F-list, I need your help! I'm writing a chapbook - partially just because I want to and partially as a way to give creative Christmas gifts this year - and I'd really like some people to read what I have and give me some feedback.

It's a total of about 30 poems. They're generally short and are by no means dense reading. Besides, you can read as much or as little as you want. They're split into two seconds: one set called Songs of Orfeo (based on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice) and another called Qualms (or, Society).

Any and all help is VERY MUCH appreciated. :) Comment or message me with your email address if you'd like to be a reader. Also let me know what/how much you want to read. Thank you in advance!

Don't you love it when someone remembers you? It's a beautiful thing.

I went to cash a check at the bank today and the teller asked me if I'd looked into wiring my money to Europe yet. I'd been at the bank a few days ago and inquired about sending money to Europe for my glorious AUSTRIAN ADVENTURE. Apparently it was the same guy. And he remembered me! And he was pretty good looking. Glorious!

He asked me where I was going and what I was studying.

"Austria for opera."

The conversation abruptly ended with an uninterested "oh." WHY DOES THE WORD "OPERA" TURN EVERYONE OFF SO FAST?!? I don't understand this. Does opera = boring in some subliminal way? Granted, I thought it was boring and didn't care two cents about it until I saw Marriage of Figaro. But, still! I could have said "astronomical geology" and gotten a better response. Am I doomed to singleness forever because I'm an opera singer? Ahhhh!

On another note: I babysat Tammy's 6-year-old kid Rainer on Sunday. What a trip that was. The kid's a frickin' genius.

We played Stratego and he won. I'm relatively smart and pretty good at strategy games (I'm undefeated at Risk and almost undefeated at Monopoly) but this kid WHIPPED me. He watched what I was doing and said, "My dad uses the same strategy. He attacks in groups, too." He also made comments on what he guessed was happening on my side of the board and 80% of the time he was dead on. I had a few tricks up my sleeve, but not enough to win (apparently).

He could build these really intricate Lego ships without instructions. He used the pieces in ways that I've never seen before. It was crazy. And he understood the word "hydraulics." What the heck?

Sure, he still acted like a 6-year-old sometimes (he refused to eat peanut butter with bread; he wanted to eat it with a spoon), but he was incredibly smart. I've babysat a lot of kids, some of them pretty smart, but this kid tops them all. I'm kind of scared/interested to see what he'll do in ten years.

STAR TREK: I saw the movie and I liked it. It wasn't "Star Trek" but it was good as its own thing. The cinematography was outstanding and I really liked the characters. Bones rocks the house!

Question: Has anyone ever read Rainer Maria Rilke's "Sonnets to Orpheus"? I will have to talk about them when I finish. They are so incredible...

Sidenote: This cracked me up. Opera Chic writes: "Please don't tell Stephen Colbert that an Iranian who, suspiciously, always wears sunglasses and has been denied in the past a visa to the USA went to France to direct a show about marital infidelity and Albanians written by a Jewish heretic/Catholic priest obsessed by sex and by an Austrian kid obsessed by p00p."

This of course refers to Abbas Kiarostami's Così Fan Tutte. Ahhh, OC always makes me laugh. That is, OC and any reference to Mozart. :)

This is a meme that I meant to steal from mcollinknight a while ago.  Here's the rules:

Put your iTunes on shuffle and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first is the title.

Considering that all my music isn't in English, I've provided translations in parentheses.  Here's my beautiful poem:

In principio omnes (In the beginning)

Alleluia!
Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.
I woke the dawn, saw horses growing out of the lawn.
Bald prangt, den Morgen zu verkünden. (Soon it [the sun] gleams to announce the morning)
Once upon an average morn, an average boy was born for the second time.

Notte e giorno faticar. (Night and day I toil)
Riconosci in questo amplesso. (Find in this embrace)
Can I say "I'm sick"?
These things which I so often wonder,
Searching high with a yellow soul.

Praise and love and open skies,
Someday, when I'm awfully low,
Lay down your sweet and weary head.
Sull'aria.  (An air [song] to the breeze)
You've got to know by now that stepping in and out will bring you down.

In every life it has been said,
Sitting up on the roof,
Down on my knees,
"You're nobody 'til somebody loves you."
It's not like they meant to hurt me.


That was interesting.  It's funny how the entire first stanza has to do with day/night.  The day/night thing continues into the next stanza and then things change.  It was fun!  You should all try it.

 I'm trying something different today
prose is so old
or too powerful a sword to wield
no 
this is not "good" poetry
is it poetry?
e.e. cummings?
whatever

I've got Rice Krispies
in the keyboard
down my shirt
there's nothing else to eat!
I'm a full-blown
college kid
I'M STARVING
haha
not really
those poor kids are starving
I'm just a spoiled brat
who hasn't eaten
or wanted to eat
or remembered to eat
for many hours
are RK healthy?

I've been snooping around
LJ
and found someone I know
but don't really know
ever have that happen?
is it considered "stalking"
to read without their knowledge?
do I have a moral obligation to tell them?
or to friend them
or to comment with my name?
will it scare off their honesty if I
unveil my presence?
I don't know
suggestions welcome

I'm missing a possibly
"important"
moment in history
the future president is at my school
and I'm not
I mean,
what's the point?
if I'm there
I'm just a few miles closer to them
and yet still just as far
(metaphorically)
I can't get anywhere near anything
so what's the point of being there?
I might as well use my time well
(by being on LJ - haha)
studying and practicing at home
and chillin' with my Dad
who's working hard
(hurray)
on our kitchen
--hence the RK--
no stove
no microwave
no toaster
no way to make lunch
he says
"there's cereal in the back room"
thanks Dad
apparently he's not worried about me
becoming anorexic
or something crazy
at least someone isn't
just because the culture's vicious
doesn't mean that EVERY GIRL
is prone to eating disorders
if anything
I have the opposite problem:
I don't care enough about what I look like
I'm a happy pear-shaped girl
but I do love my pilates
<3

I think this is just lazy journaling
yes
sometimes "creativity"
is just an excuse
for laziness
hehe
it was fun anyway

I slaved over this Shakespearean sonnet for school, and guess what?  I never shared it with anyone!  What a sad waste...

I actually do have "my life" stuff to post on here BUT I don't have the time right now.  I'll get to it...soon.  I only have one final and it's tomorrow.  After that, I'm FREE!  Yay!  Then, I'll post my stuff.  Until then, you'll have to settle for these 14 lines of garbage beauty. ;)



My friend, I love how you extend your arms.
Your openness astounds me, shakes my mind.
Curiosity, intellect– your charms,
They call to me.  Some name me stupid, blind.
Your love is everywhere, in everything:
Your laughter, chiding, conversation, smile...
Your love is easy, soft as dove on wing.
But I fail; I can’t make it down the aisle.
Platonic is my love.  (That’s not antique!)
Our friendship is a spider’s lacy web–
Attenuated, shimmering, unique–
As candlelight: a wavering, an ebb.
A girl, one day, will call herself blesséd.
Until then, I shall leave these things unsaid.

I am the moon and my Beloved is the sun
My radiance is bright for it is you I fear
I shall love you, dear, as long as rivers run


You and I, we are one
Where I am, you are always near
I am the moon and my Beloved is the sun


When all the fights remain to be won
I promise not to disappear
I shall love you, dear, even after the rivers cease to run


You hand me garments finespun
I am unworthy; I deserve burlap, not cashmere
I am the moon and my Beloved is the sun


We will not be outrun, you will never be undone
I feign to shed no tear
I shall love you, dear, even after the rivers cease to run


I know that the journey has only begun
So much lies before me: the mountain-top, the climb, the nadir
I am the moon and my Beloved is the sun
I shall love you, dear, as long as rivers run