Epiphany

I do not have a strong ability to understand poetry. Most of the time poetry makes me feel as though my brain is going to implode on itself erasing my mind from my body. When I sit down to read poetry I do so with immense determination. I gather all of the powers of my mind, my logic, intelligence, memory, and problem solving skills. With weapons in my mind (haha) I attempt to decipher the debacle in front of me. As I gather my force of will I charge and I am left sprawled on the floor hoping I don't have a concussion. This may seem slightly dramatic to some people, but these are my true feelings about poetry. Now I am sure anybody could imagine the sense of despair I had when I learned that I needed to read an entire book of poetry, a whole one hundred and thirty-six pages. I felt defeated before I even started.
After I read "City Eclogue" by Ed Roberson I was kind of impressed with the compilation of poems Roberson presented. I honestly did not understand much of the meaning behind the words Roberson used, but I realized instead that I did feel the emotion in the poetry. And that is my profound epiphany. I realized that maybe you don't have to understand everything, that perhaps some things were made to simply be enjoyed. I feel like I understand Roberson's pain and struggle not because he gave me a word for word detailed schedule of his life, but because he used poetry to display his emotions. He displayed his emotions through the use of detail and through the way he styled his poems.
One of my favorite poems in the book is called "14"(p. 75) and I love it because of the intense imagery that is used. It is hard to determine what Roberson is actually talking about, but there is an overwhelming sense of grotesqueness that I get as I read. Roberson writes, "there   if that is a baby's nipple then this red  tear to pieces of brick." It as almost as if the author is implying that the baby is being teared to shreds by the brick. The image is horrid actually and inspires a painful feeling. Roberson also talks of, "the buried placenta,"and "a delivery stillborn." The delivery of a stillborn child is possibly one of the most painful things a woman could experience. The image of a buried placenta makes me feel as though the child was doomed to death from the beginning. Roberson ends the poem with the line, "born as it's thrown away." It reminds me of abortion for some reason. There is a huge sense of loss in this poem and everything feels as though it is wasted. I feel the emotions in this poem whether or not I understand exactly what he is talking about.
One of my favorite lines of poetry by Roberson is from the poem "Psalm" (p. 112). Roberson writes, "I was pounding on the streets as on a table    buildings jumped and lives fell over and shattered." I love this because I can see he is in an uproar. His rage fills the streets and it is a giant that reeks havoc on the people and the buildings. It is interesting how he says, "lives fell over and shattered", because it points to the fragile state of humanity. Roberson feels, perhaps, that something as simple as his rage could shatter and break lives. I just love the imagery in those lines.
Roberson wrote a poem called "Sit in What City We're In" and in this poem I love his description of mirrors. I love it because I can read it and I can almost see the mirrors physically in front of me. Throughout the poem there is a deeper meaning, but I just love the simple description. He writes, "felt sovereign self locked together in the mirror's march from deep caves of long alike." I think the imagery of the caves is interesting and when I imagine looking into two mirrors at once I see the caves too. Later Roberson says, "a street cobbled of the heads." This image is interesting too. He uses the imagery of cobblestones to give his audience a picture of infinity.
Overall, I ended up enjoying Roberson's poems. His themes throughout the novel seem to be anger and suffering. Sometimes his mood shifts and he is a little more light, but mostly he wants to scream his rage.

Finding my Voice

After reading Goldberg I look at myself and realize that in order to write amazingly I have a long way to go. I am inspired by her understanding about what it takes to make good writing, but I realize that it is more work than I expected. I believe that I am in the group that believed that having a certain formula  for writing would automatically help you create a masterpiece. I would sit writing assignments and pieces of work as if I was making a puzzle. I thought that if you had the correct "flow" and organization that beauty would emerge out of structure. But now I think again and I realize that true, awesome beauty almost always is the product of chaos.
I love when Goldberg talks about first thoughts. Goldberg states, "First thoughts have tremendous energy. It is the way the mind first flashes on something. The internal censor usually squelches them, so live in the realm of second and third thoughts." Second and third thoughts are usually lifeless and boring and oftentimes the majority of writing is filled with them. Goldberg goes on to talk about how our egos get in the way of first thoughts because we all want to control our writing so that we present perfection to the world. And then another thought popped into my mind, "When has anyone ever been perfect?" How can we attempt to present perfection to the world when we are not perfect to begin with. Writing, good or bad, is only a regurgitation of who we are as people. Writing is our experiences reinterpreted into words and understandable language. We cannot present perfection because then we would be presenting something false and that would make for bad writing. Everyone knows when we are being false.
When I begin to write about something, whether it be an experience that I had or a story I dreamed up, I always end up stuck after a paragraph or so. I just never feel like my writing does justice to what I see in my head. I find that my writing lacks true feeling and at that point I feel kind of hopeless and I give up. Why should I try when everything I see in 3D sounds as flat as this paper when I attempt to write it out? At one point in her book Goldberg talks about, "that moment you can finally align how you feel inside with the words you write; at that moment you are free because you are not fighting those thing inside." This is what I long for in my writing. I want to be free.
I realize that in order to be free in need to learn to trust. The two words that are used the most throughout Goldberg's writing are trust and practice. I always wondered what it truly meant to find your voice in writing and now I finally understand. Your voice is just simply who you are translated into written language. Goldberg tells us that in order to find your writer's voice you must learn to trust the thoughts in your head. The only way to trust is to practice your writing. I love how Goldberg started at the bottom and worked her way up. You can't be the best without hard work and there is always room for improvement. I love that writing reflects our reality. There is always something to learn in the world. I hope that I can learn to trust my writer's voice, but I realize that it will take time, maybe years and years. I am willing to find that time because there are things inside me that I want to share with the world one day.
On a different note, after reading the poems in the poetry packet I found that I have a hard time understanding poetry. I am sure I understood the poem, "Still Life", but I think that is because I know what a still life is.  I like what Goldberg says when she talks about learning poetry in school. She states, "Poems are taught as though the poet has put a secret key in his words and it is the reader's job to find it." This is so true! I always approach poetry looking for a secret and because of this I can never enjoy it. I also liked the reinterpretation of Shakespeare's sonnet 130. I think that the whole point of the sonnet is beautiful. The message is that even through someone's faults love still sees their beauty. It doesn't matter if it is 1500 or 2012, that type of love transcends time. I love the difference in the imagery used. Where Shakespeare talks of "roses" and "perfumes", Dim Lady talks of "mouthwashes" and "garlic breeze". Detail really is everything and even though these two author's are saying the same thing they have completely different voices.

My first blog ever!

Hi my name is Alyssa and I have a three month old son named Isaac. I'm going to Eastern to get my nursing degree. Writing has always been intriguing and enjoyable for me. I love the idea of using words to create different worlds that allow people to step away from their own realities. I feel a certain release when I read a novel because my worries become invisible as I experience the world inside my book.