Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Red Russia

*Just to clarify for this assignment we had to follow a guideline (20 specific things that we had to incorporate into our poem) so if it seems a little funky that's why. Anyway, enjoy!*

Red Russia
Brandon Lazovic

Some days seem to me strange, almost a dream
They fade into memory like the Holocaust
Yet are always there, bursting at the seams
Visions cross of Putin addressing Moscow like Faust
As the Ruski’s march down Red Square
They shout Smert' vsem, chto protivopostavit nam (Death to all that oppose us)!
The guns in their hand quiet and controlled
I float above, awaiting their next move
A man named Laz stands amongst them yet alone
A future leader, waiting to pursue the truth
His red handgun holstered, waiting to speak
As it screams in the cities with a silencer
He crosses himself, muttering Pust' Bog miloserdiya (may God have mercy) under his breath
The gun whispers to him to continue on without fear
He continues on with his gun, without hesitation, causing death
His house is warm, the taste of bourbon heats his insides
He thinks to himself, Bary derutsya - u kholopov chuby treshchat (when the rich make war it’s the poor that die).
The golden bourbon clouds his thoughts
He imagines his wife, young and beautiful
The touch of her skin is delicate
He smells her perfume, his love for her infinite
Shots are fired in the distance
He could taste death on her lips, she was listless
He stood there as the snow fell, flaked with red stains
The Red of Russia. 

City Eclogue Summary



City Eclogue Summary
Brandon Lazovic

                For class this week we had to read City Eclogue by Ed Roberson. It’s a collection of poems by this author and is divided into several parts, the first of which is the chapter City Eclogue. In the beginning of this chapter the poems are ‘normal’ (as far as that goes). Something I noticed was as the poems went on the spacing between the words and sentences got more irregular. Since the title of the book is City Eclogue, it felt to me that it was done purposely to convey that the city was overcrowded and that nothing was quite routine. The sentence structure and thought process became more vague or limited with each story as well, only highlighting key words or phrases. Also there are many key things repeated in each poem, such as the planet, mirrors, eyes/sight, and the city of course. I’m not quite sure what they allude to, although maybe it’s supposed to elaborate on the scale at which we live (ourselves being tiny in comparison to a city or the world). As for the mirrors and eyes, my guess is that we see things everyday and it becomes normal to us. So much so that we take it for granted and live in the present as opposed to acknowledging the past or preparing for the future. The perspective also changes from more of a top, general view of everything to a more personalized view of an individual person’s perspective of the city, from the slums to the rich parties that some may have (as told in the last poem of this chapter).
                In the next chapter, Beauty Standing, it begins on a comparison to cities and oceans. The world is being polluted and as cities are built on the land Roberson states in one of the poems, “they are made   into land people pour into to colonize   as artificial reef is sunk next to dying corals on the sea floor   such as housing,” further emphasizing that as artificial cities are being made the natural beauty of nature is being destroyed. Throughout the chapter pollution and corruption are touched upon, talking about the pollution that cities emanate as well as the division between people (the rich and poor, the segregation of race, black being the prominent one). In this aspect a few poems follow a regular person who isn’t making enough money and is influenced to blame problems on blacks and even politics (as all politics try and focus on the values of people according to one poem). Most of the poems make the point to rhyme and the flow of words and the way they are worded doesn’t seem so fragmented and hectic, but rather makes it seem overwhelming in a sense as you read as it allows you to read quickly with a build up to it.
                The chapter after Beauty Standing is called The Open. The beginning of this chapter is extremely bleak, talking about fires and embers everywhere and a city basically burning down. As it continues all it speaks of a city in ruins, bleak, the history of it worn as the ambers settle and the years drag by. Death and the dead is commonly brought up throughout each poem, describing people as ghosts. This could allude to both the death of people as well as the death of culture in the city, the city becoming a ghost as most people move away in search of better things. One part of the very last poem in this chapter reinforces this, “ He wants to walk away from this. This rough odd luck how many in his make up brought---walking away from rope   irons    the capture--- up through him    his hair   the glide to his feet   the tendency to go fu’thuh in life   Somewhere a couple decent pair of shoes.” Things get bad enough and people leave in search of a better life, for a decent pair of shoes to wear on their feet. Not for wants, but necessities that are taken for granted amongst most people. Some can’t though as they are caught in bondage. This could be meant in a physical sense, but I feel as though it is more of an emotional sense or a financial sense. Everyone is too poor to leave, they have nothing waiting for them anywhere else and so they are caught in an endless loop of poverty.
                Next chapter is Ornithologies, and it’s kind of short compared to the other chapters. Basically it describes nature and almost praises it for its beauty and its peacefulness. It displays people living with nature in their city and the peace it brings compared to the busy lives of people in the city as their days converge on a time schedule. There really isn’t much else to say about it other than it’s a stark contrast compared to the chapter before it, maybe a prologue in the novel that the city is. Or maybe it’s even what the city became after the corruption and pollution that preceded it.
                The second to final chapter, Her Movement By The Moment In Occurrence, displays various human emotions, from love, primal instinct and survival, hate, and wishing for no emotion at all. It shifts from person intimate human contact to various geographical spots far away from civilization, from the Northern part of the globe to the vast blue sky. It contrasts between nature and human thought and how one is free and pure (nature) while the other is corrupted and destructive as well as ignorant (humanity). The final chapter, Eclogue, continues on, questioning human thought and if it is very far seeing and if we think beyond just the everyday norms that we come across every day. We do not as we kill the planet with our cities and way of life, destroying nature and the bounty that comes with it. “What can we say of our own that stand in Newark say   so far adrift from a chance to was   that the dirt on her feet cracks into sores the skin of her soles   and steps her in one more shit infection she has to kick, one more occupation of her body by her monkey rulers she will have to throw off into space   off her back   burned out but clear of starring habit.   Of her destroyed sun   say it endows the landfill   on which to build a new development   “We are the stuff of stars,” Sagan says.” In this context is seems that ‘she’ is the Earth and that all the terrible things happening to her are the effects of humanity, the cities that we produce, the pollution that is spewed about, and it slowly spreads from a little speck of dirt on her feet to sores and infections as it continues to grow.
                In short, a City Eclogue is a very diverse book of poetry. Each chapter correlates to a certain message and there are many allusions to be found in the book, from God (both Greek and Christian), to death, shadows, ghosts, culture, water/rivers and oceans, and a whole slew of other allusions. The main message is that the cities we live in are demonized, horrible environments that do nothing but harm ourselves, the way we think and act as well as the environment. The way the poems are written are thought out and different from one another in several aspects, and the main message is clear but has a depth of complexity to it that isn’t quite apparent in the first hand full of poems and the book conveys it to great effect.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Poem Packet #1

Poem Packet Explanation
Brandon Lazovic

                Just to give a brief explanation of what I’m writing about, in my creative writing class we are reading a poetry packet with various poets of differing style in its contents and are examining various aspects of the poems written. The first few pages of the packet revolve around William Shakespeare. Compared to his play works, I’m not a fan of the sonnets that he has written. My old AP English teacher had some distaste for him in that regard and always talked about the ‘conspiracy theory’ that revolved around Shakespeare. But I digress. In the sonnets that Shakespeare wrote his main topic of discussion was love. He goes about it in different ways, but he either points out the flaws in love or speaks of his undying affection towards his lover. Regarding the former an example of this is in one of his sonnets he speaks of his mistress’ features. “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lip’s red: If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hair be wires, black wires grow on her head.” In this excerpt he belittles his mistress, comparing her to objects that would not flatter most in their comparison to her features.
                Yet after 12 lines of bashing her looks, he goes on to say, “And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare!” After all of her faults, he still loves her because she doesn’t try to cover herself with makeup and what society deems to be beautiful. Moving onto the latter of the two methods he uses in his sonnets (at least in this packet) is his undying affection for his love. “With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st the wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks, that nimble leap, To kiss the tender inward of thy hand.” His description of his lover is that of a tender girl who is gentle and modest in the poem. Now that I think about it, it’s kind of ironic how he goes from bashing his mistress in the first poem to complimenting her in the second poem. This might have to do with himself having two women in his life (his wife and his lover outside of the marriage), but I could be wrong. Regarding the sonnets themselves they are, well, Shakespearian in the sense that they are in iambic pentameter with an ABABCDCDEFEFGG rhyme scheme with a resolution in the 13th and 14th lines. An example of this would be the “And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any belied with false compare!” considering the direction suddenly shifted in those last two lines, going from pointing out all the flaws in his mistress to saying he loves her for her natural looks.  
                Continuing on in the packet Harryette Mullen wrote the poem “Dim Lady.” This actually resembles Shakespeare’s poem regarding his mistress in a modern format. “Today’s special at Red Lobster is redder than her kisser. If Liquid Paper is white, her racks are institutionally beige. If her mop were Slinky’s, dishwater would grow on her noggin.” It continues on, but what I find unique about the poem is that it matches up line for line with Shakespeare’s. Those first four lines give the same descriptions of Shakespeare’s, regarding red lips, her breasts, and the hair on her head. Even the resolution is the same, “Twinkie has as much sex appeal for me as any lanky model or platinum movie idol who’s hyped beyond belief.” Even though there are more beautiful women out there he still loves ‘Twinkie’ as she lusts after him. Both poems point out the standards of beauty in their generations are overhyped and flawed and that women shouldn’t be following society’s standard of beauty as it is unfair and just a ridiculous concept in itself.

                The only other poem of recognition that we’ve gone over so far is Ted Berrigan’s The Sonnets. What I like about it is that at first the entire poem is just a jumble of fragmented sentences. I personally thought it was just a stream of consciousness as the poem would jump from idea to idea without connection. But what some of the people in my class realized was that there was more to it than just a jumble of words. I learned that the sentences weren’t in order and that it was like a jigsaw puzzle as you put the pieces together to uncover the bigger picture. In that aspect it was unique as I hadn’t seen a poem like that before. Our class got into the discussion of what it really means to be a sonnet. Ted Berrigan’s title The Sonnets didn’t seem very fitting to be quite frank. It didn’t have a rhyme scheme, or the iambic pentameter/10 syllables associated with a sonnet. It had the 14 lines though. So my last comment on all of this is what does it mean to be considered a sonnet? Or in a broader sense a poem? We may delve into that today, but general thoughts on the matter would be appreciated and welcomed! 

Broken Sonnet

Broken
Brandon Lazovic
Stranger, how you cast my feelings aside
The pain you cause is so unbearable
You’ve tricked my senses with all of your lies
It’s agony, near unrepairable
Traitor, fallen so low without a chance
No trust left to give, broken promises
Ushered without thought, yet I am entranced
Yearning for the past; you’re anonymous.
Villain, who left an abyss in my heart
Leaving me to drown in the cloying gloom
I’m shattered, but deception is your art
A cypress is planted, ready to bloom
Some days I wonder if this was a dream

My heart still beats, but is torn at the seams.  

Whole Sonnet

Whole
Brandon Lazovic
Darling, how you bring joy into my life
My days seem as though they are dream
Floating merrily without any strife
It all is better than it truly seems
Beloved, you brighten all of my days
I walk forward blindly, faults unnoticed
My mind is preoccupied, in a haze
I pacify you, my eyes unfocused
Dearest, my eyes are glazed and unseeing
Everything is fine, yet unrealistic
I cling on, unaware of you drifting
Sadly, our tale will finish as tragic
In the moment I feel nothing is wrong

Just as this siren sings my final song