The RHAN News Report
{VIDEO WILL BE BACK UP SOON AFTER SOME EDITING :D}
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
The Car-Hop
Line Stolen: "The grass shudders a little; maybe the wind passed through it." from Louise Glück's Before The Storm
The harsh chill of Fall attacks
my face, as i burst out the door, into
the gray lot.
The grass shuders a little; maybe the wind passed through it.
The cool wind keeps blowing, as I engage,
my new obstacle.
The transaction of not only the food, but
the feeling as well. A smile brings warmth
to the cold skin on my face,
that was left by the Fall.
The smile is returned, and I turn away.
Back to the chill of the Fall.
Back to the attack.
The harsh chill of Fall attacks
my face, as i burst out the door, into
the gray lot.
The grass shuders a little; maybe the wind passed through it.
The cool wind keeps blowing, as I engage,
my new obstacle.
The transaction of not only the food, but
the feeling as well. A smile brings warmth
to the cold skin on my face,
that was left by the Fall.
The smile is returned, and I turn away.
Back to the chill of the Fall.
Back to the attack.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The Destruction of Sennacherib
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
-- George Gordon, Lord Byron
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XPBgWI0O5M
I choose this song to reflect on this poem because they are both about war. The poem is about Sennacherib and the song is about America but they both have the same idea. They both describe soldiers rushing out to battle and poeple getting killed. The poem focuses more on the detail and ojects that are depicted but the song reflects upon the basic idea and thought of war and it's affects on this nation.
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
-- George Gordon, Lord Byron
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XPBgWI0O5M
I choose this song to reflect on this poem because they are both about war. The poem is about Sennacherib and the song is about America but they both have the same idea. They both describe soldiers rushing out to battle and poeple getting killed. The poem focuses more on the detail and ojects that are depicted but the song reflects upon the basic idea and thought of war and it's affects on this nation.
Breaking Up a Poem
"Vermin"
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
What child cries out,
"An Exterminator!"?
One dilligent student in Mrs. Taylor's class
will get an ant farm for Christmas,
but he'll not see industry;
he'll see dither.
"The ant sets an example for us all,"
wrote Max Beerbohm,
a master of dawdle,
"but it is not a good one."
Those children don't hope
to outlast the doldrums of school
only to heft great weights and work in squads
and die for their queen.
Well, neither did we.
And we knew what we didn't want to be:
the ones we looked down on,
the lambs of God,
blander than snow
and slow to be cruel.
-- William Matthewsfrom The New Yorker, 1997.
The way I broke up this poem was simple. I began a new line whenever i thought the idea or tone changed. I broke it up so that it looks how it is spoken. I always began a new line whenever there was a period or a quote and I also look for different descriptions and separated them, such as "blander than snow" and "slow to be cruel". I feel that this way makes the poem a lot easier to read and understand then if different ideas were crammed into one line.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
What child cries out,
"An Exterminator!"?
One dilligent student in Mrs. Taylor's class
will get an ant farm for Christmas,
but he'll not see industry;
he'll see dither.
"The ant sets an example for us all,"
wrote Max Beerbohm,
a master of dawdle,
"but it is not a good one."
Those children don't hope
to outlast the doldrums of school
only to heft great weights and work in squads
and die for their queen.
Well, neither did we.
And we knew what we didn't want to be:
the ones we looked down on,
the lambs of God,
blander than snow
and slow to be cruel.
-- William Matthewsfrom The New Yorker, 1997.
The way I broke up this poem was simple. I began a new line whenever i thought the idea or tone changed. I broke it up so that it looks how it is spoken. I always began a new line whenever there was a period or a quote and I also look for different descriptions and separated them, such as "blander than snow" and "slow to be cruel". I feel that this way makes the poem a lot easier to read and understand then if different ideas were crammed into one line.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Hot Tea: Daniel Halpern
Midafternoon.
Her canyon. Her house
a carriage house kind of,
set back
with a lot of glass
and wood stained red.
Tea brews
and the scent of Lapsang spins
from the open door with Leonard Cohen's
first album, the perfect
scent and voice
for any good year in the sixties.
She places chairs erratically
around the grass yard
and a few of us
sit down to discuss
the daily news,
a new generation
of drugs. Sunday afternoon.
She's a woman
whose boyfriends become best friends.
She still wears a dark kimono,
her hair flat black held
in a brightly colored lanyard.
She serves up wan vegetable cakes
and pale cookies from Canyon
Health. The sun
Won't budge, just
another extended afternoon:
too much light. Too much time.
Too much talk waiting
for the sun to move on.
Too much water coursing
under the bridge, too many streams.
Heat from the Valley washing over us.
The tea we sip frosts our shades.
The speaker's voice throughout this poem is soft but not very structured at all. The speakers voice seems to rapidly skip from idea to idea as if life was passing by his quickly. At the beginning, the poem is made up of very short lines but then the lines become longer as the poem nears it's ending. A new line seems to start when a new idea or snese is brought up. The voice is very calm and observant as a result of the observation of this life that the speaker is living.
Her canyon. Her house
a carriage house kind of,
set back
with a lot of glass
and wood stained red.
Tea brews
and the scent of Lapsang spins
from the open door with Leonard Cohen's
first album, the perfect
scent and voice
for any good year in the sixties.
She places chairs erratically
around the grass yard
and a few of us
sit down to discuss
the daily news,
a new generation
of drugs. Sunday afternoon.
She's a woman
whose boyfriends become best friends.
She still wears a dark kimono,
her hair flat black held
in a brightly colored lanyard.
She serves up wan vegetable cakes
and pale cookies from Canyon
Health. The sun
Won't budge, just
another extended afternoon:
too much light. Too much time.
Too much talk waiting
for the sun to move on.
Too much water coursing
under the bridge, too many streams.
Heat from the Valley washing over us.
The tea we sip frosts our shades.
The speaker's voice throughout this poem is soft but not very structured at all. The speakers voice seems to rapidly skip from idea to idea as if life was passing by his quickly. At the beginning, the poem is made up of very short lines but then the lines become longer as the poem nears it's ending. A new line seems to start when a new idea or snese is brought up. The voice is very calm and observant as a result of the observation of this life that the speaker is living.
Summer in the Middle Class: Daniel Halpern
All over Americait's suddenly
mid-July
We're chasing our sons around
the yard
with balls and sticks
We are lumbering
because we are overweight
and a little older
being survivors
of the baby boom
making good the legacy
At sundown
a million barbeques ignite
as if from a single match
Webers
Crestlines
international hibachis
and the sad slabs of meat
begin to emerge
from their various marinades
the tables get set
and the mosquitoes awaken
for the evening meal
When they have finished
what is rightfully theirs
the children are removed
from the tables
and the adults open
another bottle or can of beer
The evenings are special
this time of year
the heat finally bearable
the coals a coolish grey
dying into themselves
It's what happens in unison
that makes America America
the lights going off
the fluorescent show
of t.v. coming on
and then
the total darkness
The poem and the picture are very closelt related. The picture shows a family at a barbeque on a typical summer day. The family is together enjoying the pleasures of the typical middle class life that Halpern is portraying though his poem. That is why I like this poem so much, it reminds me of my early life as a child in my middle class family. This poem is like a story of my life in the past and Halpern has depicted a perfect picture of it.
Snapshot of Hué: Daniel Halpern
They are riding bicycles on the other side
of the Perfume River.
A few months ago the bridges were down
and there was no one on the streets.
There were the telling piles on corners,
debris that contained a little of everything.
There was nothing not under cover-
even the sky remained impenetrable
dat after day. And if you were seen
on the riverbank you were knocked down.
it is clear today. The litter in the streets
has been swept away. It couldn't have been
that bad, one of us saidm the river barely moving,
the bicycles barely moving, the sun posted above.
What i really like about Halpern's works is that he uses a lot of detail to create an image of what he is portraying through his ideas. Halpern wrote this poem in 1945 which is the time that Hué stopped being the national capital of Vietnam and a Communist government was established in the north. Halpern is trying to create the image of this city in Vietnam during a time of great conflict and is capturing the feeling of a somewhat deserted city and it's erie feeling.
In the beginning of the poem, Halpern describes the city as a fortified and deserted place. He also described what might happen if someone were to walk around in the city. At the end of the poem, he then describes how the city is cleaned up but the movement in the city is still very slow. I really like how Halpern created a picture for me and allowed me to somewhat play a story out in my head of the hostility of the city before and the peacefullness that it brings now
of the Perfume River.
A few months ago the bridges were down
and there was no one on the streets.
There were the telling piles on corners,
debris that contained a little of everything.
There was nothing not under cover-
even the sky remained impenetrable
dat after day. And if you were seen
on the riverbank you were knocked down.
it is clear today. The litter in the streets
has been swept away. It couldn't have been
that bad, one of us saidm the river barely moving,
the bicycles barely moving, the sun posted above.
What i really like about Halpern's works is that he uses a lot of detail to create an image of what he is portraying through his ideas. Halpern wrote this poem in 1945 which is the time that Hué stopped being the national capital of Vietnam and a Communist government was established in the north. Halpern is trying to create the image of this city in Vietnam during a time of great conflict and is capturing the feeling of a somewhat deserted city and it's erie feeling.
In the beginning of the poem, Halpern describes the city as a fortified and deserted place. He also described what might happen if someone were to walk around in the city. At the end of the poem, he then describes how the city is cleaned up but the movement in the city is still very slow. I really like how Halpern created a picture for me and allowed me to somewhat play a story out in my head of the hostility of the city before and the peacefullness that it brings now
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
