Denver rhetor project
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Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Hearts Attraction Through Poetry
Join in the Café:
We all want to be in a room full of friends
Where we can speak freely and the support never ends
A place were speaking your mind isn’t a crime
And asking for advice doesn’t cost a dime
Here in this room people no longer work
Inside every heart a poet does lurk
And in every word the poet may choose
Inspiration for others, they become a muse
Like music to ears, or moths to flame
The song of a soul makes another soul tame
With every moth the fire grows in size
Hoping to become as large as the skies
In each person there is a story to tell
Each story is unique; it comes from under the shell
Up at the mic, you just let loose like you don’t care
So when it is your turn what story will you share?
What Poetry Is:
Simple words,
Complex detail,
Hitting a nerve,
Making you feel.
No limits,
No restraints,
Speak to the heart,
As the heart speaks out loud.
Drawing you in,
Making you think,
Acting as a muse,
Being inspiration.
Expression of self,
Asking you to sing,
Wanting to know you,
Please won’t you speak?
My own inspiration:
Life can be a cruel master and when you play by the rules
You find life has taken the short cut and left you behind,
What are you to do, do you just sit and wait for it to come back for you?
Well let me tell you, it’s all in your head
Life is all you have and it won’t leave you behind
Life is what keeps you moving
We have created a world of facades, a complex life full of stress
It only holds you back
When it gets you down, what are you to do?
You call yourself weak, because you can’t handle it
In realizing you are weak you allow yourself to step outside
You realize the façade, but you can’t escape
So what is it that you do?
You put your big girl panties on and man up
It’s all will power!
Description of poems:
Poetry is a classical form of literature that has been passed down through the ages, dating back all the way to even before the time of the Greeks. Poems were believed to originally be sung. While today poems are generally read or performed the intensions have remained the same. Poetry is made up of certain words strung together in some form that provokes an emotion from its audiences. At a local Denver event, an open mic night is put on at the Mercury Café every Friday night, for poetry readers, writers, listeners, and performers alike. Everyone’s poems are unique and each one calls for a different exigency, and to a different audience. The community of this venue also has its own exigency in trying to find more members. In trying to achieve this goal the poetry read each week is used as a tool to attract people to the art. In drawing on people's thoughts, emotions and interests the venue hopes that people will return bringing friends to become new members of such an inspiring and high context community.
I have written three poems to express the open mic night at the Café and there exigency. I have chosen poetry because by using poetry I am mimicking how this community tries to achieve their goal of expanding. This community is still growing and it is important to the individuals who take part that they see more join their inspirational group. In order for this group to fulfill their exigency more members of surrounding communities need to join and commit themselves to the growth of this new community. In the description of each poem you will find that poetry has several different levels of attracting listeners and therefore it helps to spread word and inspiration. Hopefully this inspiration is the kind that will make individuals want to join in.
In the first poem "Join in the Café" I talk about the Mercury Café. In the first few stanzas, I talk about how at the Café you are surrounded by friends. These people will treat you with great respect and give you all of their support even though you might be meeting them for the first time. This “society” is a very high context community whose only wish is to grow and expanding. In the second stanza, I discuss how at open mic night no one is stuck in their every day disguise of their profession, but they are all showing their true selves as poets. As poets they become muses, in which they help inspire their audience to feel and join in the expression. In the third stanza, we see that this attraction between muse and artist creates more poets. With more inspiration there become more muses who inspire more poets and so on. This cycle only adds to the fulfillment of the exigency of the community in that their population will grow through the spread of their inspiration. The final stanza raps up with trying to get my own audience involved in becoming interested with poetry and expressing themselves.
The second poem “What Poetry Is” was short but worded carefully. This type of poem uses its simplicity to capture the audience’s attention, and without a proper title the poem can be very vague. This poem in particular was about poetry and poems in general. It basically says that poems ask for expression from both the performer and the audience, and it can inspire the audience to become the performer.
The third poem “My own Inspiration” was what I was inspired to write about after attending an open mic night at the Café. By simply sitting in the audience listening to beautiful, powerful strings of words this was created in my head. The poetry at the Café was not simply spoken but it was preformed, and in such the meaning was amplified. Though I choose not to perform my work I have chosen my words to still hold great significance and an equal impact in whatever manner they are spoken. This poem is intended to inspire the audience to get motivated. Even when the odds are against them and life has become nothing more than a bully, it is within them that the strength comes to stand up for themselves. This motivation is to keep them moving through life simply because if you let life get you down then you miss everything else that goes on around you.
We all want to be in a room full of friends
Where we can speak freely and the support never ends
A place were speaking your mind isn’t a crime
And asking for advice doesn’t cost a dime
Here in this room people no longer work
Inside every heart a poet does lurk
And in every word the poet may choose
Inspiration for others, they become a muse
Like music to ears, or moths to flame
The song of a soul makes another soul tame
With every moth the fire grows in size
Hoping to become as large as the skies
In each person there is a story to tell
Each story is unique; it comes from under the shell
Up at the mic, you just let loose like you don’t care
So when it is your turn what story will you share?
What Poetry Is:
Simple words,
Complex detail,
Hitting a nerve,
Making you feel.
No limits,
No restraints,
Speak to the heart,
As the heart speaks out loud.
Drawing you in,
Making you think,
Acting as a muse,
Being inspiration.
Expression of self,
Asking you to sing,
Wanting to know you,
Please won’t you speak?
My own inspiration:
Life can be a cruel master and when you play by the rules
You find life has taken the short cut and left you behind,
What are you to do, do you just sit and wait for it to come back for you?
Well let me tell you, it’s all in your head
Life is all you have and it won’t leave you behind
Life is what keeps you moving
We have created a world of facades, a complex life full of stress
It only holds you back
When it gets you down, what are you to do?
You call yourself weak, because you can’t handle it
In realizing you are weak you allow yourself to step outside
You realize the façade, but you can’t escape
So what is it that you do?
You put your big girl panties on and man up
It’s all will power!
Description of poems:
Poetry is a classical form of literature that has been passed down through the ages, dating back all the way to even before the time of the Greeks. Poems were believed to originally be sung. While today poems are generally read or performed the intensions have remained the same. Poetry is made up of certain words strung together in some form that provokes an emotion from its audiences. At a local Denver event, an open mic night is put on at the Mercury Café every Friday night, for poetry readers, writers, listeners, and performers alike. Everyone’s poems are unique and each one calls for a different exigency, and to a different audience. The community of this venue also has its own exigency in trying to find more members. In trying to achieve this goal the poetry read each week is used as a tool to attract people to the art. In drawing on people's thoughts, emotions and interests the venue hopes that people will return bringing friends to become new members of such an inspiring and high context community.
I have written three poems to express the open mic night at the Café and there exigency. I have chosen poetry because by using poetry I am mimicking how this community tries to achieve their goal of expanding. This community is still growing and it is important to the individuals who take part that they see more join their inspirational group. In order for this group to fulfill their exigency more members of surrounding communities need to join and commit themselves to the growth of this new community. In the description of each poem you will find that poetry has several different levels of attracting listeners and therefore it helps to spread word and inspiration. Hopefully this inspiration is the kind that will make individuals want to join in.
In the first poem "Join in the Café" I talk about the Mercury Café. In the first few stanzas, I talk about how at the Café you are surrounded by friends. These people will treat you with great respect and give you all of their support even though you might be meeting them for the first time. This “society” is a very high context community whose only wish is to grow and expanding. In the second stanza, I discuss how at open mic night no one is stuck in their every day disguise of their profession, but they are all showing their true selves as poets. As poets they become muses, in which they help inspire their audience to feel and join in the expression. In the third stanza, we see that this attraction between muse and artist creates more poets. With more inspiration there become more muses who inspire more poets and so on. This cycle only adds to the fulfillment of the exigency of the community in that their population will grow through the spread of their inspiration. The final stanza raps up with trying to get my own audience involved in becoming interested with poetry and expressing themselves.
The second poem “What Poetry Is” was short but worded carefully. This type of poem uses its simplicity to capture the audience’s attention, and without a proper title the poem can be very vague. This poem in particular was about poetry and poems in general. It basically says that poems ask for expression from both the performer and the audience, and it can inspire the audience to become the performer.
The third poem “My own Inspiration” was what I was inspired to write about after attending an open mic night at the Café. By simply sitting in the audience listening to beautiful, powerful strings of words this was created in my head. The poetry at the Café was not simply spoken but it was preformed, and in such the meaning was amplified. Though I choose not to perform my work I have chosen my words to still hold great significance and an equal impact in whatever manner they are spoken. This poem is intended to inspire the audience to get motivated. Even when the odds are against them and life has become nothing more than a bully, it is within them that the strength comes to stand up for themselves. This motivation is to keep them moving through life simply because if you let life get you down then you miss everything else that goes on around you.
Night of Poetry at The Merc Speaks to Wide Array of Human Experience
Poetry, especially slam poetry, is a coercion of language and a careful choice of diction used to articulate events of life which carry immense loads of emotional implications with them. They can also seek to bring to light simple and often overlooked realities. In the next piece, I tried to highlight a few different experiences which most people go through which may be large events or everyday occurrences in order to show how they fit together.
My name is ______. I drift through the halls of my life glancing out of the windows from time to time. My glances breed guilt for they are quick and greedy. The things I see, they are things I could have, they are things I’ve had. Out one window a boy lays in the sun on a green shag carpet as alive as the sparrow cutting swaths through the air above him. His heart is smiling the smile of an infant who senses a moment of truth in your handicapped expression of love.
We don’t love. We smile and wave afraid that expression of true emotion will reveal the truth about our status as damaged goods. If that status is known then we have revealed the status of our perceived callousness as a façade.
All shields down.
My name is ______. I drift through the halls of my life glancing out of the windows from time to time. My glances breed guilt for they are quick and greedy. The things I see, they are things I could have, they are things I’ve had. Out one window a boy lays in the sun on a green shag carpet as alive as the sparrow cutting swaths through the air above him. His heart is smiling the smile of an infant who senses a moment of truth in your handicapped expression of love.
We don’t love. We smile and wave afraid that expression of true emotion will reveal the truth about our status as damaged goods. If that status is known then we have revealed the status of our perceived callousness as a façade.
All shields down.
A thousand times I have passed this window and glanced quickly out and moved, even more quickly, on to my life in stride. My denial of truth. But today the sun rose, I know because I watched it, and I stand and gaze at this boy on the lawn and I feel my heartbeat. Pulse pulse stop.
I move on to a new window to see what else I have been rushing past. My heart drops in sync with the same boy from the last scene who now stands emotionally bled out in front of a girl who has stripped him until there was nothing left through her gilded promises and clever rhetoric. He blindly committed his heart through closed eyes at first kiss. He learned about emptiness as her blank eyes passed over him in the street while her bloody hand laced its way into another, not his. Tears are the sutures for his heart and I feel a need for them for my own as I look on. My heart goes off again but I feel the beating from a different area. Beat beat beat beat beat….done.
I don’t want to go on anymore. When emotion is exhausted one questions God. My feet halfheartedly try to return to stride and my left side becomes illuminated as if the new light through this new window dictates which appendages of mine exist in the recently pitch colored void of my life. There is my friend again. A new piece of him is visible in his strength. His mark of Cain plays testament to the periodical firing of his clay heart. I see these times in his life and they give me back my heart. Like a sonata each of these moments are keys and leaving out a key is leaving a masterpiece undone. He has pulled me out of my shell with his rhetoric and like the smile on a young child’s face he has shown me unadulterated beauty.
For the first time in a long time, I feel my whole heart. With open eyes I look out the window, climb through and join life.
I move on to a new window to see what else I have been rushing past. My heart drops in sync with the same boy from the last scene who now stands emotionally bled out in front of a girl who has stripped him until there was nothing left through her gilded promises and clever rhetoric. He blindly committed his heart through closed eyes at first kiss. He learned about emptiness as her blank eyes passed over him in the street while her bloody hand laced its way into another, not his. Tears are the sutures for his heart and I feel a need for them for my own as I look on. My heart goes off again but I feel the beating from a different area. Beat beat beat beat beat….done.
I don’t want to go on anymore. When emotion is exhausted one questions God. My feet halfheartedly try to return to stride and my left side becomes illuminated as if the new light through this new window dictates which appendages of mine exist in the recently pitch colored void of my life. There is my friend again. A new piece of him is visible in his strength. His mark of Cain plays testament to the periodical firing of his clay heart. I see these times in his life and they give me back my heart. Like a sonata each of these moments are keys and leaving out a key is leaving a masterpiece undone. He has pulled me out of my shell with his rhetoric and like the smile on a young child’s face he has shown me unadulterated beauty.
For the first time in a long time, I feel my whole heart. With open eyes I look out the window, climb through and join life.
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