Ezekiel

From http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/62/Columbian_mammoth.JPG/250px-Columbian_mammoth.JPG. It's a Columbian mammoth skeleton.

 So, I just returned from the Juniper Institute for Young Writers summer program, and thus have a ton of new work to show y'all. One such work is one of three poems inspired by a trip to the Amherst College Natural History Museum. Our group's task was to observe the colors of the museum and write about them in a more realized, inventive way.

The first thing I saw there was the bones of a Columbian mammoth, whose real ivory tusks were in a display case to the side.

Hence, this poem.

Ezekiel

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/

Wordles

Sorry for not posting regularly as of late. I've been busy having sleep disorders, 504s, and doctor's appointments. But, as a reward for y'all's patience, here's a word cloud (known as a Wordle) made up of the most frequently-used words on this blog. The bigger the word, the more frequently it is used.

Though, poem, met, like, think, shatter, monster, one, and girl seem to be leading.

As an interesting comparison, here are the wordles for drafts one and two (respectively) of my novel, The Omniscience. Note: the second draft isn't exactly finished; it stops a little less than halfway in. I really should get back to that...

Funny, the first draft appears to have less words than the second. *eyebrow raise*

Barton Hollow

Oh, look! It's me! You finally get to see my face, dear readers! And what is that blurry orange rectangle that I'm holding? It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...

...asdf'lksdjfas'dflkjads'fkja'sldkfj'!

Ahem. Let me try that again. I'm quite excited, you see. You would think that an author would have a more coherent way to express excitement than that, but apparently I don't. That's not really important, though. What's important is...

I GOT PUBLISHED!

In the Winter 2013 edition of The Marble Collection: Massachusetts High School Magazine of the Arts, there is a short story on page 14 entitled "Barton Hollow," one of five short stories in the issue. And it is mine.

There are very few words to describe how elated I am at this moment.

Barton Hollow

Magniloquence

Taken from http://youthvoices.net/sites/default/files/image/10913/apr/selfesteem.png, courtesy of The Internet, as usual. Image apparently depicts all the labeling and pressure put upon young girls in the media that leads to low self-esteem— the very things that the speaker of this poem is attempting to defy in her "magniloquence."

High time for some optimistic poetry, eh?

I don't like to boast. No, really, I don't. That's not just me being modest. I don't like boasting.

That being said, this assignment for Creative Writing Class was deemed a "boast poem," though I prefer to think of it as a "confidence poem." Excuse any arrogance that you may perceive while reading this—it's part of the prompt, I swear. As was the rhyme scheme. And the number of lines. And the Maya Angelou and King Lear allusions, though I was happy to put those in.

Magniloquence

(or, A Boast of Epic Proportions)