Monday, April 28, 2008

Poetry 101


I have plenty to grouse about; to whine and complain about, but at the moment I'm feeling more wise and profound than grouchy and miserable. Because of this I think I'll share some thoughts that you may find useful rather than complain at length about something I can't change anyway. If you're as big a whiner and complainer as I am, then all this will seem very pretentious and you'll dismiss me as some dull old fart who should keep his thoughts to himself. I hope it's the former not the later, but either way..it's my freakin' journal and if you have read this far without moving on then you deserve what you get...so there!


When I was 22, I took my first writing course. It turned out to be a very interesting poetry class, taught by a wonderful woman, at a small Junior College. I had been writing what I felt was poetry since age fifteen and I knew it was time to polish up my meager offerings. We studied many of the classic forms of poetry and it taught me a great deal; including the fact that what I was writing was not always poetry…imagine my surprise!


In the intervening years, I have explored form, style, and structure in poetry and attempted to grow. In hindsight, I find most of what I learned in that first class has faded into the gray recesses of fading memory. However, there were two important ideas I learned that have stuck with me over the years. Two elemental points that pop up every time I talk to new poets or to young poets starting out. I pass them on because to me they have become the foundation for what poetry is built upon.


1. When poets first put word to paper it is more often than not an outpouring of personal emotion. Even though emotion is almost a prerequisite for poetry, if the writer becomes so immersed in their on emotive pathos or angst, they will lose the attention of the reader. Since poets strive to be read and are nurtured by the reader, it is imperative that the poet write as much of their inner directed emotion out of their work as quickly and quietly as possible; somewhat like an exorcism for poetic demons. These personal works, of course, can be saved in a file for future reference or reflection, but the thought of presenting them to an unsuspecting readership should be set aside. Instead, redirect emotion into a more universal language that lets your reader share in your experience rather than leaving them on the outside struggling to comprehend what feels like abstract emotional imagery. In other words, write from the heart, but in such a way that you let the reader become a part of what you have written.


2. Write about everything. Do not confine yourself to certain subjects when you write, let your mind draw on any and all situations. Sometimes riding in the car, walking down a street, getting on an elevator, waiting in an office, or any of a thousand other situations can trigger some very creative ideas. You may have to force yourself to do this the first few times and you may not think what you have written is of any merit, but keep it up. Repeat the process and discipline yourself to write about everything your senses can reach. It can reward you with some of the finest images you will ever apply to the page.These two simple ideas can make a world of difference in how you write your poetry and in how you view the art of writing. They have meant the world to me over the years I hope they can be of some worth to you as well. Then, if you find they work within your sphere of writing, maybe you will pass them on to the new poets you come across asking for insight and advice.


Okay, I've said my piece. I hope you found it of value..if not, well...they all can't be gems, right? So check back next time and I'll be back to my usual complaining self...I promise. Now go find something to do...it's time for my nap!


Your Faithful Reporter - RCat

Counting Stars

















On evenings when the air hugs me like warm, damp cotton,
While crickets and cicadas buzz among the branches of the oaks...
Or on those nights when my moist breath hangs in clouds on cool, dry air,
I find myself running through a familiar routine...
Looking into the indigo blue of a clear night sky...
Counting Stars

As a boy I lay in deep Bahia grass with the earth pressed against my spine,
Eyes wandering a night sky in search of alien craft and shooting stars...
Then as a teenager, confused, feeling lonely and incredibly small,
I could always find a quiet spot and a piece of starry blackness...
A personal place that never seemed to change and always invited me in...
To come and share in the vastness of a nighttime sea of lights...
Counting stars

Seasons cycle as sunset follows sunrise all with the rhythm of time,
And with it I became upright and tall and took my place among men...
And as I've aged I've had to make a great many decisions,
Some were good, some were bad, and for some the outcome is still unknown...
And of those that I thought were so right, many turned out wrong...
In reflection I'm tired and I hurt, longing for the sky...
Counting Stars

In the midst of the dull and sedentary sameness of my day to day,
I've rediscovered a part of my life that's brought me new joy...
Yet, as is the case with treasures found late, it comes with a price,
Time and distance act as walls that thwart a communion of souls...
Giving the rekindled flame of serenity an unwanted coolness...
Leaving me alone to gaze at the shared velvet blackness...
Counting Stars

In the hustle and bustle of humanity surrounding us each day,
And in the frustrations that follow and befall us every one...
With people reaching out from this smallness to cling to life,
I can take comfort in the daily arc and fall of each day's sun...
Awaiting the coming of Morpheus and his heavy cloak of darkness...
Knowing that distance at least can be forever bridged...
Counting Stars

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Elevator Scenes: Doors with Teeth

















I approach the beast once more…

It’s shiny jaws wait silently
I sense the razor edged teeth
It's waiting to chew me up
It's seen me again...
It pretends that it hasn't
I know it's seen me though
It always sees me...
It just better not seize me
I know it will try
It tries a vertical smile
It wants me to feel safe
It's there to help me
It's there to serve me
It's there to move me...
I need to get to the outside
I need to get to the street
I have to let it move me
It knows I hate the dark stairs
I quickly punch it's cold button
It comes to life
It growls gears and cable below
I feel the throaty vibrations
I feel them running through me
It resonates my skeleton
It's moving closer
I hold my breath
It stops
It moans and those jaws move
I watch them slide wide open
It's toothy salivating grin
It gapes
It's waiting
I feel my heart trying to explode

A head pops around the corner
"Hey...are ya' gettin' in?
I got laundry in the basement
and it's callin' my name!"

"Just hold that door!" I choke

I quickly cross the vicious maw
I avoid those jaws once more
I've made it into the waiting car
I've escaped death yet again
It's jaws close with a low hiss
I see my face reflected on the wall
It looks like it's swallowing me
I'm all at once dizzy and pale
It emits a knowing purr
I have to ride again back home
It's doors clamp shut
I shiver
It chuckles…

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Thanks, it was Fun while it Lasted






















One Wednesday afternoon
in 1982 or so…
somewhere around
2:37 PM EST…
in an unscripted version
of mass thought
started to change things…

while the population
of the U S of A went about
the daily activities of
life, liberty, and the
pursuit of big screen tv…
something subtly changed…
marking a change
forever…

we had been
at the pinnacle…
at the height of creation
and progressive thought…
but that stalled…
things slipped
toward the static…
it was the murky point
that marked the beginning
of another fall
of another empire…
and so we all blindly went
coasting into decline…

a myopic lot grown
satisfied with the status quo…
feeling we had arrived…
our society was at last where
it needed to be…
ranking among the greatest
of the greats…
fat and complacent…
comfortable and unchallenged…
there would be no further need
for higher education…
for discoveries in mathematics
or the explorations of science…

instead we fixed our sights
on societal order…
and turned to arguing
the ethereal points of religion
and the need for refined morality…
as the rest of the world…
in a foreign accent…
laughed behind our back…
plotting quietly…
working steadily
just beyond the fringe…
raising awareness
along with they’re levels
of progress, advancement,
and prosperity to match…
carrying on the shining example
we had offered in the west…

they learned well…
they moved ahead…
and while we all went about
our contented routine…
moving through the dull
and uninspired…
we allowed our complacency
to leave us all thrashing
in the dust…

a country full of willing
underachievers…
now a mirror of the
parade of civilizations
that have come before…

observe
the handwriting on the wall…
listen for that vast sucking sound…
and prepare for the next phase
as we all will
quickly become
one more historical footnote…
in the record of time…

R. C. Arquette
5/2/05

Dog Tails: Argus


















It was 1970
I was twenty
and still a few months
away from marriage and a family…
I was living in Gainesville Florida
home of the ‘Florida Gators’
and had moved into
a large two story house
with five other people…
most of whom were students…

a funny
and good natured Jim Kelly
was one of the roommates…
he brought with him
his big Saint Bernard,
an awesome looking animal
named Argus…

Argus…
a strong and fitting name,
was a large clumsy beast…
ordinarily sweet tempered…
who loved having
his chest pounded…

as this therapy was applied,
his back leg would
involuntarily slap the floor,
his tongue hanging out,
eyes closed, in sheer dog ecstasy…

Kelly raised Argus from a pup
so the dog was always
quite protective…
no one ‘messed with Kelly’
without having to deal with Argus…
we all knew of this trait
so we were careful not
to make any sudden
or threatening moves
around Argus…
of course, our idea of threatening
and Argus’ idea of threatening
were often open for interpretation,
as the following
will demonstrate…

we were a bunch
of grubby bachelors
with very little money…
so the big house we occupied
was devoid of furniture…
we also lacked the benefit
of a television…
Kelly borrowed a small
black and white set
from the guy next door
to have something
for all of us to watch…

one Saturday afternoon
about ten of we fellow mutants
were lying lazily
on the carpeted floor
in the old parlor of the house…
some sweaty sports event on the tube…
the little TV perched on the mantel…

the owner of the set showed up…
as luck would have it,
his set had blown up
and he was sorry,
but he needed his little set back
to watch something
he and his girlfriend
wanted to see…

we all groaned
all of us mildly irritated
at the turn of events,
but it was his set…
and he did say he was sorry…
so Kelly told him
to go ahead and take it…
one of the guys on the floor
unplugged it from the wall…
while unthinking our neighbor,
quickly stepped over Kelly
to grab his TV…

oops!…
the proverbial ‘big mistake’…
a large, silent blur
suddenly shot past
those of us on the floor…

it seems
our old friend Argus
had been lying quietly
in the next room
half snoozing…
he always seemed to keep
one eye open,
as he had this time,
when he saw the figure
of our unlucky neighbor
moving quickly,
standing tall over the prone…
[and in the dog’s opinion]
defenseless Kelly…

before he could
pick the set up
Argus bellowed one
ferocious bark
and bit down on the
guy’s right butt cheek…
he whipped his head
back and forth
violently…
our neighbor yelled…
surprised at the quickness
and ferocity of the attack…

his wallet went sailing
across the room…
the pocket and seat
of his pants were removed…
they flew in the other direction…
the seat of his jockey shorts
went with it…

Kelly sat up and grabbed
Argus’ collar, calling his name,
and pulled him away…
but not before he left
the guy’s bare butt bleeding
from a set of canine teeth marks…

we all sat numbed
and amazed by Argus’ defense…
our neighbor, tv in hand,
swung around with his back
to the wall and stared wide-eyed
at his glaring attacker…
Kelly quickly pulled the
big dog from the room
and put him in the
fenced backyard…
making his apologies
as he went…

the man’s voice wavered
as he said, ‘sure, okay,
guess I wasn’t thinking’…
Kelly was very apologetic,
saying he’d pay for
replacing his torn pants
and shredded underwear…
the guy numbly repeated,
‘sure, okay, guess I wasn’t thinking’…
as he grabbed the television
and quickly made his escape…
stumbling out through
the front door on rubbery legs…

there was a momentary quiet
as Kelley returned to the room…
he stopped in the doorway…
shaking his head…
I said, ‘I don’t think he’ll
be back here anytime soon!’
and we all broke up…
laughing hysterically…
remembering the look on his face…

at which point Argus,
having escaped the backyard,
came bounding back into the room…
he muscled past Kelly,
stopping at the front screen door,
and began barking furiously
at his departed target…
which of course just made us all
laugh even more…

this wasn’t the first time
Argus played the protector
and it wasn’t the last…
I’m just glad I was never on
the receiving end of one of his
shows of force!…

Nice doggie!….