it is very hard to treat this as an actual paper since I am writing it on a blog. It might also be because I'm not sure how to approach an assignment like this to begin with. But anyway, here goes nothing.

I honestly have probably not spent as much time as I should to work on this class. I have done all the readings as well as several books of various poets' works which have been very helpful. Before this class it was very rare that I would find a book of poetry and just sit down and read it, and I feel like what I've read has helped me get a better feel for what a poem is, and work on my own style of writing. I haven't spent as much time as I should have in writing, mostly because I am really bad at writing things like poetry and the things we do in this class when I do not have some kind of inspiration. I don't like forcing myself to try to find something I'm not feeling. I've been putting as much effort as I've been able to, though, considering the inspiration droughts I regularly experience. And I really do feel as though I've improved since my first disaster of a "Beginnings" poem. I have been having some trouble with the "liturgy and worship" aspects of the class, just because I am not used to writing with the type of language that that requires... I haven't been doing many prayers because my first two were my normal praying-language as well as fairly personalized, which isn't what I was supposed to be going for, and I'm not sure how to change that. I don't like most communal prayers, especially written ones that can be read or memorized; they usually strike me as insincere and as a result I find it difficult to pay attention or try to "pray along." So I would have to change my perspective on this subject to be able to write these prayers, and I just don't know how to do that.

I did wake up every three hours to try to do that Hours poem series in one day, for which I think I should get some bonus points.

I am taking this class seriously and I'd like to think that what I have been able to do reflects that. I know most of my poetry is not silly (the exceptions being one or two of my Hours poems that I tried to infuse with some humor), no matter how badly most of them may be written. I think the category "seriousness of the work" mostly applies to effort, though, which I've already addressed. I try to take all of my classes seriously and I am trying my hardest to do well in this class.

I still don't know what a poem is. A definition would be so helpful, but yes I do understand that poetry is one of those things that can be almost anything, kind of like art. There's a lot of it in the world, sometimes hard to recognize as itself, some of it bad and a lot of it good, but in the end it just is. This of course makes it difficult for me to write poetry, especially since I like to know what I'm doing before I do it. Which is a weird mindset for me, a self-proclaimed artist, to have, when my favorite discipline is based entirely on aesthetics and the audience's response and things that I can't define but have to feel my way towards. I think I just need to stop thinking of writing a poem as writing, and start thinking of it as a form of art, so that I can stop thinking so hard and instead feel the solution. Once I get to that point I think I might actually be not half bad at this poetry thing; I'm just not there yet.

I've never had to use a blog for a class, and I've never been able to keep up a regular blog, so this has been interesting to say the least. I like the blog system because it enables me to actually see my fellow classmates' work, instead of just knowing how I am doing and not seeing progress made by anyone else. I also don't like typing things in Word and printing them out and handing them in when they're due, so this makes my life a lot easier. I do not however think that the blog is always the most convenient thing. I need to get to a computer in order to post things, and not only a computer but a computer with working internet. The Houghton wireless has been a problem for me more than once this semester, and with unreliable service like that it can make the blog system something of a pain. Overall though I think it is a great idea.

The accountability groups are very helpful, except of course for those times when I have little to show my group. But it is always really good to get outside feedback, on anything really, because I know for me personally I am a really bad judge of what I make that is good or bad, and why, so I need other people to tell me what I'm doing right/wrong. Suggestions as to what to do with work are always helpful, since even when I don't take the advice it does cause me to think about my work from a different perspective. The small groups are good too; I've become able to recognize my group members' style and notice their habits because there are so few of them and I deal almost exclusively with them.

For this next half of the semester, as I said previously, I would love more structure and definitions and things to be laid out for me so I can feel a little more like I know what I'm doing and not just being whirled along for the ride. But since I doubt that will happen, here's a more realistic goal: I want to get better at the things we do in this class. We are halfway done and I still feel like I am an awful poet, and I would like that feeling to change to a mostly mediocre poet. I don't think that's too much to ask. Hopefully.

Hours (attempt #1)

Matins

Quiet
the beginning of the day
is the end of mine
all I hear on this path
is the steady chirp of crickets
the moon above is full and round
haloed by clouds
and stars.
I can see my breath.
a single leaf floats before my face
fallen from a tree's branches, high above me
one tiny leaf and I
see the glorious moon and I
am standing here, waiting for you
to give me your warmth


Lauds

A single line of
unsanctioned light making its way
through the closed drapes
I am too tired to sleep
With no sound but a fan and my own breathing
what hour is this when thoughts collide restlessly
skewer each other in the midair of exhaustion
eyelids creeping slowly down
darkness

at three in the morning it is easiest to hear
the earth's heartbeat


Prime

The sun is still fast asleep
and my new day has already begun
Maybe tomorrow
the sun can take my classes
complete the daily grind
for me
and I
can sleep in


Terce

Cold,
misty morning
first class of the day over already
somewhere in the distance, a crow
(or maybe a raven;
I never could remember the difference)
calls out, as if to make the mysterious air
even more alien
a mix of impending winter
and horror movie
another long day stretches interminably ahead
and all I want to do
is forget the world
and sleep


Terce (v.2)

There is a tree
by the music building
on its way from summer to fall
green to gold
some of the leaves are still green, defying winter
that is taking the rest of their brethren
side by side
with leaves the color of autumn
already beginning to brown,
crackle,
die

it's cold out,
and I wonder what you are doing,
and I wonder how long the signs of spring will last.


Sext

Sunlight at last
and I'm stuck inside
meetings and classes and work and
the sky is so blue

I listen and take notes
(like the good student I am)
but my teacher lectures in front of an open window
and behind her the leaves are falling
drifting down on the breeze
waiting to crackle underfoot
their siren song
whispering
"a painter never made such colors"


None

In here
I'm surrounded by white-washed walls
carpet covering earth
instead of dewy blades
white columns replace the towering trees
fluorescent bulbs are the sun
I sit behind a desk as outside
the light of day
begins to fade
trapped behind a desk in this paper forest,
compressed and stolen from nature,
where the only green
is in the binding of a book

Vespers

Sometime between then and now,
the sun went away.
dusk is settling in
the day almost done
yet there is still so much work left to do
tonight, and even more to do
tomorrow.
the greys of dusk to the blacks of night, and then
the breaking of a new morning.


Vespers (v.2)

Dusk makes me feel nostalgic.
There is something sad in the way
the colors of the sun
are replaced by the greys of evening
the way brilliant prisms
become drab ghosts of their former selves.
rainbows are muted, colors banished
the grey time reminds me of a distant past
just as the sun reminds
of your promised joy


Compline

The stars are veiled by clouds
the moon invisible tonight
colds seeps in
through the cracks in a heated room
as exhaustion seeps in
through the cracks in my tired mind
soon sleep will come
and then
the return of the sun

Looking out,
a moment of stillness.
I close my eyes
and hear you in the quiet