Saturday, June 18, 2016

10/100: Visual Poem

Day 10: Compose a visual poem (a poem that looks like the thing being described), using words to draw the object in question. Length: one page 
Visualizing the object at hand will help you gain more insight into the natural “shape” of a poem. Poetry should be memorable, so start by imprinting a solid visual into the mind of the reader.

Visual Poem:




Friday, June 17, 2016

9/100: Postcard

Day 9: Send a postcard to an old friend, and write a 100-word message on it. What are some of the things you tell them that you wouldn’t otherwise have said? How does the picture affect the language? Length: 100 Words

Postcard:

Greetings from Portland!


Thursday, June 16, 2016

8/100: It Starts Here

Interestingly enough, I actually used to write quite a bit of poetry. I have a journal full of excerpts that I would write to support the pages of sketches that fill that book. I think this will be a nice reprieve from the more narrative creative compositions that I've been producing for a while now.
Day 8: Using a blank page, write a poem from the bottom up, beginning with the line “It Starts Here”. Then, read it from top to bottom when you’re done. What ulterior meaning does the poem have from reading it another way? What were some unintended results? Length: One Page
It Starts Here:

     that has opened my Eyes.
to this new World of mine–
     to this new World of mine,
     as I open my Eyes
     my spirit, my guide,
It starts here, breathes the Wolf–
     yet found in time, time.
The Bridge I could not find, find–
It was there!

     chime, chime, chime.
a haunting Chime–
Hands move forward, sounding, sounding,
     Into the blind.
Broken, falling, a steady decline–
It has broken here.

     is no longer mine, hidden by time.
has overcome this Search of mine–
Despair, I fear,
     I have yet to find.
the Bridge I could not find–
It crumbles here,

     Oh, my fragile Mind!
moving, shifting, entertwined–
Warped and curious,
     in my mind, mind.
this obsession, this search of mine–
It continues here,

     in time, time, Time.
what does not change, frozen–
What lingers,
     time, time.
a memory, lost in Time–
It starts here,

As it was Written on the Page 

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

7/100: Paper Trail

Given the recent events of the past 48 hours, this one seemed obvious to me.  No political speech, no hateful rhetoric.  Just, solemness and support for those lost in this pointless, heart-breaking tradgedy.
Day 7: Combine a newspaper article from today’s news with a famous poem. Choose ten phrases from each and superimpose them into a poem. This will really help you focus on the construction of the work, as opposed to the difficult creative process. Length: 20 Lines
An American-born man who'd pledged allegiance to ISIS gunned down 49 people early Sunday at a gay nightclub in Orlando, the deadliest mass shooting in the United States and the nation's worst terror attack since 9/11.

               Hear the tolling of the bells --
                     Iron bells !
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels

The gunman, Omar Mateen, 29, of Fort Pierce, Florida, carried an assault rifle and a pistol into the packed Pulse club about 2 a.m. Sunday and started shooting, killing 49 people and wounding at least 53.

       In the silence of the night,
       How we shiver with affright
  At the melancholy meaning of their tone!

There has been no claim of responsibility for the attack on jihadi forums, but ISIS sympathizers have reacted by praising the attack on pro-Islamic State forums.

       And the people--ah, the people--
         They that dwell up in the steeple,
              All alone,
         And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
            In that muffled monotone,
         Feel a glory in so rolling
            On the human heart a stone--
       They are neither man nor woman--
       They are neither brute nor human--
              They are Ghouls:--
         And their king it is who tolls ;
         And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
              Rolls
            A pæan from the bells!

People inside the cavernous nightclub described a scene of panic made more confusing by the loud music and darkness.

         And his merry bosom swells
            With the pæan of the bells!

Mateen called 911 during the attack to pledge allegiance to ISIS and mentioned the Boston Marathon bombers, according to a U.S. official.

         And he dances, and he yells ;
       Keeping time, time, time,
       In a sort of Runic rhyme,
            To the pæan of the bells--
               Of the bells :

Christopher Hansen said he was getting a drink at the bar about 2 a.m. when he "just saw bodies going down." He heard gunshots, "just one after another after another."

       Keeping time, time, time,
       In a sort of Runic rhyme,
            To the throbbing of the bells--
            Of the bells, bells, bells--
            To the sobbing of the bells ;

The gunshots went on for so long that the shooting "could have lasted a whole song," he said.

       Keeping time, time, time,
            As he knells, knells, knells,
       In a happy Runic rhyme,
            To the rolling of the bells--

Thirty-nine people and Mateen were pronounced dead at the scene, with two bodies found in the parking lot, Mayor Buddy Dyer said. Eleven people were taken to hospitals and pronounced dead there

         Of the bells, bells, bells--
            To the tolling of the bells,

Dyer, the mayor, called for the city to come together. "We need to support each other. We need to love each other. And we will not be defined by a hateful shooter," he said.

      Of the bells, bells, bells, bells--
               Bells, bells, bells--

President Obama called for flags to be lowered to half staff and Florida Gov. Rick Scott called for a moment of silence across the nation at 6 p.m. Sunday. States of emergency were declared for the city of Orlando and for Orange County.

  To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

Source: http://www.cnn.com/2016/06/12/us/orlando-nightclub-shooting/
Source: "The Bells" by Edgar Allen Poe

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

6/100: Gender Swap

Day 6: You wake up as the opposite gender. What are your immediate reactions? What do you notice that’s different, and how do you experience the outside world differently? Word Count: 500
Gender Swap: 
Walking effortlessly along the back of a mighty blue whale, high above the clouds, as I––then, cries.  Soft and muffled at first, then sharp and desperate.  My eyes burst open, the dream is gone.  I adjust to the dimly-lit rays of the dawn, streaming through the skylight above me.  It is morning, and our one-year old child is letting us know he's awake.

I roll to my left to wake up my wife, and nearly fall out of bed.  Catching myself on the nightstand, I push myself back onto the mattress and let out a chuckle.  Somehow we switched places in the night. I turn back around to let her know when I suddenly realize I'm in bed alone.  She must have woken up early for a morning run. I feel a twinge of resentment come over me as another cry fills the hall space between our bedrooms. I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and look down towards the floor. That's when I notice it.

My toenails are painted.  ...my toenails are painted?  What the hell?

Another impatient cry.  He heard me, the sly little devil. He'll be relentless now. Any chance of drifting back off to dreams of riding Falcor across the sky of La-La Land is a lost cause. I'm awake, I'm awake...and apparently someone had a bit of fun with me while I slept.  As I stumble out of bed and down the hall to little Damian's room, sweet thoughts of revenge swell up through my mind.  I can't help but wonder, what other stunt did she pull while I was dead asleep last night?

I open the door to our child's room and am greeted with huge, eager smiles.  Usually he's more interested in seeing his Mommy first, but today appears to be an exception.  I gleefully pick him up out of bed and carry him downstairs to prepare our breakfast. Strangely enough, he seems heavier than usual.

We proceeded through our normal breakfast routine of cereal and sliced bananas as the white noise of the morning news played in the background. It wasn't until I reached for my coffee, that I truly noticed it––my hand. It wasn't mine. I stared at it, not sure what to think. It seemed surreal, but there it was; my wife's left hand, wedding ring and all, clear as day. My stomach lurched into my throat.  "What was happening?  How could this be?" I thought.  I rushed into the bathroom and flipped on the light, only to find that I was staring at not myself, but my wife's reflection in the mirror.

Panic set in. Beads of clammy sweat formed above my brow. I felt sick, nervous. I didn't know what to do. That's when I heard it.  One, simple word.

"Mommy?"

Instantly, my reflection didn't matter. The panic was gone. Our son needed his Mom. Stepping out of the bathroom, we exchanged smiles. Only his needs mattered.  Everything else would be sorted out in time.

Monday, June 13, 2016

5b/100: I Can't Believe I Just Said That

Consider this entry a Mulligan of the previous. One, because I didn't really obey the directions last time. Two, I didn't explain any feelings of mortification, or any feelings in general about it because, well, I didn't have any.  It was mainly written for entertainment value and now that I think of it, didn't really apply to the assignment outside of being a puff piece of entertainment. So let's disregard that last one and start anew.
Day 5: Write about a moment when you said or did something extremely embarrassing or accidentally insulting. Go into detail about the feeling of mortification, and how you felt after you said it.
Does this help exorcise the guilt/embarrassment at all? Can you imagine a fictional character going through the same process? Length: 350 words
 I Can't Believe I Just Said That:

"I have the keys to the Chief Marketing Officer's penthouse suite."

This is one of those situations where a seemingly innocent piece of information snowballs into a shitstorm that I couldn't have reined back in if I tried. It nearly got me fired, cost me hundreds of dollars and even lost me a few friends.

I was in San Francisco for our company's annual conference.  Since I was to conduct interviews with some of the attendees, our CMO graciously provided me with the key to his penthouse suite in Union Square's Westin Hotel for the set. After the conference, a few of us went out with the the remaining attendees, where I mentioned to our lead sales associate that I still had the keys. I was firm that only our immediate group was to be invited, and was assured that all would be okay. An hour later, that room held nearly 100 people and growing. Four cash bars were completely emptied. Furniture was broken. Prostitutes were invited up by our own employees, leading to the theft of my phone and three other company laptops. At 4am, I began to survey the damage. I was absolutely terrified.

I didn't want to return to work. I didn't want to look my boss in the eye and explain what I did that night, how it got so far out of control. I was ashamed, embarrassed. I betrayed his trust, something I can never take back. I wanted to impress everyone that night. I wanted them to know how cool I was for having access to the top of the world. I could barely apologize to our CMO, I was so mortified. ...HR spoke with me about what happened. There was an investigation over the stolen equipment. It was an awful experience, and I still get sick to my stomach thinking about it.

In time, it would all fade away. I learned a harsh lesson from that experience, one I still carry it with me to this day. I have my own reputation to uphold now and much more at stake. Call it, perspective.

5a/100: I Can't Believe I Just Said That

This is a hard one.  Though, not because I'm unwilling to divulge some story of how I've embarrassed myself in one way or another, but by all accounts, I have way too many to share. Those that know me understand that I've said and done many-an-embarrassing things in my day...so many, in fact, it's a hard pool to choose from.  Do I tell how I learned (on multiple occasions) that I can never drink Jägermeister again? Or, how about that time I found myself streaking through the midnight streets of Downtown Chicago while broadcasting to passers-by (with a rancid Scottish accent, for extra effect) that I was running to Michigan?

I think the majority of people go through a time in their lives where parties and recreational drinking is a priority, real-life responsibilities take a backseat and the momentum gathered to embarrass oneself approaches terminal velocity.  Following a few failed relationships and a general disconcertment towards myself, this period in my late-twenties maybe lasted little longer than it should have.  I wish I could take a lot of it back, but it was a learning experience for me and in retrospect, necessary for my path in life. This provides ample material for stories of embarrassment. Ample. But, I'm going to pull a special one out of this bag.  This tale is about the time I got wasted at a funeral.
Day 5: Write about a moment when you said or did something extremely embarrassing or accidentally insulting. Go into detail about the feeling of mortification, and how you felt after you said it.
Does this help exorcise the guilt/embarrassment at all? Can you imagine a fictional character going through the same process? Length: 350 words
 I Can't Believe I Just Said (Did) That:

Growing up, our next door neighbors Chip and Sue had an annual party called The Big Chill. They made t-shirts, screened movies, brought in beer from all over the world, and partied unapologetically for a full 48 hours straight with friends from all walks of life. In December of 2003, Chip died from cancer. Without hesitation, his family decided to turn his funeral into the Final "Big Chill."

We danced and laughed long into the evening. We were all drinking heavily, but I remember a particular moment when Chip's youngest son handed me a glass of milk mixed with Jäger he had smuggled over from Europe. It was the most delicious concoction I had ever tasted. Of course I drank three of them. I later discovered that this particular variation of Jäger had been infused with opiates...and that's when I took off to Neptune. Let me break it down for you:

  1. I tried to climb the outside of the house like Spiderman, claiming I was, yes, Spiderman. 
  2. I drunk dialed my parents. They were still at the party. 
  3. I hid silently under a table for 45 minutes. 
  4. I crawled into the fireplace and shouted, "Look, I'm a gnome!" repeatedly.
  5. I accidentally broke into the neighbor's house, thinking I was returning to the party. For ten minutes, I walked from room to room, wondering where everyone went. Said neighbor came downstairs in his bathrobe and politely asked me to leave, baseball bat in hand. 
  6. I danced like an absolute maniac. 
  7. As I was leaving, my friend's mom asked me if I broke into her neighbor's house. I had almost completely forgotten about it by that point and just responded, "Yeah, I think so." She laughed and hugged me. 
It wasn't my proudest moment, but we've all had plenty of laughs about it since, considering the events that surrounded that night. It was a hell of a way for Chip to go out and I'd be honored for my friends to celebrate my life with half that enthusiasm.  ...maybe just without the Jäger.