Poetry Journal #12 - Let Me Die a Youngman's Death

Let me die a youngman's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party

Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death

-Roger McGough


It's clear that in this poem, the speaker is speaking of himself and the intended audience is the world at large or a deity who has control over fate. It does not seem to be a prayer or plea to god, since the sincerity of he poem is somewhat in question due to the humor involved.

The Speaker desires to die a "youngman's death" which, since death does not often strike the young, he interprets to mean one that is dramatic, not easy or slow, most specifically not a "what a nice way to go" death.

The Speaker clearly has somewhat of a disdain for the slow, natural and peaceful death that the majority of the world claims to seek. He prefers the options of being mowed down by a red sports car, being shot by gangsters, or being murdered by his wife for committing adultery.

Overall, I think that his message is that there is as much life in the method by which you die as life you live beforehand. He wants his death to be an event worth of the life lived beforehand, not a quiet passage into the next world.

This poem reminds me of the quote:

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave
with the intention of arriving safely
in an attractive and well preserved body,
But rather to skid in sideways,
chocolate in one hand,
wine in the other,
body thoroughly used up,
totally worn out and screaming
"WOO HOO what a ride!"

CAI Lab 11/20 - Love Poem & Erotic Poem

In any poetic form (free verse, sonnet, ode…) try your hand at writing a poem that expresses love. Try to find the precise, concrete language that touches the unmistakable source of feelings you have for someone. Your poem can be about any kind of love, not necessarily romantic love. Remember: in the course of the poem, never use the word love.

Imprisoned

I keep you
in the deepest
most labyrinthine
corridors of my chest
where the darkness
does not meet
the red

I hold down the ropes
and chains that keep you trapped
in the empty chambers -
arteries to keep me alive

But the tiniest movement
or sound you make
reverberates
until all I can focus on
is you

My grip weakens
red bleeds into black
and you fill the hollows of my heart.

*********************


Take any everyday activity (washing dishes, making the bed, changing the car oil, cooking a meal, skate boarding, surfing) and describe the activity using concrete, sensuous language. The poet walks a fine line here: s/he doesn’t want to mock the activity, just present it in a sexier light.


Starting the Car

It's a bitter cold morning,
frost on the windshield
and a hazy white layer
lays over the dark blue paint
hiding its metallic glitter
from the sun, reluctant
to meet the sky, still peppered
with fading stars.
I press the button on the key,
the locks respond
with a soft "click" to let me in,
and the warm glow of the dome light
bathes the interior of the chilly cabin.
Each ridge and valley of the key
finding purchase in the hollows,
I turn my wrist to begin
the ritual of raising the dead.
Deep, rumbling groans emerge
from under the frozen hood,
the dashboard flickering,
fading in and out.
I turn again, I turn harder,
pumping the gas and flicking my wrist
I continue the careful rhythm.
Lights staying on longer,
engine whirring higher
With a final rush, life returns.
Its heart roughly beating
coated with thick, rich oils
coaxing it to run,
Lights sparkle - beacons of life
from the darkness of the dashboard.
With my foot on the gas, I think,
Thank god starting you
Is easier than starting the car.

Poetry Journal #11 - Pale September

Pale september, I wore the time like a dress that year
The autumn days swung soft around me, like cotton on my skin
But as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared
My heart went cold and only hollow rhythms resounded from within
But then he rose, brilliant as the moon in full
And sank in the burrows of my keep

And all my armor falling down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as I'm singing him to sleep

He goes along just as a water lily
Gentle on the surface of his thoughts his body floats
Unweighted down by passion or intensity
Yet unaware of the depth upon which he coasts
And he finds a home in me
For what misfortune sows, he knows my touch will reap

And all my armor failing down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep
All my armor falling down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep

-Fiona Apple

In this poem, or song, I think that the speaker is describing her relationship with a man, though is not speaking to him or to herself. I believe it to be somewhat of a musing, and the audience for the song is simply any objective third person.

It seems that the speaker has experienced a shift in perspective, in her life, as evidenced by the change in seasons and temperatures of which she speaks. She moves from autumn and winter to summer, and from winter and cold to warmth. In this poem, I think she is using autumn and winter to describe an emotional distance. She states that she wore "[Pale September] like a dress that year" which would imply that she in wearing a sense of dying or solitude, as autumn is symbolic of a time of lonliness, moving into the winter. This is further supported by the "embers of [her] summer" disappearing, and her heart going cold. She is implying an initial move from warmth and love to one of coldness, until the next lines where he "rises as the moon in full," which moves us into the chorus. In this respect I think the song shifts gears several times. It starts off speaking of autumn, then backtracks a bit to talk about the move from Summer to autumn, then proceeds to winter, and then finally, as she enters the chorus, we are moving back into warmth. I think that this is symbolic of Spring, a time of rebirth.

In the chorus, she sings "All my armor falling down" which to me is symolic of the "autumn dress." She is letting go of that lonliness and solitude which she wore to protect herself.

Poetry Journal #10 - Set the Fire to The Third Bar

I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from A to where you'd 'B'
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places

I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've felt so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science

Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms

After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep it

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms

-Snow Patrol

The song seems to be about the cold and lonely feeling of being a long way apart from someone you love and "we'd set the fire to the third bar" about the increased warmth you would feel if you were with them.

I love the clever use of double-meaning words and sounds in this song. For example "the distance from A to where you'd B" should be "be" but is referencing point A to point B, and she sound of the vowel "A" is not so different from how one would say "I" so it vocally sets the impression that there is distance between two people.

I also really enjoy how the "words" of men are "just noises" and yet, her words in his memory are "like music." It really paints a haunting picture. While I do not believe that the lover's object is dead, there is somewhat of a tone of death in the song's chorus. The speaker wants to lay down on "the cold ground" which is somewhat reminiscent of a grave. He also prays that "something picks me up, and lays me down in your warm arms." It almost seems as though he is soliciting a benevolent spirit to intervene and bring him into the afterlife where his love lives.

I've always been confused by the line "Set Fire to The Third Bar" which is also the title of the song. After much research, I'm assuming that it refers to old-fashioned style electric heaters which had a series of heat-emitting bars- the 1st bar would give you gentle heat, the second slightly higher, the third even warmer and so on. So if his love is still alive, it seems that he is asking for intense heat, intense love and passion between the two of them.

11/6/08 CAI Lab Assignment - Blackbird

i

In a drawer
solitary, and solid black
is a meaningless ring

ii

In a drawer
solitary, and solid black
is a meaningful ring

iii

Ring fingers on the left
also on the right
but only one that matters

iv

Rings on trees
to count their age
but our rings speak nothing,
nothing of time passed

v

Round and round
never-ending, a ring
is meant to last
forever

vi

The ring finger
is placed closest to the heart
mean to symbolize love,
a connection

vii

I can roll a wheel, a ball
and yet a ring does not move

viii

Thousands and thousands
of dollars on rings to be
evidence of one's love
for another

ix

I cannot place it on my right hand
because there, a ring means nothing
and does not fit

x

Each ring is stamped
with a grade to rate the quality of metal

xi

Should a ring of love
ever be graded?

xii

In champagne
in a cake
a ring is almost always
the sweeter treat

xiii

You can impart everything
into a ring
or you can impart nothing.
But only you can impart meaning

Poetry Journal #9 - Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

-Maya Angelou

I really like this poem. It's clear that this poem is defiant, and delivered with supreme confidence. The speaker of the poem is clearly one who has been trod upon by life and other people in it, and is still standing or "rising" up to them.

The speaker is clearly a woman, and in addition to speaking of her strength, she speaks of her sexuality with lines like "diamonds at the meeting of my thighs." She has clearly been looked down upon not only for other attributes, but also for her gender as a woman. So her defiance in this subject is pride on being a woman.

I find the rhythm of this poem interesting. It starts off with four-line stanzas that provide the poem with a very even rhythm, and rhyming abcb pattern. However, at the end it switches to almost free-verse with internal and external rhymes, and a very different pattern interrupted by the lines "I rise." I appreciate this poem greatly, but I almost feel that the last segment could be broken out and made its own poem and both would stand very strongly independently.