Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts

Monday, January 23, 2012

LIT 103A - Paper #1

This is really colloquial. Don't think I'll get docked for it; nor do I really care. XD
We had to translate Spenser to... something and then explain our choices.


Darlene McCoy
Michael Ursell
LIT 103A
23 January 2012
From Spenser to Valley Girl


Oh em gee[1], Cuddie, stop being depressed,
So we may fish for fine dudes to follow,
So we may pass this endless time in bliss.
You were like, so used to living the life,
The wet t-shirt contest[2] champion, that's you!
Now you keep life in you, and it, like, suffers.

Piers, I have tried so hard to live this life,
But like, all my t-shirts have ripped and worn:
And like, all my attractiveness is spent,
I've gotten a few boys, but gained a name[3].
Yielding myself makes life unfulfilling,
And like, wet games no longer numb the pain.

I will not participate in another frolic,
To indulge those boys in my youthful gifts,
Piers, tell me: What good does that do for me?
They take all the pleasure, I all the pain.
I relinquish the goods[4], and the boys come:
Like, what good may Cuddie gain; doing this?

Translating Edmund Spenser's “October” of the Shepherad's Calender into a different, stylized form is quite the task. I took great care in my translation processes and gave each of my choices considerable thought.
            I understood lines 1-18 of “October” to be a person expressing their anxiety about writing poetry, and questioning if writing poetry is a way to live one's life. I also understood from the rest of the poem that the creation of poetry is innate to human nature.
            I chose to translate Spenser's archaic language into a dialect of English that I find a bit archaic - Valley Girl Speak! My use of "like," "so," dudes," and "Oh em gee" are all colloquialisms found in Valley Girl Speak, and I am using them to represent Spenser's additional "y"s and "e"s, found in his archaic English.
            Since I decided to translate Spenser's work into Valley Girl Speak, I found that two valley girls discussing if writing poetry is meaningful in life does not comply with what I would imagine two valley girls discussing on a daily basis. They needed to be discussing something relevant to their lives, for the shepherds in “October” did so. To remedy this - I decided to translate a discussion of poetry and creativity into a discussion of sex and sexuality. It seemed more fitting to me - and it is not so much of a stretch. Creativity is innate to human nature; as is sexuality. Writing poetry points to a Golden Age, where neither war nor industry rules the workings of the world, and in Edenic images of the Golden Age, portrayals of sexual freedom and fornication abound.
            In Spenser's poem, he uses diction that evokes writing or poetic imagery such as, "rhymes," "ridles," and "Muse." I decided to use diction that would convey sexual imagery; mostly through the use of double entendres. Double entendres are not apparent in Spenser's poem, but I decided to take some liberties, for my translation is more modern, and the comedic value in the double entendres represents the change in culture from Spenser's time to the present.
            One of the few elements of Spenser's poem I decided to keep was his form. This poem is all in pentameter (except for line 6; it is 11 syllables, as it is in Spenser's original), for I feel that verse has the power to amplify a discussion, because it stands out from colloquial prose. While the diction of this poem is rather amusing, the subject matter is graver. A questioning of performing sexual acts and sexuality is one that many a person goes through - and is extremely important to a person's development, especially in the society of the present. A discussion of writing poetry and creativity was important in Spenser's time, for why would generally uneducated shepherds have thoughts on the subject matter otherwise? And furthermore: why would Spenser immortalize their discussion in his verse if it was not a well-discussed thought in his society?
            I hope that my translation of “October” will make it more accessible to more people, for the language has been modernized and made colloquial, and that it will raise a discussion about sexuality, as I feel Spenser's poem facilitated discussions about creativity. My translation changes the subject matter discussion, but I believe that the values given to poetry could be attributed to sex as well. My changes, when read with the original, highlight these analogous instances. I also hope that a reader of my translation enjoys themselves - for I enjoyed translating this work and would love to share a laugh with whoever decides to read it!


[1] “Oh em gee” is the pronouncing of each letter of “OMG”; an acronym used in the sending of text via cellular device, meaning, “Oh my God!”
[2] A “wet t-shirt contest” is a contest in which women wear thin t-shirts and then are sprayed with water, in order for their breasts to protrude behind the near-transparent cloth.
[3] Name, in this context, should connote, “slut,” or “sexually promiscuous young woman.”
[4] “The goods” is a common slang term used for the sexually pleasurable aesthetics of a woman’s body.

Friday, February 4, 2011

My Kind of Poetry

Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou
fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou
You'reabitch
You'reabitch
You'reabitch

YEAAAAAAAAAAAA-UHHHHH!

(Written about nobody in particular. lolcrackedoutbrain.)

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Lady of the Waves

Oh brave adventurer,
man of the seas,
oh brave adventurer,
are you ready for me?

You will succumb to my song
A bee attracted to honey
Become entangled in my web,
Pitiful insect.

Oh brave adventurer,
man of the seas,
oh brave adventurer,
are you ready for me?

My eyes glimmer of the sea
Deep, blue, and all-consuming
Are they comforting your soul?
You're already under my control.

Oh brave adventurer,
man of the seas,
oh brave adventurer,
are you ready for me?

Skin of the oceans,
worn pebble-soft by only time,
Feel it, touch it, revel--
Your life shall be mine.

Not paying attention?
A little entranced, are we?
Oh dear, there goes your mind,
Your ship, your life, your time,
Nothing can tame me you see--
For I am a siren of the seas.

Stargazing

The tail of a shooting star
Could take us quite far,
We could explore the cosmos,
We could travel on a path of stardust
You've earned my trust.

Could you take me to the stars?
Could we visit Venus,
maybe fall in love,
And then venture to Mars?

Would you take me dancing among the galaxies?
If you did, I bet the heavens would sing,
Our own cosmic musical,
Now, wouldn't that be quite the thing?

Through a black hole we'd go,
where we'd end up - nobody would know.
It'd be just you and me--
and I'd love for you to see--
that this is the way
the universe
was meant to be.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Halloween

The night has finally begun
it's a little dark, a little creepy
a little spooky,
a little
eerie.

I'm ready for action - ready to make my move!
I'm waiting
waiting
to get into
my groove.

I am set free!
and I start to prowl,
I set out on my quest
to uncover leftovers of the night's conquests

I'm blinded by my signal,
the glorious full moon,
oh, I know I'll be there soon.

My mask fits just right
not too loose, nor too tight,
I'm the perfect criminal, the best theif
I'm a beast in the night

I'll steal your heart - then I'll feast.

I continue my venture over the furry terrain
Can you hear the soft pitter-patters of my feet?
'cause I'm tryin' to be discreet.
I'm tryin' to be silent
I'm tryin' to be sleek

For I am a bandit,
I'm no mink!

Arrival at last!
My loot, it is vast,
Shiny and crinkly,
oh it makes my eyes glimmer,
but hey, that's how it goes--
'cause I'm a bandit
and I'm always a winner!

Tastes like victory,
oh it's so sweet,
peanuts and caramel,
chocolate and nougat,
oh!

I believe
that my mission
is complete.

Listen to the Melody

Pulse. Pulse. Pulse.
Beat. Beat. Beat.

Can you feel that rhythm?
Can you feel it in your feet?
Are your toes dancing?
Are your fingertips prancing?

Can you? Can you? Can you?

Stop.

A minute.

Just listen,
Just breathe,
Close your mind,
Open your soul,
and just listen.

Listen to the melody,
The song within,
Listen to the melody,

Listen to each note's flawless flow,
Become enveloped in an ocean of sound,
Let the chords intertwine,
Let their waves crash into you,
Relax your mind.

Become one with the notes,
Become one with your own musical world,
Let it uplift you,
Let it carry you to the places
Where eyes are of no use.

Listen to the melody,
The song within,
Listen to the magic born,
Of only the human heart.

Close your eyes,
Embrace the harmonies,
And fade away.

Your symphony is calling.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The Name - Ms. Hinkle

The apple,
that fruit that hit Newton on the head,
The apple,
that fruit that is so unbelievably red,
it reminds me of Cordova - CHS
reminds me of the dear friends I've left.

Now there's one particular friend--
one crazy soul to compliment mine,
and I've not seen her in such a long time...

but hey!
This is where the apple comes in again,
it's on a spit,
sizzling and crackling, over a dancing flame.

That dance is how a friendship came to be.
Kinda neat, though I know it's hard to see.

and the apple,
even after it's smoldering waltz,
is still red
and it can still surely bruise Sir Issac's head.
but now,
the once soft skin,
the membrane encompassing the juices within,
is not so smooth, or thin.

Is a roasted apple still the same?
It sort of reeks of only
smoke and ash.
The once gentle crisp
now has a lisp.
Oh! The apple's speech is impaired!

Now, the skin is leather, a diminished red,
it resembles something like the top of a cowboy's head--
Now, the fresh crackles are gone -
the apple is dead.
The smell of sweet spring no longer exists--
and yet,
science,
still persists.

Cindy and I -
in compliance
murdered an apple
in the name of science.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Collage Poem

Oh! Darling,
I will ask you this:
Can you spare a kiss?
Could you toss an embrace?
I'll be anything you ask and more

Oh! Darling,
I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
and oh!
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

Oh! Darling,
if you leave me,
I'll never make it alone,

and Darling,
This fear of lonely has got a hold on me,
So, Darling, I hope you see
by my broken phrases,
just how much you mean to me

My heart is under arrest again,
and I foresee no natural end

So Darling,
I'll live and I'll die
Hooked on you, my star,

and Darling,
I will be chasing your starlight
Until the end of my life.

Starlight - Muse
Undisclosed Desires - Muse
Oh! Darling - The Beatles
Semiotic Love - Blaqk Audio
Best of You - Foo Fighters
1901 - Phoenix
Death - White Lies

Repetition Poem

I smile
I laugh
I giggle
I glee

Then you notice me~

I'm confused
I'm shocked
I'm flattered

Then I agree~

Kiss.
Bliss.

Pause.

Think.
Think. Think. Think.

I frown
I cry
I'm scared
and I've got no idea as to why

I panic
I grow weak
No longer can I speak

Then it ends.

WOOSH.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Symphony of the Blue Roses

In the depths of my imagination
mystics do grow
they are blooms of a fantastical world
now tell me:
is there a reason
why
these dreams do not exist?

Oh blue roses,
on each petal hangs one of my hopes,
If you can be imagined
can you be created, can you be found?

Oh blue roses,
are you merely a fantasy,
a silly product of far too many daydreams?
Why is it that I cannot climb your stalks?

Each day,
I exhaust my strength,
I exhaust my mind,
I attempt to give life to my dreams,

I want nothing more than to see your petals,
soft and milky,
I want to see them whispering in the wind
whispering a sweet melody,
a melody of life, of love, of labor,
a melody of my world

I want to immerse myself in the symphony of the blue roses.

and so,
Each day,
I exhaust my strength,
I exhaust my mind,
I attempt to give life to my dreams,
and I'll be damned if I ever stop.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

In-Class Assignment #1 - Creative Writing

Alienation
As joyous as puppies and cyanide
A poison that slithers into a soul
turning an optimist to a cynic
in only one night's whole

Alienation
As perplexing as the idea may be
A hypocrite I see
in a man who denies the experience
of the lonely

Alienation
A test for brittle hearts
A challenge for weak souls
Can a man survive
on his own?

OH!

Darling, I hope so.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

My 80 Year Old Husband

Sometimes, he can be a real pain
Sometimes, he has no shame
A little noob,
A little goob,
but what a wonderful friend he can be
especially when we die killing a tree :]

Trey has been my buddy for a while... so since he reads this blog... this is a shout out to him!

Now off to beat him with my Holly Cane... bwahahahaha

Sunday, October 26, 2008

One of My Favorite Poems

Dancing

I wish I were dancing
Floating across the floor
He is wearing a suit
I, a gown
The music, sweet and melodious
Finds me twirling in a fantasy land
Filled with happiness
Laughter
Love
His warm embrace
Tickles my senses
And my heart surges forward
And then
As I am looking into his eyes
Searching every corner of his perfect soul
I stop
And realize that I'm not in a ballroom
Not in a gown
I'm just standing, staring into his eyes
And I'm dancing