Katykins Weblog

So I must admit, it’s always been a dream of mine to be a singer. I love to sing, I love hearing other people to sing, I just love music in general. I used to write songs when I was a teenager. I think that the poetry classes that I’ve taken relate to music. The rhythm in poetry is similar to the rhythm in songs. Songs, however, rely more on notes. Poems rely on the actual rhythm of the words. For my writing poetry class I tried to turn the following song chorus into a poem.

   Trip

Trip up and catch yourself but you can’t,

ever know the things I did not mean to do it,

trip up and catch yourself,

trip up and catch yourself,

loves bent but trust me I never meant,

to fall and hurt you again and again,

trip up and catch yourself.

The song relies so much on notes that speaking it does not do it justice. This is why I could never work as a poem. This concept at first frustrated me, turning me off from trying to write poetry. It wasn’t until fall semester was over that I truly appreciated poetry. Surprisingly, this did not come from my Poetry 1 class, but from my college writing and British Lit classes, with Dr. Gurney. His explanations of the poems and meters made me sea poetry in a new light. Poems are music with out notes. They rely on rhythm, flow, beat and meter, much like music.

I think that I’ll keep writing songs as well as poetry. I’m not going to try to turn and songs into poems anytime soon. Some things are just better left alone.

 Hearing the other poems in our workshops has it’s ups and downs. Most all writers can’t help but feel vunerable around other poets, especially ones who seem so confident in what they are doing. I know, I may be sounding cliche here, but we really are our own worst critics. This may be one of the factors that pushes me more toward the idea of pursuing a career as an editor or a technical writer. That and the fact that I have some of my fathers ideas in me, pushing me more toward what’s “realistic”. Then again, if all writers thought this way, we wouldn’t have any books and poems to read, of movies and tv shows to watch, not to mention the enjoyment of the rest of the fine arts.

I wrote the following poem about the moral decay of todays society and how it is affecting america’s youth. I’m not sure that it flows well yet, and it may be revised a couple of more times bedore I feel comfortable with it. I think that although it is somewhat depressing it does have a positive message.

Addictions

Society weighs down-Enabling trends and behaviors, transforming creativity into hair, booze, and eyeliner. The would be activists scream for more as the pornification of our nation reaks havoc on my psyche. Overwhelmed, my scalp burns from chemicals and my eyes squint from mascara as I try to pretend that I’m not phased.
It’s a mess that I repress.
I look around to see smart women downing vodka and dreamers burning brain cells and wonder if it really matters. 
I’m drowning in this falsified world that I created for myself as I turn from my past and hesitate toward the future, wondering if I’m too jaded to change.

The week is coming to an end, and I can not wait for spring break to begin. I’m not doing anything exciting, just relaxing, and working of course, but for the most part I get to sleep in! It is sad that I won’t be able to see my fiance for the majority of the break. Being the helpful person he is, he’s agreed to watch his three little cousins for a week in Turtle River. I’m trying not to be too upset, family is family after all.

 My course work is going fairly well. I’m kind of worried that I’m not going to make it onto the Dean’s List again this semester. We’ll se how midterms go after the break. I scored a higher score on my Physical Science exam(93), and I’m almost done reading “As I Lay Dying” by Faulkner, for my American Literature class. I can’t help but feel that I’ve not been putting hundered percent into my course work, especially this last week with my engagement to Matt. It’s humerous that now that’s it’s spring break time I’m ready to buckle down.

I’m stressed for what the rest of the semester will bring. I want to do well, but sometimes I lack in motivation. I’m still not sure what my true calling is. I’ve flipped back and forth between the creative and the professional end of my major so many times that now I can’t help but second guess both of them. I look at my own creative works and think to myself, am I really good enough? I recognize my declining drive and think can I ever make it in the business world.

Either way I need to buckle down. I know I have potential, but I know that I have my mothers self-destructive tendencies. The more I get into my major, the more I realize how possible my dream of becoming a professional writer is, and the more scared I get.

Thank God for Spring Break