Monday, March 12, 2012
We have two prompts!
I grow wild without you and almost a friend
These prompts are courtesy of an amazing poet who joins us each week named Rick, and they were both so good that we couldn't decide which one! So please, write to one of them, either of them, or neither of them, but bring your work to the poetry club on Tuesday, from 3-4 in the hot shot cafe!
Oh, and P.S, are you guys as happy about the term almost being over as I am? Because I could not be rejoicing more.
I grow wild without you and almost a friend
These prompts are courtesy of an amazing poet who joins us each week named Rick, and they were both so good that we couldn't decide which one! So please, write to one of them, either of them, or neither of them, but bring your work to the poetry club on Tuesday, from 3-4 in the hot shot cafe!
Oh, and P.S, are you guys as happy about the term almost being over as I am? Because I could not be rejoicing more.
Almost A Friend by Rick Casillas
You in bloom, in soft red turn.
Green I think, greener than I would have thought.
I like the clock behind me, you look in it's direction often.
And I think, in moments past, that maybe it was me you wanted and not the time.
And I hear you, once or twice a day.
In clatter and song, your voice rises in my seeking.
Worthy, proud, flutters of motion adrift in flight.
There are Others, they have longer necks, and louder voices that do not rise.
Crude manicured hands that shape mirrors to waste in.
But your bird has willow thick petals for eyes,
and the curve of its neck, trembles and thrums in sweet soulful ache.
Your melody is lullaby and seed, drifting, absent of effort towards me in falter blue plume.
And it's cheek, soft as you, pink as you, but less shy.
I tell it you're beautiful, and I like your tattoos.
But for all the kindess I would rather not know you, this glad mildness will suffice,
Because I know you want the time, and have not seen me instead.
You in bloom, in soft red turn.
Green I think, greener than I would have thought.
I like the clock behind me, you look in it's direction often.
And I think, in moments past, that maybe it was me you wanted and not the time.
And I hear you, once or twice a day.
In clatter and song, your voice rises in my seeking.
Worthy, proud, flutters of motion adrift in flight.
There are Others, they have longer necks, and louder voices that do not rise.
Crude manicured hands that shape mirrors to waste in.
But your bird has willow thick petals for eyes,
and the curve of its neck, trembles and thrums in sweet soulful ache.
Your melody is lullaby and seed, drifting, absent of effort towards me in falter blue plume.
And it's cheek, soft as you, pink as you, but less shy.
I tell it you're beautiful, and I like your tattoos.
But for all the kindess I would rather not know you, this glad mildness will suffice,
Because I know you want the time, and have not seen me instead.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Oh my lord, I am sorry I haven't posted in a while! I'm terrible, I know.
But, I have wonderful, exciting news.
February is Bkack History Month, and to celebrate the poetry club is reading and sharing poetry and literary works from black authors! This event goes from 3:30-5:30 on the Albany campus in the Diversity Achievement Center.
There are lots of snacks and lovely people, so please come and join us!
But, I have wonderful, exciting news.
February is Bkack History Month, and to celebrate the poetry club is reading and sharing poetry and literary works from black authors! This event goes from 3:30-5:30 on the Albany campus in the Diversity Achievement Center.
There are lots of snacks and lovely people, so please come and join us!
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Valentines day is a day of true love. So come join us the day after as we celebrate love by raising awareness abut a tragedy close to home.
This is an event to raise awareness about human trafficking.
Surviver testimony by Jessica Richardson
Presentation by Jim Westfall, cofounder of Door to Grace Organization
Where: the DAC room (f-220), located above Student Life and Leadership.
When: February 15th, 12 pm to 2pm
Want more info? Contact Gabriel at gabrieltrovati@gmail.com, or check out the Facebook page, facebook.com/events/342981622396472
This is an event to raise awareness about human trafficking.
Surviver testimony by Jessica Richardson
Presentation by Jim Westfall, cofounder of Door to Grace Organization
Where: the DAC room (f-220), located above Student Life and Leadership.
When: February 15th, 12 pm to 2pm
Want more info? Contact Gabriel at gabrieltrovati@gmail.com, or check out the Facebook page, facebook.com/events/342981622396472
Hello all!
Most of us have done all our midterms by now, and i hope they all went great!
As many of you know, febuary is Black History Month, and on febuary 28th some of the members in the poetry club will read their favorite poems written by some amazing African American poets.
But, more info on that later.
This weeks poetry club prompt is those moments still come back and like in the past couple of weeks, it is accompanied by a poem. Enjoy!
The Old Age of Nostalgia by Mark Strand
Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imagined future, of being carried away in streams of promise by a love or a passion so strong that one felt altered forever and convinced that the smallest particle of the surrounding world was charged with a purpose of impossible grandeur; ah yes, and one would look up into the trees and be thrilled by the wind-loosened river of pale gold foliage cascading down and by the high melodious singing of countless birds; those moments, so many and so long ago, still come back, but briefly, like fireflies in the perfumed heat of a summer night.
Come join us at our usual time and place this week for poetry club! (3-4 at the Hot Shot cafe!)
Most of us have done all our midterms by now, and i hope they all went great!
As many of you know, febuary is Black History Month, and on febuary 28th some of the members in the poetry club will read their favorite poems written by some amazing African American poets.
But, more info on that later.
This weeks poetry club prompt is those moments still come back and like in the past couple of weeks, it is accompanied by a poem. Enjoy!
The Old Age of Nostalgia by Mark Strand
Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imagined future, of being carried away in streams of promise by a love or a passion so strong that one felt altered forever and convinced that the smallest particle of the surrounding world was charged with a purpose of impossible grandeur; ah yes, and one would look up into the trees and be thrilled by the wind-loosened river of pale gold foliage cascading down and by the high melodious singing of countless birds; those moments, so many and so long ago, still come back, but briefly, like fireflies in the perfumed heat of a summer night.
Come join us at our usual time and place this week for poetry club! (3-4 at the Hot Shot cafe!)
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
I
algid daggers of night
slice me from dreams
into dark reality
numb fingers fumble,
feeling for time
among shed comforts
brumal floor touches toes,
feet flee, phantasmal
memories muffling breathe
II
woken by the absence
of the human flame
that flickered away
joints crackle, breaking
dawn's fickle grasp
upon robins' racket
flocculent fleece flows
from my chilled bones
to your slumbering chest
III
eyes flutter to fantasy
of warmth and safety,
leaving sleep behind
hands still entwined
among soft sheets
pulsing with sanctuary
silent exhales' lullaby
leaves a silken trance;
hearts rest in time
-Eliot Kurfman
algid daggers of night
slice me from dreams
into dark reality
numb fingers fumble,
feeling for time
among shed comforts
brumal floor touches toes,
feet flee, phantasmal
memories muffling breathe
II
woken by the absence
of the human flame
that flickered away
joints crackle, breaking
dawn's fickle grasp
upon robins' racket
flocculent fleece flows
from my chilled bones
to your slumbering chest
III
eyes flutter to fantasy
of warmth and safety,
leaving sleep behind
hands still entwined
among soft sheets
pulsing with sanctuary
silent exhales' lullaby
leaves a silken trance;
hearts rest in time
-Eliot Kurfman
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