Tuesday, October 19, 2010


SO, for my class this week, I have to write a poem. It was assigned last week, a poem that mimics anything about these four poems we had to read for class, but besides that it can be about anything. Just to let you all know, I don't write poetry. The closest thing I come to writing poetry is an occasional haiku about how I hate poetry. I know, I don't really hate it, but I sure don't enjoy writing it. I wrote one the other day, and I'll share it with you all so you can have a good laugh. Because if this blog is good for anything, it might as well make you laugh everyone now and then.

I want to live here.

The silence is only

disrupted by faint

tap tap taps

of keyboards and

worn pages turning.

The dust I could live with.

The quiet would not bother me.

I sit in a place where others have sat

and will continue to sit

for decades,

for lifetimes and more.

The English weather does not touch me here,

but I can see it.

Vaulted windows show the outside world,

the spires of the colleges,

the domes and stone walls I

formerly only dream about.

And I did dream.

I dreamed.

I've been dreaming.

Red leaves blow outside.

Tourists tirade in throngs.

But not in here.

Here I'm surrounded by all my friends,

old and new.

I'm safe, I'm happy.

A tiny bell rings, time to go.

The corridors empty.

I'll be back tomorrow.

LAME LAME LAME LAME. It's so cheery and predictable! Poems are supposed to have depth, to be seen all sorts of ways and affect people. THIS crap is clearly about a library (actually, I'm not even sure if that's clear or not) and not anything else. LAME. On top of all that, it does not in any way mimic things done in the poems we had to read. SO I can't even use it as a backup in case I don't think of anything better. And what's with the stanzas? 6, 6, 6, 3, 6, 3 lines in each? What kind of structure is that? A MADE UP ONE THAT'S WHAT. Sappy, lame, made up, that's how I write poetry.

On top of this, my house is dripping. Dripping with wet clothes. I will never again in my life EVER take for granted having a washer AND a dryer. We have no dryer, and right now the washer is sort of broken so when it gets to the end of the cycle where it spins most of the water out of your clothes, it spins super fast and hard and shakes the whole house and moves the washer out of the wall and you have to turn it off or it will surly eat someone. Man eating washer. This used to happen sometimes in Morgantown, but I feel like all we had to do was restart it or something and it was cool. Well, this is certainly not cool, and I can't get to any sort of restart button or even the plug. So, sopping wet clothes are hanging off of everything that you can hang cloths off of because I waited ages to do cloths, including bed sheets on doors and jeans on the banister.

Happy Tuesday everyone. Despite my drippy existence at the moment and inability to write poetry, it's a good day. A friend of mine told me a while ago that I'm in a good-day time in my life, so even when things are not going well, it's still a good day. I'm going to this one women show tonight where she is going to read her poetry accompanied by a jazz band or something like that, not too sure. Should be weird and awesome. Hopefully hearing poetry will inspire me to write poetry, but as Phillip Pullman said, I need to learn how to write even when I'm not inspired. Working on it.

I'm out!



foobella said...

Little Mia, I didn't realize the poem was about a library. I thought it was about your house until the end when I realized it was about some public building. But I think that's a good thing, no? You don't want it to be too obvious. =)

About that washer. Speaking from experience, and being rightly scolded by your grandma, sounds like you have overloaded the washer or the contents were off balance (too much stuff to one side). You just have to open the lid and move things around. Unless, it's one of those side loaders where you can't open the door until the wash is done. Those washers suck. Never buy one. Plus, you can't dye cloths in them, which I am very fond of doing.

Lynz said...

You've contacted the landlord about the washer, yes? It's their duty (by law!!) to ensure everything is working inside your property. I'm assuming it's a side loader (since 99% are over here!) but can't think of anything easy-to-fix it could be. Plenty of suggestions if it's just not spinning properly (Aunty Foo's quite right about uneven loads!) but my only experience of dancing-all-over-the-place was a terminal machine. Like I said, landlord!! Make a pest of yourself if you need to!

P.S. Foo? You can *totally* dye in a side loader! Else I'd be lost!!

Tanner said...

You should be able to adjust or shim the feet of the washer so it stays stable. To get the A+, get a level and level it in at least two 90-degree opposed directions. Ours was taking walks a while back (and you should have seen the mad setup in the laundry room at that house I had with Justin).

Also: you only think you're bad at poetry. I failed my poetry assigments... in high school.

Kelsey Austin Threatte said...

quit it lady! man oh man this blows my mind. I just want to live inside your head sometimes! Ok that sounds creepy, but whatever. I really like the line "Tourists tirade in throngs" and about sitting in a place that is so connected to the past and future. Ugh, awesome. I love you and you are going to speak to my future students. Just sayin'