Final Project Proposal

For the final project I will be doing a chapbook. Even when we first started talking about the final project, I knew I wanted to do one. I think my poems will be best expressed in a book. It will be easy for me to visualize and organize them. The only thing is that even though I already have written 16 poems, I might have to write more of them because they don't all relate to each other and I know the book has to have some sort of theme. I have had two most common themes in my poems which are family and nature. I think either could work for the book. I'm leaning more towards the family thing because I have so many memories and family members that I could write about while if I write about nature it could become impersonal. But if I can combine the two themes it would be even better. I could make the chapbook have two chapters maybe. The hardest part will be making the actual book but I think it will turn out pretty nice.

Visual Poem Project Proposal

Poem: http://15smsullivan.blogspot.com/2013/11/happy-poem-video-idea.html

Proposal: I think I am going to do a slide show of pictures with a voice over or an audio poem with the words of the poem moving and forming different shapes. I will just have to see which option works better with the poem or maybe do a combination.

Tech Tools: I’m sure there is a tool online that I can use, I don’t need anything fancy.

Materials: I will need a computer and a microphone.

Other people needed: No one else needed.

Audio Element: I have a lot of sound description in my poem so maybe I could add in that specific sound effect when I’m talking about it.

Visual footage: I don’t need to film anything.

Time/ date/ venue: It doesn’t really matter what time I make it during the day. I want to start it soon though.

Happy (poem video idea)

Happy

Bubbles rushing to the top of a glass, exploding and fizzing

Sunshine hitting your face after being inside

A nonstop energy that fuels you to run a mile

A pair of warm fuzzy socks for the long winter

Having a really good hair day

The ticklish and jumpy sensation of when someone pokes you in the back

The jittery excitement of waiting for the weekend

Hitting a winner on a point in tennis with everyone watching

The first snow storm of the year

Running in the rain and stomping in puddles creating a small tidal wave

Eating an ice cream cone on a sunny day

Getting a good grade on a hard test that you studied for

Scoring a goal in a hockey game and being congratulated by teammates

Sitting inside on a gray day in pajamas watching countless movies

Being surrounded by friends, whether doing nothing or going on an adventure

Taking off on a plane ride to a new exciting vacation

Skating outside at night under the lights

Family holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas with the great food

The freedom of summer with endless possibilities

Driving alone home from school jamming to a good song

Happy

Louis Jenkins Response

My first impression of Louis Jenkins poems was that I really enjoyed them. I liked how they were descriptive, like he was just jotting down observations and a conversation he was having. Then he would go a bit deeper with the meaning. Like in his poem "Football" he states, "One has certain responsibilities,

one has to make choices. This isn't right and I'm not going to throw it." In the beginning he was just talking about a football, then he talks about an old shoe and pancakes but somehow he makes it work. He ties it together with the line "I realize that this is a world where anything is possible and I understand, also, that one often has to make do with what one has. " He does this descriptive story telling into a deeper meaning it almost all of his poems. Like in his poem "The Talk" it starts out very light-hearted but then at the line "Then she was silent. She looked at him. He saw that her eyes were gray" it all turns around. In the beginning he was talking about the instant connection he had with her and how she had stunning blue eyes. When her eyes turned gray, that's when the problem arises and she feels like he is smothering her even though they just met. I really like his prose poetry and it is something that would be fun to master because I think the simplicity of it is beautiful.

Poetry Reading

On October 23rd I attended a poetry reading at The Black Dog Coffee and Wine Bar. I had never been there before but it was quite nice inside. The fact that the reading to place at a coffee and wine bar was cliche and something that I pictured when I envisioned what a reading would be like. There was a small stage set aside for multiple poets and many small tables for people to listen and observe what was going on. Almost everyone there for the reading had a notepad. In class, we had watched a video of a poet and the crowd would go wild after almost every line she read. That wasn't the case at the one I went to. Everyone would just listen and then clap after the poet was done speaking. My favorite poem that night was spoken by Hawona Sullivan Janzen (not just because of her name). It was about herself as a fourteen year old and how her parents didn't 'get' her and how no one understood what she was going through. I thought it was a poem that was one most people could relate to and since I was only fourteen two years ago, I really understood the feelings and messages transferred through the poem. Overall, it was a better experience than I thought it was going to be and the poets were very interesting to listen to.

Chris Martin "The Bubble"

Poet Chris Martin is very proud of the fact that none of the lines in his poem are the same length. I hadn't noticed this before he told us, I had just noticed that his lines are generally short and choppy. This made the poem, "The Bubble", harder to read. I really had to pay attention to every line and go back to certain lines just to try and find meaning or a sense of understanding. My attention span had to be on point for this poem and sometimes it trailed off. For example, the first time a read the poem I zoned out at the line, "who are every name." This line is towards the beginning of the poem and to me, was a confusing one. It isn't exactly a logical sentence and it doesn't fit in well with the one two lines above it, "with sun’s bubble still inside." My attention was brought back with the line "doubling bubbling bubble" which is my favorite line of the poem. I love the repetition of the 'b' sound and the line in general sounds so happy. If I was asked to explain the story or message in the poem, I wouldn't be able to do it because it all seems like nonsense to me. First he was talking about a girls thigh, then the sun, then names, then bubbles, then angels, then champagne and then how angels and workmen are similar. It was quite a lot to take in! By using shorter lines and changing the topic very often he really pushes you away from grasping the concept, story or image portrayed. All the images he uses in his poems are real life experiences so I would think that it would be easier to understand his poems, but its not. People want a story in a poem, something that is easy to follow and he does not give the reader or the listener this.

http://www.esquemag.org/2012/01/31/chris-martin/

Unknown Park

The park would be one of serenity if it was not placed by a busy street
Gray- brown tree with black- green pointy leaves
Statue of an old caring man in a robe with a young scared child
Low shrubs, prickly, green and surrounded by red wood chips
A sour apple tree with the bitter fruit that looks like sweet cherries
Tall, strong brown tree with vertically striped bark with swirling limbs
Skinny pine trees stand in a group away from the others
Picnic tables with benches attached as well as tables with one or two chairs
Dreary gray, white sky is all consuming
Two trees with light brown bark and light green narrow leaves beginning to turn orange
Two chairs face each other in a confrontational way, there is no table between them
The gray in the sky is beginning to break up
The chirping of two small birds back and forth at the same pitch
The sky is turning white
The grass is a splotchy green
Purple flowers appear on bushes
Teal shrubs with fat leaves
Yellow flowers perched on the top of bushes
A red leaved tree peeks from the background
The sky is now an icey electric blue
The park is more colorful, animated than it was when I first arrived

Three

Ring circus, Little pigs, the Stooges

French hens, peas in a pod, tricycles

Blind mice, feet in a yard, legged race

Mick, Sheila and Jack.

They all come in threes

they wouldn't be the same if it was only two

Each piece is very important to the whole.
Mick, the oldest.
The one with the never-ending smile that is missing a tooth.
The one who is always there for the other two.
Jack, the youngest.
The baby of the family with a contagious laugh.
The one who can always manage to make you happy.
Sheila, the middle one.
The one that is happy-go-lucky no matter what.
The one who is a mixture of her brothers.
They all live by the same message:
family above everything.

But, Mom

No.
I don't want to go.
I'm comfortable here, not there.
But I won't know anyone.
I already have friends.
I have already made the tennis team here.
I will have to try out again.
I'm scared.
What if no one talks to me?
I don't like being alone.

Artificial Nature

The buildings stack up like mountains.

The stop sign hovers at the end of the street like a fiery sunset.

The green arrow, meaning go, looks like grass.

Schools of people walk like salmon swimming down a river.

The melodious little birds are replaced with gray pigeons.

The stoniness of the asphalt is similar to granite cliffs.
Groups of skyscrapers stand tall like sequoia trees.
The black exhaust from semi trucks look like thunder clouds about to rumble.
The whooshing sound of traffic is a louder version of a rushing river.
The reflective glass panels on buildings compare to the restrictiveness of a still lake.
The people in the shadows, ready to rob, are like mountain lions, ready to kill.

Autumn Sonnet

The most beautiful season is autumn

The healthy leaves and temperature drop

Newly colored red, yellow trees stand tall

The descending foliage does not stop.

Bright orange, seasonal pumpkins which you carve

Can be baked into warm, sweet pumpkin bread

Wearing my brothers' sweaters, which are large

Watching squirrels pick nuts, so they wont starve
Nostalgia brought back from orchards smell
Freshly picked apples are juicily ripe

Which are best to be eaten with caramel
Any apple will do, doesn't matter what type
When the leaves are gone and branches are bare
Step outside and inhale the winter air.

Bridge collapsed

August 1, 2007

After the movie

About a cooking rat

My cousin, aunt

And I went

To get ice

Cream. Walking through

The mall, everyone

Was gathered by

TVs. The phone

Lines were busy.

Frantic panicking consumed

The population of

Minnesota. My cousin
and I had
a sleepover that
night. It was
so much fun!
My aunt said
she couldn't get
home.

Joyce Sutphen Response

Joyce Sutphen’s poems are very easy to read. You read it once and you grasp the main concept. In her poem, “Listen”, it’s about how to listen. Her poem “Some Glad Morning”, is about spring coming one morning. This poem is one f my favorites of hers. It’s very pretty and my favorite stanza is “The clouds took up their positions in the deep stadium of the sky, gloving the bright orb of the sun before they pitched it over the horizon.”  The theme and the message of her poems are displayed in the title. Her poems speak of her life on the farm. Poems like “Girl on a Tractor” and “Just for the Record.” The poem “Just for the Record” is about stereotypes about her father being a farmer not being true. She writes, “No bib overalls over bare shoulders… he wore his dark suit as gracefully as Cary Grant.” In “Girl on a Tractor” she writes about being a girl working on a farm, “when it came time to work in the fields, I learned to drive a tractor at just the right speed.” She grew up on a farm in Minnesota so it’s cool that her poems relate to something so close to home. She illustrates that not all poems have to have double meanings. Sometimes poems can be beautiful by just being simple. I really enjoyed her style of writing. I’m a beginning poet but in the future I hope my poems can end up being similar to her style of writing and imagery.

Mornings

7:30
My alarm clock
wakes me up
artificially. I
lay in bed for those
first few seconds
not knowing anything.
I snap back to reality
and tumble out of bed.
To start a new day
with the same routine.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/robert_frost/poems/528