I Am Waiting

http://www.misterdecal.com

 

I have been surrounded by inspiration, and my fingertips are practically begging me to write.  My notebook has been whispering my name, and every single pen is yearning for me to use it and write.

As a writer, I am very picky about when and where I write, which isn’t a good thing.  I should write every day, no matter what, but unfortunately with school and chores and people to see that doesn’t always happen.  Lately, though, writing has been the only thought in my head.  Yesterday I read the literary magazine that my high school publishes each year.  There was a plethora of poetry in it, and after reading through it, I was determined to write.  I have just begun reading F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel, This Side of Paradise, and much like his famous book, The Great Gatsby, the language is so lyrical and elegant.  His diction encourages me to pick up a pen and write.  I also collect song lyrics, and after scouring through various artists’ work, I feel the need to put my thoughts on paper.  I’ve also been telling people that this summer I plan on writing, so I want to back up my claim.

But, I haven’t reached for a pen, I haven’t opened a new Microsoft Word document, and I haven’t even teased myself by formulating some type of literature in my head.  I haven’t even read through my past poems to try to sparks something.  I guess, as much as I’d hate to say it, I am procrastinating.

I’ve been inspired, but my desire to write has not reached it’s full potential because I am waiting for the opportune moment.  I am waiting for more time, as opposed to only a couple of hours.  I am waiting until everyone else in my house is busy or out, so I can commit to my own solitude.  I am waiting for a day when I have no plans and nothing else on my mind but writing.  Basically, I am waiting for a time in which I can pour my every thought and emotion onto paper without interruption or worry.

 

 

Spoken Aloud, Spoken Word, Spoken Emotions

I had heard about a cafe called The Sentient Bean that holds poetry readings and open mic nights.  I was intrigued and this morning when I just so happened to go on their website, the cafe was hosting an open mic night open to poets, singers, and rappers and others.  I knew I had to go.  I came prepared and printed out a few of my poems, just in case the mood struck me and I was feeling brave.

When I arrived I was twenty minutes early, so I picked a seat in the back and simply watched what was going on around me: people sipping coffee, meetings being held, iPhones being given much attention, and folks furiously typing away.  Around seven, speakers were blaring music and the MC was introducing himself and telling people where the sign up sheet was.  I moved a little closer and snagged a prime spot where I could see the stage.  I kept glancing at the sign up sheet a few tables down, but I wasn’t ready to read so soon, or if I was even planning on reading my poem aloud; I really was undecided.

The few first acts began.  A band came up and rapped, a boy no older than 10 played some bass guitar, a few women sang, and then individuals came up and rapped.  I  was enjoying myself as I listened to their struggles, dreams, and stories of their lives.  People clapped and cheered and the environment was very encouraging.  The MC a few times would insist that more people put their name on the sign sheet up.  I felt like he was directly speaking to me, but I couldn’t seem to move from my seat.

Then a spoken word poet came up on stage and spoke about why he writes.  He ended his piece with the line, “Write me a happily ever after and after that write your words.”  He was so inspiring, eloquent with his words, and calm on stage.  I spoke with him a little bit after his performance, and he was a sincere, nice guy.  After he went up on stage, I felt rather inadequate.  I do not do spoken word.  Spoken word and poetry, though related, are quite different.  Spoken word is performance poetry with a rhythm/music derived from the rap culture.  Poetry, on the other hand, does not have to follow a rhyme scheme or a rhythm.  My emotional poem seemed out of place at this fun, music and rap based open mic night.

As the night continued, I removed the poem I wanted to read from my purse and placed it on my lap.  I folded the corners, and read it over; I wanted to stand up and read my poem, but I lacked the nerve to get up and do it.  The MC called again for anyone looking to come up on stage, I bent my knees, preparing to lift myself from my chair, but someone beat me to it.  So I remained still in my seat.  The man who came up on stage proceeded to do stand up comedy.  He commented on every individual in the room to get them involved.  When he came upon me he said, “Hello Madame in the back, how are you?” as he waved.  I smiled and waved, and then he asked what was in my lap.  My poem was still there, so I said, “I’m debating on reading some poetry.”  He joked with me about my soft voice because it seemed no one had heard me.  I restated my hesitance at reading my poem, and then I received encouragement.  The spoken word poet next to me told me I should go up there, and then a man to my left who had been writing the entire night, jotting down thoughts, insisted I do it.  I smiled, and the comedian moved on to the spoken word poet and commented that he looked like Bob Marley’s son.

When the comedian finished up, the MC got up on stage and looked at me and said, “So I hear you’re debating on reading something.”  At that I stood up with my poem in hand, without even giving it a second thought.

I was introduced and then the mic was adjusted for me because I’m so short.  I gave a brief background to the poem, when it was written and why, and then spoke my poetry aloud to the audience.  I was shaky and nervous, but I felt empowered.  I was putting myself out there, and I liked that people were listening to my words.  When I was finished, I squeakily thanked the audience, and a round of applause began.  I couldn’t stop smiling.

The spoken word poet told me I did well, and later that evening a woman came up to me and introduced herself.  It turns out she attended the college I go to, and she told me how she related to my poem.  I had reached someone.

Words!

I like to consider myself a collector of words.  The thesaurus is my best friend when I write.  I have dictionary.com bookmarked on my computer.  When I was in sixth grade, I asked for a rhyming dictionary for Christmas.  Constantly I am asking people what a word means if they use one I’ve never heard.  Words have always interested me.  I’m even one of those people where certain words sounds gross to me, such as phlegm, moist, and meringue.  I have favorite words as well.  I prefer playing word games: Catchphrase, Scattergories, and Boggle are some of my favorites.  I’m a word junkie, and just the other day a friend of mine proposed that we send each other a new word each day.  So, I thought I’d share some new and exciting words you may not know the meaning of…until now.

1. glabela: noun; the flat area of bone between the eyebrows

 2.  abecedarian: noun; a person who is learning the letters of the alphabet; a beginner in any field of learning; adjective; of or pertaining to the alphabet; arranged in alphabetical order; rudimentary or elementary

3.  bonhomie: noun; frank and simple good-heartedness; a good natured manner; friendliness

4.  chiaroscuro: noun; Italian word for pattern of light and dark or light and shadow in a painting or literary work

5.  cinephile: noun; a devoted moviegoer, especially one knowledgeable about the cinema

6.  diphthong: noun; an unsegmentable, gliding speech sound varying continuously in phonetic quality but held to be a single sound or phoneme and identified by its apparent beginning and ending sound, such as the oi sound of toy or boil

7.  effulgent: adjective; shining forth brilliantly; radiant

8.  gravid: adjective; pregnant

9.  meretricious: adjective; alluring by a show of flashy or vulgar attractions; based on pretense deception of insincerity

10.  arachibutyrophobia: noun; fear of peanut butter clinging to the top of your mouth

 

Fragments to a Poem

Sometimes when I’m writing in my notebooks, for fun, I’ll end up writing one spectacular line.  Sometimes I think it’s brilliant because of the vivid use of imagery I managed to write, or the personification I put into the fragment, or I really adore it because it’s a thought provoking little bit.  But, usually I cannot pair the single line with anything else, or I run out of steam and I can’t turn the line into a poem or use it in a story.  But, I also feel that the line isn’t strong enough to stand on its own as a solo one-lined poem.  So, what do I do with these wasted one liners that no one will ever get to read?  I collect them of course.  I can’t even fathom how many word documents are on my computer that simply have ten words at the top of the page and nothing more.  So, I had an idea to write some of them down, as one poem, and see what happens.  Let’s see how it turns out:

 

Firework eyes.

I’m not good enough for you and you’re not what I need.

Words whispered into your voicemail.

Love is blind so I closed my eyes.

We’ve waged a war who can smile brighter despite the scars.

You’re merely literature by my bedside.

No more than nails on a chalkboard.

They say hate is a strong word, but so is love; how’s this for a risk taker: I hate that I love you now.

Too bad I lost my best friend.

The steam from the shower takes me to a better place.

I’ll take my hurt and write it all down; that’s the reason I’m sane right now.

Maybe you’re not what I need, and maybe that’s why I need you.

Inhale you now as you exhale me out.

I’ll be your liquid heroin and you can be the death of me; we’ll be the perfect tragedy.

 

lushquotes.com

 

Coffee Table Books

I have this theory that the book’s on a person’s coffee table say a lot about them.  Are there magazines on the table, a dictionary and a thesaurus; classic novels high school professors make you read, such as Romeo and Juliet, Of Mice and Men, and The Great Gatsby, or are there unique, odd books such as joke books or the history of chocolate?  Ever since freshman year of high school I have been collecting books that I want on my coffee table in my house.  I don’t drink coffee, but I still want the table.  Here is my coffee table book list:

1.  Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree has to be on the list because that is my all time favorite children’s book.  The story is about a boy who grows up with a tree, and the tree will do anything to keep the boy around because the tree loves the boy.  Giving up her branches, her apples, and her trunk; the tree is a loyal friend.

alisoncherrybooks.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2.  Marilyn Manson’s autobiography, Long Hard Road Out of Hell, is a gripping true tale that is beautiful yet ugly, brutally honest yet too informative, repulsive yet inviting, thoughtful yet incredibly frank, and grotesque yet insanely elegant.  Manson is a brilliant man that has much to say about his own life, his dreams, his setbacks, fame, and just about everything.

themusicmoms.com

3.  The Kurt Cobain Journals will proudly be displayed on my coffee table.  I have yet to finish the lengthy passages Cobain has written, but no doubt this book is part of my collection.  Filled with his musings, notes, artwork, and various song lyrics, and bits about the ban; this book delves into Cobain’s psyche.  He’s my favorite singer; Nirvana is one of my favorite bands, and his story has captured my interest ever since I was little.

blogpsot.com

4.  When I unwrapped this book one Christmas morning, it screamed at me, “I am coffee table material.”  The book, Vans: Off the Wall: Stories of Sole from Vans Originals, documents the entire history of what Vans stands for, the history of the shoe, and its filled with colorful images.  And since I have my own pair of black and white checkered Vans, this book deserves a spot on the table.

surfersvillage.com

5.  I have yet to purchase this book (because it’s rather pricey), but the Indie Rock Poster Book is a must on my coffee table.  The entire book is filled with colorful images of various posters for bands.  I am lover of bands and music, and I am intrigued by poster designs.

amazonaws.com

6.  The children’s book, Cookies: Bite Size Life Lessons written by Amy Rosenthal, was an impulse buy of mine, but completely worth it.  The illustrations help define words every kid must learn at some point in life, such as honesty and fair.  And the cute part is that every life lesson is based around cookies, and at the end of the book there’s a recipe for chocolate chip cookies.

vegbooks.com

7.  Just the other day I went to a local bookstore and was browsing the shelves for fun.  I stumbled upon a book called Too Bad Its Poetry by Jim Warner.  WOW.  I was hooked on the first poem, and I knew I had to buy it.  I’ve read through it twice already, taken notes, and have been inspired.  The book is unique in that it’s like a record, with Side A, and then you flip the book over for Side B.  The poems range in subject matter from identity, to the past, to love.  Warner’s style is truthfully elegant.

blogspot.com

8.  Lastly, there is a book out there I have wanted to read since 8th grade.  I have yet to get my hands on it because I can only order it online.  The book is called Purpose for the Pain by Renee Yohe.  I am an avid believer in the To Write Love On Her Arms movement, and this is the story of the girl who inspired the entire movement.  Filled with her handwritten journals, the story documents her journey.  But, until I get to read it, her book will merely exist on this list.

twloha.com