Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Creative Writing on Wednesdays

The creative writing class I have this quarter, LTCR 10: Intro to Creative Writing, has been a very interesting experience. Up to this point I have not had as much exposure to the different kinds of people as in this, a room of 25 people, all of them with huge egos and small egos and great hopes and desires to be read and loved. I share some of their sentiment. Although this experience has more or less turned me off from the creative writing major, I have been forced to write a lot for the class, and some of it has turned out better, some of it worse.

One such situation that came up was just last week. Last month our teacher asked all of us if anyone would like to speak at the upcoming student reading. I said that "if I have something to read, I will read" and the Monday before I got an email saying we all had one minute to recite any verse or prose we wanted. I scrawled together a poem the morning of, practiced it in the 4 hours or so that I had between classes, and went to class feeling alright. When it came time for me to read (which was early), I got up and thought I knew exactly how things were going to go. It wasn't nearly as smooth as I had hoped, though. In any case, I would like to share the poem with you all. I wasn't sure whether the ending would be too cliché, but I went with it. You decide.

Musing

From the moment we are born to the moment we die
We are unclean. We live in filth.
Like a pig in the sty we roll in the dirt
Kicking dust into the sky we squander the earth's resources
Our time is running out.
We can only push our shit underneath the carpet for so long
Before we can no longer sit on the floor
And the rising tides of the current times
Are claiming more and more
Fading coastline, removing margin of error
Squeals quashed, swallow the bitter pill
Dig your grave not wit hthe shovel but the dollar
Consumption despite the dearth and squalor
So when the ocean comes to cleanse the land,
I hope you enjoy the view
As God destroys the human world
Destroys us, me and you

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm not exactly a poem buff, but it the first half sounds like prose with no rhyming (I never paid attention to how meter worked back in school, so I didn't bother to check for that) and then the rhyming came suddenly later. I guess it's your call to make it half and half.

Anyway, you are a hippy. :)