Response to Concept: 11/4/19

Even though I already wrote about negation in my previous post, I wanted to focus more on how silence affects negation. Silence is the key to negating all outside distractions and focusing on the important. Zapruder states, "It is the silence that draws me into speaking." (202) I can empathize with that greatly. When it comes to everyday situations, I tend to open up more around typically "shy" people. I feel more of a sense of comfort around those who are demure and quiet and allow space for my voice to shine. It is not to say that I am completely in my shell around loud people, but it definitely takes longer for me to open up around this kind of person. When it comes to writing, I feel the same way. It is much easier for me to be drawn into writing when it is completely silent. It is through the silence where I feel I can finally breathe and pave my thoughts onto paper.

Poem Response-"Women's Locker Room" 11/2/19

I will try to focus on the aesthetics of this poem such as the visual appearance and also focus on the actual content. On paper, the poem has such a beauty to it. The stanzas are all the approximate length with the exception of one seemingly shorter than the rest. The way it is formatted sparks the allusion of storytelling. While reading the actual poem, it feels like the readers are being told a story, one of which is uncomfortable and obtrusive. As someone who hated locker rooms in high school, I can contend with this uneasy situation. I remember specifically trying to find a bathroom in which I could change rather than changing in the dreaded locker room. Besides the point, there are phrases that call back these uncomfortable memories. Phrases like "childhood taunts, branded ears" remind me of the annoying teens who shuffled in the locker room after health class. Not only does it depict the emotion so accurately, but it also paints pictures in my mind which I would never have imagined. The phrase "divide like an amoeba into twin rages that stomp around" is quite simply remarkable. The way it flows off the tongue is beautiful, the lyrical sound rings in my ears, but it is also the imagery which is wowing. I can just imagine an amoeba dancing trying to find its twin. The poem does a great job of making a connection between completely unrelated things, and I loved the format of telling the story.

New Poem: "Ode to the Rose" - 11/4/19

Oh thy rose

as red as ripe wine.

Your succulent taste stains

my teeth with your floral aroma. 

Oh thy rose 

with such petals that

fly to meet men’s pink thighs.

How your sweet touch 

makes men believe.

Oh thy rose 

with spirits that waft

into one’s senses.

Intoxicating, enriching the young mind.

Oh thy rose 

with an edge to

such gentle nature 

that pricks wavering hands.

Oh thy rose,

You are melted sin 

that heats my supper and burns

my raw lips, yearned to be smoothed.

Oh thy rose,

Your sweet kiss stains

my lips with red ink and I taste 

your tongue curling in me. 

Oh thy rose,

You are open like a blossom

waiting for its bee to sprinkle

yellow feathers onto soft skin.

Oh thy rose,

You whisper kindly 

cloud dreams drifting

down to touch wet earth.

Your soft skin,

delicate at the touch,

when rubbed too firmly,

tatters to tiny red babies

that yearn to be touched once

again. Oh thy rose with such

beauty and prose, you are the

symbol of red lust. Your name

a reminder of the flower between thighs.

How it must be cared for gently. 

You are pure as snow but tainted with blood

that is rich, thick syrup. I nuzzle my nose in 

your center and find such a smell unique to 

all men. Why it is not sweet nor bitter. My nose

tastes your gentle hand pushing me further.

Oh thy rose with soft petals. When rubbed

your sweet color stains my white hands. Your

touch is gentle and fresh. You are everything pure. You are

everything, my pure desire. You are the heart of

all romantic pursuits. You are the love

which I dream. And when my lover opens thy door,

I will greet with your blossom of beauty.