cant decide which of my entries is the best... i'll just say
mina loy and my feminist spill and .... george orwell and my abuse of english spill...
but if u see another and think its good.... pick that one:P
cant decide which of my entries is the best... i'll just say
Ok, I guess for this creative I have to be off stage voices or narration that I was in our part of under milk wood.
What the fuck is going on here? Is this a dream or what? As the narrator I’m supposed to know what’s going on but really I’m just jabbering on in a very bad welsh accent and hoping that it ties in with that these people are dreaming, I’m just the disjointed idea of all these people combined. And talk about sexual dreams, what is up with all the promiscuity, this is really shattering my idea of the quaint welsh sea-side town... maybe I should go back to Cardiff?
Hmmm I need to file my nails... and maybe trim my toe hair... dirty sea sailing sailor...
Could we just drown that whinging bitch in her bucket... get over it ya man is dead, probably trying to get away from you...
And what’s with the domestic disputes, seriously, if your marriages are that unhappy and you suspect your hubby is meeting up with the town bike in the woods then get a divorce, and don’t pull that Christian anti divorce shit with me, the number of sins you people have committed with all the promiscuity and such getting a divorce and getting out of this shitty backwater place would probably be the best thing you do for your souls...
Amazing that the sunny exterior of Llareggub Hill, hides the festering pot of sin underneath it all. Ohhh and can you please stop just dreaming of that wife and actually kill her already... now there’s a sin worth writing home about...
Sing your sins little whores and we shall meet again... though I am you, am I your conscience? Do I have a conscience, is the same voice that tells you not to do something the voice that tells you to do it... at the moment I’m all for doing it because I crave the instant satisfaction... this place is just the pits.
I can’t wait for those about 16 hours of day I get off when these people are awake because their dreams are the hardest job in the world, to have to constantly process the thoughts of human beings... why couldn’t I be the dog dream man... or the cat... cats would be better, what with all the sleeping and empty minds.....
George Orwell’s essay on the abuse of English is extremely relevant in today’s English speaking world… though I would like to look at in a different way. Though there is sometimes beauty in simplicity as a literature student and as a result of my education over the past 20 years, I can’t help but be defensive of the flowery use of English, especially when trying to make up 2000 words for an essay. I often find my larger essays contain only a little more content than my 1000 word essays, and all I do is say the same way in a more illustrious way.
There is a part of me that is now, trying to impress the person that is reading this by using hehe, big words, it’s like an athlete, they can do a double back flip… wow, impressive, a triple back flip, even more impressive, I guess it’s another part of western society that leads us to think bigger is better, and as someone that does impress through sport, I’m sure I’m not the only one in our class, reading this that agrees and uses their wonderful skill in English in an attempt to rise higher in society, as a way to make money, to look “better” to the rest of the world, to stand out as a philosopher, call me crazy but I like this in a person, I like the mixing of likeminded people and seeing their insights into the human condition.
The second part of what I’d like to say here is my mixed feelings on the evolution of English. I sometimes think I am one of the people who get angry and are quick to correct when English is not spoken well, on the other hand, I feel we have now reached another transition on the evolution of English, and we should just allow people to spell things how they want, re-write the dictionary and just get over it. Brings up the rhetorical question is my desire for the evolution of English stemming from extreme laziness????? If the Elizabethans were to continually criticize the spelling, form and pronunciation of English, we would still be speaking Shakespearian… must say that I can’t handle the Americanization of Australian English, if anyone who was born here says or spells mum as MOM beware that I have a vial of arsenic and I’m not afraid to use it…
Feminism, is it relevant in today’s world? Hell yeah... though I think the most interesting thing I have heard when contemplating and discussing the feminist movement is that it is women, more so than men who are the main hinderers of the women’s liberation. One only has to listen to the discussion of women, both young and old, and only hear the over-use of the word slut and whore to see women are the most judgemental and selfish persons in relation to feminism. Mina Loy shows how to be strong women must not waver when the man shows interest in another woman, yet time and time again we see females blaming the other slut woman for their mans disloyalty and promiscuity.
For the liberation of women to finally be free, women must first unite, yet it seems their personal, subconscious animalistic desires to keep a healthy mate and fight off any others who come her way, are what stops the larger meta-processes from taking place. For women to call each other bitch slut and whore only in turn makes it easier for men. The male species does not seem to have this problem, sure there is jealousy and such, yet the male species for the past thousands of years seems to have been able to caste their emotional feelings aside, and only concern themselves with the progress of their states, countries and families, even when we hear stories of ancient times, we see is it the women who kenive, out of jealousy. Helen of troy starts a war between Greece and troy, yet as the battle unfolds and hundreds are killed, she decides she wishes to go back, to the winner, again what I see as this base desire to breed with the stronger man.
I think human emotion has overcome the actual physical need of pregnancy, we see this in the growing rate of homosexual relationships, yet I still feel the base desire of ALL humans is to find a fertile mate who... IF there was to be procreation, would be a good supplier for, and raiser of children.
This finally brings me to the part of Mina Loy's work that stood out to me the most, that a woman, and I feel a man or any human in any kind of relationship, should have to give nothing in return when in marriage, in return for her virginity... sorry that was badly worded, but this encouraged a thought in me. That in relationship, we should not have to produce, children, or money, or anything material, in return for affection and nurturing. I feel that in a relationship, when it is a right and healthy love between to humans, that the reward for offering your love, in only their love in return. A completely balanced exchange of care and empathy where your fall into a cyclic and mutual reward, of love to love. Your reward for smiling at your partner is their smile back at you.
Areas of fields, farming, rural, with only scatterd trees, trees that you would run to for shelter in a storm, only to be struck by lighting.
Fear of being chased through fields, as the sun sets, they are damp, a figure in an overcoat is chasing me, while it pours. The landscape of the empty field with the scattered trees haunts me. The barreness, the helplessness, there is noone there to help you, its fueled by constantly watching slasher movies where stupid people get involved in stupid situations. Why would you go back to check out that empty house on the field???
In that house, theres gonna be a single woman… maybe with cats, who you will run to to ask for help… she wont have a fone…. Your panicking, I’m panicking… we see the figure aproaching us… naturally the woman pays no mind to it… that’s her brother, she is setting it up… she is supplying us to him, for him to kill us… her brother needs to kill us, then eat our hearts, wear our skins… he has a bad childhood, its not his fault he is this way. She loves him. She loves him more than her logical reasoning respects our human lives.
I realised this… we ran out the back door, into the field back out into the danger, into the barren landscape. Running, panting, chest is painful, straining, I fall into the mud. Face down, I give up. Keep running, I scream for you to keep running. The overcoated man come sup behind me. And sticks a javeline into my kidney. I holler, and die….
Does anyone consider that the horror movie ends right here for the victim… kevin bacon in Friday the 13th… they just die. It’s the end.
And here is where this story ends… ego maniac. I am the only thing that matters in my universe, I’m dead now, who cares if you survived or not?
I just lay dead, bleeding from the back, face in the mud, in an empty rainy field, under one of the scattered trees.
|comment on ellisa's lj|
|hey there ellisa, what a beautifullu stirrying poem you have written here. the way u have connected deeply with the theme of the war poetry we have been reading for the past two weeks is truly mesmorising.|
the final stanza evokes such a feeling in me, i am almost moved to tears, what a beautiful sadness u have portrayed here.
i hope to see more of this agian
much love... matt
In the first 2 weeks of this semester, I would have to say that Wilfred Owen’s Dulce Et Decorum Est, was the poem that resonated most with me.
Owen’s poetic description of world war one, was, I feel a very powerful artistic technique. His first stanza brings about the atmosphere of the war. The simile, of coughing like hags, and the emotive use of the term bent-double, shows us the horrific conditions in which these soldiers were living. These conditions in which these patriotic soldiers lived, seems to be lessened, by their patriotism. Owen shows this love of their nation within the second half of the stanza by use of the word trudge. Owen displays that the soldiers are willing to die for their country, their freedom. The line concerning the men walking asleep demonstrates the drive and determination of these men to meet some kind of an end, and no matter what the outcome it will be sweet.
The second stanza and the aside, bring about the new hectic mania of the war effort. The rhyme scheme of stanza two, aids Owen’s display of frenzy. Fumbling, stumbling, time and lime. The horrible image of bodies having to be put under lime, to rapidly decompose, for sanitary reasons, is linked to the melting of lungs due to a gassing. The horrible image of drowning in one’s own melting body fluids stuck in my mind, with further contribution from my tutorial class, we were able to fully appreciate the dying wishes of these soldiers on the First World War.
The final stanza of the poem fulfils the Latin title. Dulce et decorum est. meaning it is sweet to die for ones country. The imagery used in this final stanza is gory, and lends itself to the vibrantly colourful descriptions of death. Perhaps these glorified images of death are used to persuade young men to join the army of the allied forces.
In all, this poem stirs a kind of patriotism, and led me to contemplate the patriotism we have today. I feel we are often quick to judge our politics… though I often see that our government is not our country, our government may seem ruthless, power and money hungry, but our country, is we, an openhearted community, sans judgement. I would fight for that. I would not like to contemplate taking another’s life, but if it were my freedom, my quality of life… those things I feel that identify within myself as an Australian, one would have to fight. Or at least I would, in our lives, so many decades apart from a war, I think we take for granted that others will fight for us, I’m not advocating violence, yet if we were under attack, not going to another country, but our own land, my own home being treated, I would not be one to run.
creative week 8
critical week 9
comment week 7
i sent this in an email 2 mg but 4got 2 post 2 my lj
hope whoever is marking this hasnt been here and felt lost yet... if u are, i dunno if i... as a 2nd year ljaa has a 3rd year ljaa, but either way, thats them... scroll away and be amazed by my stunningness.... hehe
hey love, just wanna comment on your poem you...
what a top poem!!!
its that last stanza that gets it for me... that whole junkie metaphor, i really like it. like alanis morissette, i guess im a supposed former infatuation junkie... hehe it also reminds me of this sinead o'connor song where she sings, touch my mouth, with your herion... as dark and serious as that drug scene it, i find it really applicible to that crazy addiction to other humans, we sometimes develop. it makes me question if humans naturally search for others, or its something society tells us too do. id like to think its a basic instint that we look for someone to aide us... then agian, alanis also says, i dont wanna be your other half, i believe that 1 & 1 make 2.... look at me bringing out the feminine angst music...
just wanna say congrats, and keep up the good work, its beautiful stuff, and i see u got tamara as your watcher, look out 4 her, shes a top poet too
3 years later, you've wirlwind back into my life
except my confidence
strawberry milk, and snakes, best days of my life
green eyes looking over me
as the sunlight lit your face
as i let one go, your replacement
you come back
the loss, it feels like you're my reward for independance.
i dont want to feel good about leaving
but.... i do
the guilt is rising, why do i let u make me feel this way?
am i obliged to long for you?
do i have to remind u that i want you?
rhetorical... cause i know you will never answer
you never could
the indecisiveness of your ways, what pushed me
i wish you well, but the time has come
im growing a forest now
though i am still a mushroom