through order we survive.
hold the line
hold your tongue
keep your marching order
soldiers of our time
we hurry here to wait
we hurry to survive
in war
we must conform
the sameness, the unity, the brotherhood
no, not a place for the poet
or one freedom inclined
see once an unruly spirit
he crumbled to the road
trodden over by the boots
there from time to time
the dust wafted up
the men called forth
and spirits left behind
i say again,
through order we survive
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Friday, April 17, 2015
two unrelated thoughts
as children we are encouraged and laid upon with praise for insignificant feats. We are constantly told how wonderful, how talented we are. this turns out to be unfortunate for those of us who the grow up, and turn out to be... how shall i say? lackluster. then where are we left. in the dirt with our failings, and self misery about the illiterate wretches we truly are
&()*^%$$$$$%%%^^&&&**(()))(*&^%$#@@!!@@##$$%%%^&&*(*()
memories. memories that we remember from our years are curious- the ones that stick with us, valuable. sometimes they can be ones that push us forward, and remind of of our worth- especially if it is one where we did something to receive praise. i can remember in my 8th grade english class we were reading the great gatsby. it was the first time i was introduced to the vast symbolism and available literary interpretation that can be present in decent to more than decent pieces of literature. i found a depth of symbolism and connection that mt young mind did not even know existed. i found it astounding, how much is more to a book when you read in between the lines.
we took a test on the book, and there were many questions that involved assessing my knowledge of the symbolism and i can remember the words and thoughts and ideas swirling around in my head, and i was rushing to write it all down, my handwriting becoming somewhat illegible. i remember concluding on one something i remembered from a soap opera i had seen from when i was maybe 7 to ten years old. a woman saying, "how can i love you if you can't even love yourself." and i made some reference to the fact that how can nick love anyone, Jordan when he can't even love himself... in reference to his extreme criticalness of other people and of himself.
my teacher was astounded by the wealth of knowledge i had imparted to my sheet of paper. her face i remember, the expression. it was like she was thinking, she's got it and she understands. and i was told that i had done the best on the test out of the entire class because even though my wording was somewhat dysfunctional, (a result of trying to get it all down) and not even having the highest grade, i had understood in a way other students had not.
&()*^%$$$$$%%%^^&&&**(()))(*&^%$#@@!!@@##$$%%%^&&*(*()
memories. memories that we remember from our years are curious- the ones that stick with us, valuable. sometimes they can be ones that push us forward, and remind of of our worth- especially if it is one where we did something to receive praise. i can remember in my 8th grade english class we were reading the great gatsby. it was the first time i was introduced to the vast symbolism and available literary interpretation that can be present in decent to more than decent pieces of literature. i found a depth of symbolism and connection that mt young mind did not even know existed. i found it astounding, how much is more to a book when you read in between the lines.
we took a test on the book, and there were many questions that involved assessing my knowledge of the symbolism and i can remember the words and thoughts and ideas swirling around in my head, and i was rushing to write it all down, my handwriting becoming somewhat illegible. i remember concluding on one something i remembered from a soap opera i had seen from when i was maybe 7 to ten years old. a woman saying, "how can i love you if you can't even love yourself." and i made some reference to the fact that how can nick love anyone, Jordan when he can't even love himself... in reference to his extreme criticalness of other people and of himself.
my teacher was astounded by the wealth of knowledge i had imparted to my sheet of paper. her face i remember, the expression. it was like she was thinking, she's got it and she understands. and i was told that i had done the best on the test out of the entire class because even though my wording was somewhat dysfunctional, (a result of trying to get it all down) and not even having the highest grade, i had understood in a way other students had not.
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