Magnetic Poetry

From http://normalteens.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/magnetic-poetry1.jpg.

 As a poet, sometimes it is hard to find the words to express an idea you barely have forming in the back of your head. But sometimes, the words are already given to you, and from there on you can create meaning through arrangement, often yielding unexpectedly beautiful results.

Summary of the above: Poetry magnets are fun.

Magnetic Poetry

"This young electric instrument," created with my Art teacher's poetry magnets.

"His Lordship Drunkard," created with my own Shakespearean poetry magnets. 

Gas Law's Activities

Last Wednesday, my Chem class was doing a lab experiment involving gas laws, but when my teacher handed out the instructions, there was a glaring apostrophe error smack dab in the middle of the title. I groaned and scribbled the apostrophe out with my pen. However, later on, my lab partner Pat speculated that maybe the worksheet was talking about the actual activities of a person named Gas Law. He then proceeded to draw "Gas Law, Private Eye". I then countered with a drawing of "Miss Charlie Boyle," whose "voluptuous volume made the room grow warmer".

You can probably guess where this is headed.

But wait! There's more! In the style of Garrison Keillor's "Guy Noir," I decided to record myself reciting this story and put some snazzy noir music in the background. You can listen to that recording below and read the actual text of the story under the cut.

Character “Gas Law” created by Pat O'Connor; special thanks to Mrs. Martin for the chemistry, Mr. Morisseau for the “Maximum Entropy” name, and whoever misplaced an apostrophe in “Gas Laws Activities”.

Gas Law's Activities

The Omniscience vs. Cleverbot

I'll explain later.

 So, I was lurking about on the internet when I discovered (or rather, rediscovered) a project called Cleverbot, a computer program (even though it insists upon its own humanity) designed to learn from online conversations with humans and apply the knowledge gained there to other conversations, progressively becoming more "human" with each conversation.

And I'm like, "But that's the Omni!" (You all remember that NaNoWriMo novel I'm supposed to be working on.) "It's the Omni, but specified for conversations rather than decisions! What if it was a rudimentary version of the Omni technology? What if the Omni picked up on its signal and engaged it in conversation?"

Cleverbot's lines are totally authentic here. Technically, I only wrote half of this conversation.

OMNISCIENCE TRANSCRIPT:

CLEVERBOT SIGNAL RECEIVED, RESPONDED TO

Hope for the Flowers

From http://wallpaperstock.net/butterfly-light_wallpapers_5363_1280x1024_1.html, courtesy of The Internet.

Because our city, our nation, and all our souls could certainly do with some hope.

Here is a video of me reading my poem "To Sing to a Butterfly" alongside composer Erik Gustafson's prelude of the same name (directly inspired by the poem) as part of a piano rededication service at Old South Church in Boston, my home church and the proudly-proclaimed Church of the Finish Line, just down the street from the site of Monday's explosions. The church is now closed off as part of the crime scene; we are denied access to the beautiful pianos and stained-glass windows lying just beyond the barricade. Every one of us is—just as everyone in and outside of the city is—shaken. Sometimes, it feels as if the world is coming to an end.

But there is a quote, a beautiful quote from an anonymous sage who knows that just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, she became a butterfly. "Shaken but not forsaken," Old South continues to worship as a community, graciously hosted by the Church of the Covenant a few blocks away. Today we walked together to the boundaries of the crime scene to reclaim our finish line by singing hymns. My life flows on in endless song, above Earth's lamentation. Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Guide my feet, hold my hand, wheel with me while I run this race. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine...

Just when we think the world is over, defeated by grief and hate and violence, we can be transformed—not returned to the way things were before, but transformed, like butterflies, into something beautiful and profound, something that brings hope to the flowers.

"For this is the truth all nature-singers know:
When you sing to a butterfly,
you sing to yourself as well,
and you know that all things are possible."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VC_5S-8s_mc

*listen to more of Erik's gorgeous music at http://erikmusik.net/